It was surely past midnight and I was partially asleep in the rear seat of an SUV. Only until I was woken up abruptly by the car’s wobbles. We had hit the bumpy Kaccha roads (crude, mud roads) as we had now entered the buffer zone of the Kanha national park in Madhya Pradesh, Central India. As I adjusted my blurry vision, the sight through the window panes seemed almost mythical. Here I was in the midst of a pitch dark forest. I was thrown off guard to see glimpses of human settlements with organic mud walls, tiny windows and elegant tiled roofs. The only illumination that was our vehicle’s headlight, momentarily brought these captivating structures into our vision, as we maneuvered the narrow winding roads. It felt like I had entered a parallel world, those one could imagine only through the words of a story book. All these seemingly primitive buildings were so well-kept! They were clearly not abandoned, but were homes of the local people. People, whose lives quietly and respectfully blended into the darkness of the surrounding wilderness: one that is home to tigers, leopards and jackals.
Damn, where was I?
I felt so Alien.
In my own homeland.
Table of Contents
- First step into the ‘Jungle book’ territory
- The uncontaminated warmth of the village folk
- Large families and the prevalence of Patriarchy
- Growing up around Mangoes and Mahua
- The local mud architecture – A dying tradition
- An attempt to build WITH the locals – A co-creative process
- The enchanted world of Kanha National Park
- Man-Animal conflict is real – a harsh encounter
- Meeting the guardians of the forest – The Baigas
1. First step into the ‘Jungle Book’ territory
I’d just finished my mid-day meal and was enjoying the post-meal-tranquility when two young chaps walked into the firm I was then working for (Mrinmayee), in my home city of Bangalore. They were seeking to construct an Eco-Homestay in close proximity to the Kanha national park. And my boss decided that I should be handed the opportunity to lead this ambitious project! I was ecstatic!
The years that followed, were naturally and without a doubt an exciting journey: designing, envisioning, and eventually realizing this project – Surwahi Social Eco-estate Kanha – in the serene landscape neighboring one of India’s most pristine wildlife territories. But beyond this professional motive, what drew me back to this place time and again, not just reshaping my approach to architecture but also my relationship with rural communities, were the thought-provoking interactions during my visits: those with the people, their culture and the wildlife in the heart of central India – Madhya Pradesh!
We would usually fly from Bangalore to Nagpur, followed by a 4-5 hour drive to reach Surwahi, a small village in the fringes of the protected Tiger reserve. En route we would pass Pench National Park, where the infamous story of ‘The Jungle Book’ is based. Remember Mowgli and his friends? Once merely the stuff of imagination, now that fairytale setting was going to be my workplace. And I knew on my very first entry into this wondrous world – that a new phase of my life was about to unfold.
2. The uncontaminated warmth of the village folk
If you’ve visited any village in India, you’d have definitely experienced the warmth and kindness of people there. Everyone would so casually say, “Humare ghar aao, bhojan ke liye,” meaning come to our home for a meal. And these ‘mealtime’ offers are always hard to decline, for their sheer experience—one of togetherness, with each member involved in some form of hospitality, ensuring no guest feels out of place.
Imagine sitting down on the naturally cool earthen floors next to the kitchen, opening up to the pacifying view of the backyard farms. The aroma of lasan ka cheela (a crepe made with rice and green garlic) cooking on firewood stoves layered with the pleasant sounds of the Indian countryside; of cowbells and birdsongs. The juicy veggies which were almost always freshly picked from their own farms. How I would turn into an exuberant child when I picked some on my own!
As my travels to Surwahi got more frequent, I became more acquainted with many locals who became a part of our project: from the contractor and the site supervisor to all the working artisans whom I spent most of my time with. I became fondly referred to as ‘Shiva sir,’ although I was younger than most of them. On the other hand, I found real joy in calling everyone “Bhaiyya” (Brother). But then again, such is the extent of unspoken hierarchy that exists between those who hail from rural regions (Gaav waale) and those who come from the cities (Shehar ke log).
