Nargis Dutt – this name is etched in the golden words in the books of Indian cinema. She was a timeless beauty and the epitome of sheer talent who gave Indian cinema a legacy to cherish. However, it isn’t just her acting that keeps the late actress alive in the hearts of millions. Nargis, as recalled by Bollywood’s veteran star Waheeda Rehman, was the ‘most hospitable person.’

“Nargis Ji would make sure each person, no matter how big or small, was comfortable.”

In a conversation with us, Waheeda Rehman fondly remembered Nargis Dutt on her death anniversary and shared, “She was like an elder sister. Sunil Dutt Saab, Nargisji, and their Ajanta Troupe would frequently go to the borders to entertain our soldiers. I was a happy member of that entertainment troupe.”
“Nargis ji looked after us like her own family. She was the most hospitable person I have ever known. When we would be travelling together, she would make sure each person, no matter how big or small, was comfortable,” added the actress.

Waheed Rahman shares what she admired the most about Nargis Dutt

She further shared how these two beautiful souls didn’t meet that often, but whenever they used to cross paths, it was an encounter to remember. “She was very busy with all the charitable work that she did. I was busy with my career. But yes, whenever we met, it was always a pleasure. When I was shooting with Dutt Saab for Reshma Aur Shera, Nargis ji looked after the entire cast and crew.”
She concluded the conversation on the sweetest note possible. She said, “There were many things I admired about Nargisji. But do you know what I admired the most? Sunil Dutt Saab.”
“He was such a devoted husband. God should give every woman a husband like him,” she quoted, highlighting the most beautiful bond shared between Nargis and Sunil Dutt.

There was a time when mud homes were limited to villages. Over the last few years, designers and consumers have found fancy in the simple material and its many structural qualities. Be it Mumbai’s latest bistro Zeki, the 2,000 sq.ft. home built by Bhoomija Creations in Kerala, or the more recent, Tiny Farm Lab in Uttarakhand. The latest addition to this list is sari brand Kalga Banaras’ showroom in Varanasi built using the age-old wattle and daub technique wherein bamboo strips are woven together and the gaps filled with cob (a mix of mud, sand, and straw). 

The design of the 1,300 square foot showroom — helmed by interior-product designer Aishwarya Lakhani, founder of Brown Dot Collaborative, and Raghav Kumar, co-founder of rural design studio Tiny Farm Lab — was completed in five months by November 2024. “A lot of our inspiration came from observing the day-to-day life and culture in Varanasi: the people, the city’s winding gullies (streets), and the sunsets at the ghats. The mood of the space, as a result, also reflected that through soft edges, elemental colours (a warm, earthy palette) and finishes that felt alive; mud lime plasters in varied tones, textures, and some, in the form of an abstraction on the wall,” says Lakhani, who looked at slowness and imperfection as a design quality, “embracing asymmetry, organically shaped niches, and rustic art sculpted with layers of mud-lime plaster”.

Locally sourced material

As one enters the store, and walks through the narrow passage — inspired by Varanasi’s unfolding landscape where narrow lanes open to the vastness of the ghats — they are met with an installation crafted from punch cards used in the jacquard loom system. “The main display space of the store is carved from natural materials, including mud and lime plasters, and hand-sculpted curves. We also designed tactile inserts like a large mural, an abstraction of Varanasi’s sunset in the ghats and display units made using lime and cow dung plasters infused with natural oxides,” says Lakhani, adding that 90% of the materials and artefacts were sourced locally. The store has also revived the gaddi (floor mattress) tradition, “inviting visitors to sit, pause, and engage with the saris in an intimate way”.

Detailing the techniques championed in the project, Kumar says the walls were shaped by hand, built slowly one layer at a time using cob. “We mixed the cob by stomping it with our feet and rolled it into place, which gave the walls their smooth, flowing curves. To finish, we used natural plasters made from mud, lime, and cow dung, for the larger sculpted elements, and included natural oxides for the decorative ones,” he says. These safe, chemical-free coatings add beautiful texture, keep the air fresh, and help control the moisture inside the space, adds the architect.

