societies place values on their memories
grouping them into a common narrative of
popular wisdom in an interesting closure of the
human condition. To make this short, can I say
we all get trapped into the same story of life,
and the same predictable outcomes devoid
of imagination?
In other words: life is a trap. Or, is it? Architects,
urban designers and artists are writing
stories of the future, drawing on memory and
reflections of the past while creating new
narratives. Our compulsion to deal continuously
in future scenarios leads to a kind of schizophrenia
where we are creating choreographies of future
scenes, with people moving in our imagined
spaces, yet drawing on past references as
building blocks for our ideas. Unfortunately,
most of the design production we see today is
plagiarised from the web, or even cut and pasted
in the spirit of commercial proficiency!
Urban public policy experts, urban planners,
and architects, per force, end up writing
reports, and as life proceeds we learn that
fiction goes down better than prose with our
clients, and a new kind of creative license emerges.
Good professionals write well, and successful
ones learn the art of weaving conceptual fictions
into the prose of clients’ budgets and functional
needs. Sooner or later, some of us leap out of our
professional writing into expressing our
reflections and observations in artful forms of
literary attempts, like my book Letters to a Young
Architect that has now been published in four
languages. Frankly, that was a counterintuitive
outcome, as I never imagined that my writing
would figure on the ‘Top Ten Best Selling Non-
fiction Books in India’, and be read by people of
all ages and dispositions.
The lesson is that more of us must write and
we must teach our students to write! One of my
successes at CEPT University was to influence
the curriculum, requiring all incoming students
to take a writing laboratory course, beginning
in the first semester. My own education
required me to take writing classes, and that led
me into publishing in EKISTICS and
Habitat International, and authoring chapters
in books published by the RIBA, Rutledge and
numerous Indian publishers. I say this only to
encourage educators to do the same across the
country, and to make our young professionals
truly literate citizens who can express important
opinions and thoughtful views on our society.
Writing and editing is a part of my daily life, and
I remain an unwilling member of the Editorial
Board of CITIES Journal in UK, and others.
My career as an institution builder and
public policy analyst led me into major writing
projects. In 1983 I was asked by the United
Nations to write their Theme Paper for the
upcoming Seventh Session of the United Nations
Commission on Human Settlements This was
an arduous task, defining the goals and strategies
for urban management that 58 member
nations would mutually ratify. In addition to
writing, it was incumbent upon me to present
the draft to each of the United Nations Regional
Commissions, so they could assess the possibility
of my offending a member state’s sense of
propriety. This task stretched over months in
Nairobi at the UNCHS (Habitat) Headquarters.
About a year later the Ministry of Urban
Development, GoI, requested me to represent
India at a Non-aligned Conference on Urban
Development in Sweden, where I was asked
to make a major presentation to the 300 or so
international delegates. At the end of my
presentation a senior Finnish official arose
grabbing much attention with a strongly worded
question to me, which took the form of a major
accusation! Before coming to the point, she laced
her attack with several insinuations, and then
said, “The paper you have just presented is an
insult to this gathering! Most of us sitting here
were signatories to the Charter of the Seventh
Human Settlements Commission Meeting
held in Angola. The paper you have just presented
diametrically opposes the values and principles
that we have debated and agreed upon! What
do you have to say for yourself?” There was a
hushed silence in the large auditorium, with
deadly glares directed my way from fellow
speakers on the podium! I got up, walked slowly
to the rostrum, and said, “Madam, thank you for
your wisdom!
I am the author of the paper you have signed!
Do you have any more questions?”
The audience broke out into howls of laughter
and applauded my rebuttal enthusiastically.
So, writing can have its euphoric moments as
well as depressing ones. In 1986 I wrote the Asian
Development Bank’s White Paper on Urban
Development, arguing to the Board that the ADB
should open their lending to urban infrastructure
investments, alleviating health and nutrition
stresses in Asia’s cities.
After presenting to the Board, and receiving
cautioned acceptance, I suggested they assemble
a conference of experts, documenting their
support, and allaying their doubts. Until that
piece of writing, the ADB restricted its lending
to rural and agricultural development, based on
the popular wisdom that urban investments
catalyse urban migration. It was a moment of
euphoria for me when I learned that the Board
of the ADB passed a resolution, entering the
urban sector of development.
So, life is not a trap after all! For the true artist,
there are secret moments of transcendence, and
moments of inspiration when the profound
arches unhampered over day-to-day trivia. Within
that momentary sliver of self-realisation lies
one’s eternal truth and being.
Writing, urban planning and architecture are
creative catalysts of imagination. They are
creators of self-knowledge and inner awareness.Epilogue
Born in America, my karmabhoomi is here in
India. I was drawn here to the subcontinent
through subconscious dreams and primordial
urges imbedded in my soul. Yes, narratives
hidden within my primordial being were calling
out to me to come and live in India. Once I set
foot on Indian soil, I knew I’d found my home.
I have been blessed to know India through itsmany ‘living layers’, of times that float one
above the other, sharing geographical space and
time simultaneously in the form of real people
and friendships.
Through my princely friends in Gujarat in the
1960s and Bhutan I lived the stories of
medieval lives, and I designed places appropriate
to their heritage; through my friends in the
bureaucracy I lived the lives of the socialist
state, and I designed towns, re-planned cities
and created large housing estates in the spirit
of a ‘supply side economy’; through my friends
who were early entrepreneurs I came to know
the meaning of the mixed economy, and its
precarious life, and I helped them find identity
through their buildings. Now we live in a
capitalist global economy, and my clients’
markets spread around the world, and I must
work in a culture of construction that is
both very Indian, and at the same time global.
Each of these layers has had its own work
ethic, its own thinking, and its own kinds of
human relationships. So, the lesson of India lies
in its people and through their relationships! It
lies in their stories knitted together into great
epics, generating a shared happiness and sense
of fulfillment. Yes, I found true happiness in
India, Bhutan, Sri Lanka, Nepal and Bangladesh.
I learned that life is not about the projects we
have in hand, or our wealth, but life is simply
the quality of our friendships that grow into
our being along our journey.
If life is a trap, adventure, compassion,
imagination, inclusiveness and reflection are
our creative escapes!The third edition of the Cyrus Jhabvala
Memorial Lecture was delivered by
Christopher C. Benninger on 27 September 2018
at the India International Centre, New Delhi.