To their eyes, my casual engagement with them was seen as a rare occurrence, whereas to me each interaction felt like a new learning about the practices and belief systems that were still dominant in their society.
3. Large families and the prevalence of Patriarchy
Having grown up in a large joint family myself, I found it interesting to see the practice of living with extended family under the same roof here as well. However, this togetherness was rooted in a patrilineal society, one where the sons inherited the property of the father and lived in the same house post-marriage. In contrast, women were expected to leave their parental homes and serve the in-laws after their wedding. This cultural divide became all the more obvious when I realized how certain paternal surnames were so predominant in the village.
One day, I visited an acquaintance’s family, who had two little daughters and a son. I was eager to meet all three kids whom I loved being around. But the father asked me to sit in the living room along with his son (the youngest), while the daughters were helping their mother in the kitchen. They were preparing some Bhajias (fritters) for me. I was being made to engage a lot with his son – talk about his school, career goals, hobbies and so on. I found it weird how I could not strike a conversation with the girls. Eventually I stood up casually, went to the kitchen and offered a hand in the cooking. I am glad I did this for had I not, I would’ve never known how chatty the mother was nor how ambitious the cute daughters were!
“The Baigas, like many primitive tribes, possess an innate understanding of their environment, living in harmony with nature in a way that modern man has long forgotten.”
Verrier Elwin
4. Growing up around Mangoes and ‘Mahua’
Despite all the cultural nuances, I particularly adored the innocence and simplicity of childhood in the villages. The element of rawness that still exists in their lives was something that the little boy in me envied during every visit. For instance, in the Mango season, small boys would gang up with their close friends and go on a Mango hunt with their handmade catapults. In other seasons, it would be climbing the Char trees to pluck the sweet and sour fruits or diving into the local ponds to harvest water-chestnuts, lotus stem and kishurua (a sweet-tasting fruit that grows in the roots of water plants). Inadvertently, a lot of their free time was spent in nature.
Their lives were not just less materialistic but also packed with so much creativity. Once while visiting one of my favorite kids in the locality, I was shocked to be welcomed by him and his friends in this manner:
(if you can’t see the image, it’s of four children standing on their handmade Bamboo stilts)
Would you ever imagine that such cool gadgets can be crafted with just local bamboo and rope?
And yes, you do not see any girls in this picture either. But although girls weren’t into the same activities as boys, they did enjoy other adventures of their own, and in the forest! Like that of ‘flower-picking.’ The ladies of the households would take the daughters along for collecting fallen flowers of the Mahua* trees from nearby forests, bringing them back home in baskets supported overhead. Lasting almost half a day, this was an enjoyable recreation for the ‘shes’ in the community.
(* Mahua is a local tree that is particularly of high cultural importance; their flowers are used to make a high-in-demand traditional liquor, the fruits are used to extract a semi solid oil which serves as a replacement for ghee!)
5. The Local mud architecture – A dying tradition
While some local traditions have been successfully passed on to younger generations, others, like the traditional ways of building, haven’t been as fortunate. It really broke my heart to see that even such a secluded village, in the fringes of a natural forest, could fall prey to the virus that is steel and concrete.
At first sight, it was beyond encouraging and in fact inspiring to find the age-old method of mud-construction still alive in the villages of Kanha. It reminded me that the profession of architecture itself is such a modern idea and that homes of our ancestors were built without the involvement of any ‘architect’ per se. But within a few days I found out, more to my dismay, that this tradition is seeing its demise, due to the ideas of comfort defined by modern society.
The local method of construction involves so many carbon neutral techniques like earthen ‘Cob’ walls, earthen flooring, roof-structures from local wood & bamboo, clay-tile roofs, natural lime coat for walls and so on. Methods that new age architects want to learn about and bring back into practice for battling climate resilience. But my conversations with the locals revealed how they do not wish to build these anymore since they are apparently ‘not strong enough.’ “Pillar wala building banana hai,” they would say, referring to a structure built with a framework of concrete columns, which they believed, was stronger. How do I begin to explain to them that their own structures are the ones that last longer, for centuries even!
