Old Wine in New Bottle?

Death comes to all, but great achievements build a monument which shall endure until the sun grows cold.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

Monuments are much more than signposts of history. They are mental landmarks. They establish visual maps of the city in our brains. For instance - “ take a left from the blue tomb and past the old fort.” Older monuments serve many more roles. They anchor us to the origins of our city and are physical links to a culture long gone. They talk of generations past, if we ever care to stop and listen. Their physical presence and character breaks the sterile monotony of modern concrete construction. If they are grand in their scale and vision, they often become much more than physical and mental landmarks. They become ‘ambassadors’ for the city and the country, cultural icons and symbols of sovereign nations, like brand logos almost. The Taj Mahal, the Sydney Opera House, the Eiffel Tower & the Great Wall of China fall in this category. They are loved, feted & cherished, becoming tourism pilgrimages, earning millions in foreign exchange for the countries concerned. Large sums of money, time and space are lavished on them.

But all this is old hat. We know about all this already. And I do not intend to go on and on about these ‘wonderful’ world renowned monuments. They already get more than enough attention and adulation.

I wish to talk about that little forgotten dome in the neighbourhood park. Or that baoli (step-well) in the urban village settlement that has now become a garbage dump. It is about these little known and un-thought about ‘monuments’ in the city which I would like to think about. They are like the orphans on our city streets, who come knocking on the windows of our cars, and whom we try to ignore as best as possible. In most cases even when we pass by these forlorn dilapidated structures everyday, they barely register, inconsequential dots on our visual canvas. But not so long ago (a hundred years is nothing in the life of an ancient city), these buildings (for lack of a better word) were adored and cared for. They were the centre of everyday ritual and activity. The Idgah would fill with the voices of the faithful, the women would wash their clothes and bathe at the step-well and children would splash about at the garden pavilion.

These old spaces and buildings dot the whole city. But they are all dead now. They are dead, because their link with the lives of the people is lost. Their relevance to the daily commotion of our existence has completely snapped. Since these once cherished buildings are now burdens on the city, on shrinking land, and on a burgeoning population, their very existence is under continuous threat.

No manner of enacted laws or barbed wire fences can save them, unless they are made relevant once again to the present day needs of the city. Many conservationists detest such attempts at adaptive re-use. They would much rather that these monuments lie neglected, rather than integrating them with the hubbub of the city. The critical question then is, ‘Are monuments for their own sake, or are they for the city and its people?’ What use is a monument that does not reverberate to the rhythms of a city, that does not beat in-sync with the pulse of the people?

Making buildings is an expensive and time consuming process. In the times of yore, it was even more so. Every building was a labour of love, and crafted with attention to detail. Therefore, pulling them down, is neither imperative nor in most cases an imperative. There can be many ingenious ways of adapting them for new uses. These buildings provide a resource rather than an irritation and should be assessed for the qualities they can bring. Cities like London, Rome, Barcelona & Venice are wonderful examples of such adaptive ingenuity and planning prowess.

In Delhi, the Lodi Gardens (the erstwhile Lady Willingdon Park) is an early example of how old monuments can successfully become part of the present. The Lodi Gardens is both a pleasant joggers’ paradise/ picnic spot as well as a nostalgia evoking historical necropolis, showcasing the architecture of the Sayyid and Lodi dynasties of 16th century Delhi . Most monuments will not even demand such extravagant swathes of land in the heart of the city. They will only demand imagination. The basement of the Mehrangarh fort in Jodhpur is a beautiful illustration of how a little joie-de-vivre can transform a dreary, damp and very medieval basement into a swank and chic boutique (see picture). The Neemrana Fort revitalization was a laudable attempt by entrepreneurs Aman Nath & Francis Wacziarg to find new use for an old and derelict monument. Twenty years ago, the preserve of owls and bats, today it is a cultural & holiday hotspot, hosting literary festivals and various manner of pageants. It has provided employment to the neighbouring village and helped to improve the economy of the area. All over Rajasthan, havelis and palaces are being remodelled into hotels, resorts & museums, transforming them from unwanted and neglected ruins into treasured assets for the economy.



We treat our monuments like very old people. But they are really like our children. They must not be allowed to sit in corners and sulk by themselves. They must be encouraged to laugh and play, enriching our city and infusing joy into the lives of its people. They may be active participants, or lively backgrounds, on which we paint new creations. They can participate in our festivals, in our protest marches, in our spiritual quests, in our fitness regimens, in our shopping sprees and even in our eating out adventures. A disused stepwell could become a themed discotheque, a fallen mosque a sunday market, and a group of chhatris(pavilions) the backdrop for cultural shows. Each monument is a unique child and must be treated differently. But city must make them participate in its frenzy.

As our cities stride right into the middle of the new millennia, new and ritzy glass monsters mushroom everywhere, grey concrete replaces old brick, and polished chrome metro-lines and international airports swoon in the delirious city. It will be these little monuments here and there, which, like miniature gems, will provide context and anchorage to a "faceless-international-modern" city. They will form new nuclei for cultural regeneration & vigour in local neighbourhoods. From liabilities and dens of anti-social activity, they will become assets for the city. And by finding new roles for the forgotten monuments, we will only enrich the cultural weft & weave of the city. We don’t need to make Gods out of our monuments or put them on haloed pedestals (out of bounds and fenced in), we only need to treat them as members of our family, loved and useful. City development agencies must wake up to this golden opportunity. We are seeing the first sparks of this in areas like Nizamuddin and Chandni Chowk in Delhi, in the work of the Aga Khan Trust and others like them. This spark must spread far and wide and become a fire. We cannot leave our widespread monumental heritage behind. It must bask with us, in the sunshine, of the new millennium, and a new resurgent India.