“These hand-formed details were a quiet way of rooting the space in nature and offering visitors moments of discovery as they moved through it. Each one was shaped intuitively on-site, making the walls feel not just built, but touched”Raghav Kumarco-founder of rural design studio Tiny Farm Lab

The team — comprising local masons whom the duo had to train — also sculpted smaller, rustic motifs and protrusions directly into the wet mud plaster. “These hand-formed details were a quiet way of rooting the space in nature and offering visitors moments of discovery as they moved through it. Each one was shaped intuitively on-site, making the walls feel not just built, but touched,” he says, adding that traditional crafts such as metal repoussé and wood-turned figurines were embedded thoughtfully into the design.

Trust local hands

Kumar explains that one of the biggest concerns in natural building is finding skilled labour. “The simple answer? You train them. It’s not rocket science. If someone has experience in cement work, they already have the right tools, muscle memory, and hands-on building skills, and they just need to learn the materials,” he says, “We started with what they know: swapping cement and sand for clay, sand, and fibre. Then drawing analogies between binders, i.e., cement and clay, and broke techniques down into stages.” He says the artisans took those skills and “even found better techniques”. “We learned more from them than they learned from us. By trusting local hands, we’re creating sustainable livelihoods, and decentralising the knowledge of natural building to make the process richer and more meaningful.”

Aishwarya Lakhani and Raghav Kumar.

While Kumar and Lakhani see a rise in the interest to build such structures and vouch for the potential they hold, building with mud “takes time”. “It can’t be rushed. Mud needs to dry, lime needs to be slaked. It also requires the workers to learn new, but ancient, skills,” says Lakhani. Two aspects that the duo were challenged with for Kalga Banaras. “Our clients onboarded us mid-way through the project; they saw more value in building with mud. But this also meant we had to jump in halfway and make sense of the chaos,” says Kumar, adding how the client wanted it complete in five months. “It was a tight deadline for any build, let alone one with natural materials. And the monsoon had just begun which meant high humidity, and slow drying times. But, we loved the challenge, and were able to finish the project within the timeline by making drier mixes and building strategically,” he says.

As designers building with earth, Kumar says they have a dual responsibility. “Working with local materials, context, and labour is not enough. We need to craft beautiful spaces that are technically sound. Spaces that evoke emotions and a sense of desirability,” he concludes.

A walk through the medieval streets of Mylapore, George Town, or Karaikudi reveals a lost history, where abandoned houses and institutions, built over a hundred years ago, now stand in disrepair. A reimagination of heritage cities by planning authorities, in collaboration with civic society, could rejuvenate these derelict neighbourhoods.

While newfound mobility and technology resulted in mega-cities with metros and automobiles, the medieval town, at its core, was often abandoned or subjected to densities far greater than it could absorb. Recognising this predicament, the First Master Plan of Chennai moved the inner-city markets and transport hubs to Koyambedu to decongest GeorgeTown and Parrys Corner. But it was not impetus enough to revive its heritage precincts.

Alexander Tzonis and Liane Lefaivre — architectural theorists, authors and historians, known for their interdisciplinary approach towards design theory, history, and political critique, leaving a lasting impact on architectural pedagogy and practice — discuss this urban phenomenon in the context of globalisation: how rapid urban growth has been responsible for large-scale constructions at the cost of losing identity through the erasure of historic precincts.

Professor Lefaivre believes cities across climatic regions are beginning to look alike, resulting in a loss of climate-responsive and site-specific spatial identity.

Most often, heritage buildings give way to uniform, hermetically-sealed and air-conditioned constructions, which rarely respond to climate.

Sustainable architecture

However, in the face of adverse environmental conditions, cities across the world are recognising the value of heritage in a refreshingly new context. Medieval structures often reveal significant cultural and climatic features that hold lessons for responding to inclement weather patterns, whether urban heat or incessant monsoons.

Vernacular architecture, with its shade and natural ventilation elements, creates a cooler micro-climate.

For instance, the shaded thinnai — a semi-open transitional space — subdues the harsh effect of the sun. In the past, it facilitated a communication between the street and home, embodying a spirit of hospitality for visitors and travellers. These elements manifested the idea of close-knit urban communities and festivals. Can these heritage elements reveal insights for the design of carbon-zero cities of the future?