6. Teaming up WITH the locals – A co-creative building process
To our design team, it was clear that the local artisans had a broad range of valuable skill sets. But these very skills were under threat. With the backing of my team, we set a goal of creating a project which showcases the skill-set of every artisan, rather than reflecting an idea which was merely one person’s imagination alone. The perception that only formal education in architecture and civil engineering is the only source to learn to design or build has also led to the undermining of indigenous knowledge, which is a time-tested and efficient product of evolution. With the right intentions, however, our project went on to show how Architecture can become an agency that brings the whole community together. What often comes to my mind is how a senior professor in my university days had approached me and said “Shiva, you have great potential, but I am afraid you do not have the EGO to become an architect.”
My personal experience and association with the locals only proved to me that good architecture is a product of a strong team, one that’s based on synergy and mutual respect. In fact, many aspects of the design developed organically, incorporating the local craftsmanship and artistry like pottery, Gond art (tribal painting with natural dyes), hand sculpting and even cow-dung flooring. This co-creative process enabled a whole lot of learning from one another, raising everyone’s spirits tenfold. Moreover, my long enduring interactions with the locals even made me adept at the Hindi language, which I had evaded for many years.
There is one particular instance, which I remember very fondly. We had just erected the most complex roof understructure in the building and were about to remove the temporary supports which were holding up the whole thing. I was visibly nervous. But that’s when the hyper-energetic local fabricator reassured me, in his always casual tone: “arey bhaiya, kuch nahi bigadne wala hai, mei bol raha hu na” (chill out, nothing’s gonna mess up, just trust me)
I immediately felt a sense of calm as I allowed myself a wide smile.
“Buildings are much more than architect’s egos, dear Professor,” I could hear myself saying.
7. The enchanted world of Kanha National Park
Aside from my duties as an architect, I was lucky enough to have had the chance to visit the Kanha National Park several times. And each of those times felt like an encounter with paradise.
We would wake up as early as 4 am and drive to the Park’s gates before sunrise so as to board the first fleet of jeeps of the day. There is something about entering the wild at the break of dawn that I cannot begin to explain. The first rays of light piercing through the dense and misty woods, the chilly winds forming gentle waves on the golden grasslands, and the subsequent wake up calls of birds and Langurs stirring up the dead silence. All I would think was “What if I could wake up to this everyday!” Lasting up to five hours, safaris in Kanha are what I would describe as a ‘thorough cleansing of all your senses.’
The Kanha National Park, designated as a tiger reserve in 1973 is not just beautiful but it has done wonders in the conservation of many a species, apart from protecting the esteemed Bengal tiger. While most tourists come here just to spot a tiger in the wild, there is much more to Kanha than just the big cat. It’s a matter of pain and regret that most safari guides make a desperate attempt to sight a tiger, heeding to the frenzy of the visiting tourists. Since, for those who are more mindful of the biodiversity that Kanha actually offers, the safari experience becomes more meditative and appreciative of nature’s wonders, and not succumbing to a state of restlessness. The Barasingha (swamp deer), leopard, wild dog, Nilgai, barking deer, sloth bear are just a few to watch out for, along with the near-300 avifauna that this sanctuary is home to.
8. Man-Animal conflict is real – a harsh encounter
Kanha is exceptionally rich in wildlife. So you could imagine that human habitation in such a territory comes at a cost, for both animals and humans alike. And on many occasions, this cost has been lives. One such incident happened right before my eyes. It was on a day when we had a small gathering to celebrate a project milestone. That afternoon, when all of us were taking a casual stroll within the property, we heard a loud and fierce ROAR. One of the locals yelled, “It’s a tiger!” And to my bewilderment, everyone began darting TOWARDS the sound! After a moment’s hesitation, I followed behind. At our property gate, we were alarmed to see a wounded man limping on the other side, with deep slashes across his back.
I later found out that this man, a cowherd, was attacked by Munna (a well known Tiger who had been chased out of his territory in the reserve forest due to old age) and unfortunately breathed his last due the severity of the injury. Munna claimed more lives before being caught by forest guards and transferred to a zoo in Bhopal.
In another instance, one of my acquaintance’s family members lost his life. And this time the story was quite different. His life hadn’t been claimed by a wild animal but rather by an electrified fencing wire, which local farmers lay overnight to keep deers and antelopes away from their crops.
As devastating as the news was to me, it pointed out how human-kind has probably never really been “kind” to the rest of the animal kingdom that we share this planet with. We have been laying traps all along human history. The irony is that now we find ourselves trapped within our own trap.
9. Meeting the guardians of the forest – The Baigas
My very first journey into the landscape of Kanha revealed how human settlements had been built right amidst the forest. However, these buildings were legal homes situated outside the boundaries of the protected national park area. Only later did I discover an indigenous tribe called the Baigas, who had been residing within the park’s confines for more than 20,000 years.
So I cannot finish this memoir on Kanha without mentioning the Baigas, a forest-dwelling community that lived alongside tigers in these forests until late 1960s. These ‘friends of tigers,’ originally known to have inhabited the most remote and inaccessible forest areas, have extraordinary knowledge of the wild. Their lives revolved around hunting, fishing and ‘bewar,’ a process of shifting cultivation that they consciously chose to avoid harming the soil, which they valued as a god-given treasure. Even in those early times, they demonstrated a lifestyle which was so deeply respectful of the environment – one could also say they had to, as their existence depended on it.
Today, many of the Baigas have been evicted out of the forests. They reside in settlements which were provided to them by the government. After visiting and interacting with some of them, I came to realize how hard it can be for them to live the ‘civilized’ way and gather material wealth; ideas which, to them, were pretty much non-existent.
I vividly remember an old Baiga woman, who was squatting down by her home, carefully crafting something by hand. She was humming to herself while making circular plates, using leaves and twigs that she must have collected during the day from the forest. In her eyes I saw a childlike innocence, as though nothing from the outside world would change her state of serenity.
For a brief moment I tried to imagine myself in her shoes.
But I felt Alien.
Yet again.
This time, to the very human ancestry I belong to.
Have you explored this part of the world? Let us know in comments.
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Hi ! We’re Forum and Shiva, two intrepid souls united by our shared love for TRAVEL and SUSTAINABILITY. We met as architectural colleagues and we both spent some years exploring sustainable and socially responsible architecture. Our mutual fascination for vernacular architecture, traditional communities, and the curiosity to witness the natural world.. all led us to build this little nest: Barriers and Borders.
Our mission is simple – to bring you meaningful stories from the small or the big journeys that we make which could allow you to see the world differently. To let you join our journeys through our words.. to touch upon those little details that maybe get missed.. and above all to attempt to give back to the places we are privileged to visit in this lifetime.
Barriers and borders
Vegan Travellers | Eco-Conscious Architects | Love Envoys | Nature enthusiasts
Barriers and Borders
Hi ! We’re Forum and Shiva, two intrepid souls united by our shared love for TRAVEL and SUSTAINABILITY. We met as architectural colleagues and we both spent some years exploring sustainable and socially responsible architecture. Our mutual fascination for vernacular architecture, traditional communities, and the curiosity to witness the natural world.. all led us to build this little nest: Barriers and Borders.
Our mission is simple – to bring you meaningful stories from the small or the big journeys that we make which could allow you to see the world differently. To let you join our journeys through our words.. to touch upon those little details that maybe get missed.. and above all to attempt to give back to the places we are privileged to visit in this lifetime.
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Wonderful observations and perspectives. Wholesome and insightful!! Thoroughly enjoyed reading it! Thankyou and looking forward to reading more 🙌
Thanks for reading Rina! So glad to know that you resonated with the stories.