Lessons from Kochi-Muziris Biennale

Aspinwall building in Fort Kochi.
| Photo Credit:
The Hindu Archives

The two aspects of ‘celebrating urban life’ and ‘climate-friendly design’ are intrinsically linked. Transcending conventional notions of heritage, the Kochi-Muziris Biennale (to be held from December 12, 2025 to March 2026) is an incredible example of how a medieval heritage town was transformed into a lively cultural art biennale with the support of the Kerala government. Medieval Kochi and Muziris are precincts with unique histories. The reimagination of the heritage precinct by Bose Krishnamachari — co-founder of Kochi-Muziris Biennale and recipient of Lifetime Fellowship Award from Kerala Lalit Kala Akademi — along with a group of artists, architects, filmmakers and citizen groups, was serendipitous.

The revival of Durbar Hall, Aspinwall and several other heritage precincts in Fort Kochi provided a new vision to an old town. Heritage homes were converted into homestays, cafes, art galleries and spaces for youth to host films and exchange ideas. The Biennale endeavoured to be open to all citizens, creating a newfound way of inhabiting the city. Sensitively conserved heritage dwellings, such as Durbar Hall, and other buildings enabled young artists to exhibit their works. 

Design Ashram, Kozhikode

Design Ashram in Kozhikode.

Located on Gujrati Street in Kozhikode, Design Ashram reimagines a heritage home of an erstwhile joint family as a vital co-creative community space. The central courtyard, anchored by a peepul tree, hosts cultural events. The growing tree is a silent reflection of time. A backpacker’s hostel, co-working spaces, library and art gallery provide a forum for young artists, architects and designers. It’s a space for travellers to exchange narratives and experiences. The inward space also provides  autonomy and freedom to express thoughts. Film screenings, book readings and theater shape this vibrant yet fragile community. Technical and engineering expertise not only extended the structure’s life but also revitalised its spatial character. Brijesh Shaijal — director and principal architect who set up Design Ashram — introduced steel reinforcements, carefully harmonising them with the spirit of the 150-year-old place.

Reuse of heritage buildings

The House of Mangaldas in Ahmedabad.

The blue city of Jodhpur has seen the adaptive reuse of heritage buildings for new functions. It’s an intuitive response to preserving heritage homes while meeting contemporaneous needs. Meanwhile, in Ahmedabad, traditional dwellings, havelis, and pols (traditional clustered neighborhoods with shared walls, community gates, and heritage wooden havelis) remain a vital part of the modern city. It often sustains indigenous craft communities that constitute the intangible heritage of the city. The House of Mangaldas is an archetypal intervention where a haveli has been reimagined. Built in the early 1920s by a textile owner in Ahmedabad, the haveli was transformed into a cafe, hotel, serviced apartment, and a design studio with a craft shop. Such projects are often community-based and reveal architecture’s potential to shape the re-imagination of urban spaces.

Alternative purposes

Metropolitan Development Authorities could evolve more appropriate heritage guidelines and regulations to revive heritage buildings for contemporary youth needs: vocational training, filmmaking, art, café-libraries, theater, science galleries, research, and scriptwriting workshops, and other educational and aspirational needs.

Homestays in heritage homes can provide housing to visiting scholars and artists. The intent is to provide sustainable frameworks that are practical and recognise the economic context.

The Connemara Public Library, Chennai.
Photo: R.Ragu
| Photo Credit:
R. RAGU

The UNESCO World Heritage Convention recognises that heritage precincts have historically been overlooked as sustainable architecture, despite their environmental, cultural, and economic contribution.

The 2030 Agenda by the United Nations recognises the role of heritage in sustainable development and its universal value.

A holistic programme of revival of heritage precincts — in this context, George Town, Triplicane, and other areas — provide a potential to rejuvenate urban life, while addressing urban heat and monsoons. Several nations have recognised the economic impetus, and are providing a sustained creative livelihood to craft communities and allow a social cohesion. The intangible value of these precincts contributes to urban renewal and provides individual families a new lease of livelihood with support of the government and policies. One such example is the revival of heritage precincts in Rajasthan’s towns. It has demonstrated resilience, addressing natural disasters, heatwaves, and other risks with minimal investment. Beyond cultural renewal, the appropriate revival of heritage—whether in Tamil Nadu, Madhya Pradesh, or Rajasthan—has shown how towns across India demonstrate pragmatic resilience. They address natural disasters, heatwaves, and other risks through cohesive adaptation to the local climate.

The writer is an architect, academician and the founder of Artes Roots Collaborative.