Documentation – the first project we were assigned when we started architectural college. My whole class of 50 students were divided up into groups of 3 and asked to visit the Walled City of Lahore, and select a house of the area under 10 Marla (2720 square feet) for the course of the project, and conduct its documentation to its very details, and then draft the plans, sections, and elevations in time for the final jury. For those of you who do not know, the Walled City of Lahore, which happened to be at walking distance from my college, is known for its beautiful architectural heritage and exquisite ornamental details of the British, Mughal, Hindu and Sikh architecture. I was really excited. The thought of visiting and experiencing this beautiful landscape of architecture were very fascinating, especially for a young group of students fresh into their architectural experience.
My team and I were ecstatic, fuelled by the desire to excel in the project! We were a diverse group of individuals, from Lahore, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, and Kashmir, who had never interacted before but felt energized by our interests in architecture. We decided we would make sure to pick the biggest house we could lay our eyes on, challenge ourselves to document it day and night with the utmost sensitivity, no matter what it took, and show the rest of the class how incredibly we had worked together as a team. It was not just a project for us, it was a race. And we were going to win!
Thus, after days of wandering in the Walled City, often getting lost in the organically-laid streets interconnecting at unimaginable angles, photographing every unique house we saw, conducting interviews with different residents, hoping they would allow us inside their private abodes, we eventually found our dream house.
A beautiful ochre terracotta introverted building of 12 Marla, dressed with arches, and Sikh style columns, double-height ceilings, jharokhas, and animal figurine ornamentation on its elevations, red tile sloping roofs, a central courtyard enveloped by an arcade of columns and trees, stained-glass windows, Chinioti wooden doors, awnings and louvers, colorful frescoes and mosaics – it was absolutely stunning, a sight to our literally sore eyes after days of exploring, and absolutely fit to our challenge.
We decided this would be the house that would build our name!
Of course, however, we were painfully mistaken in our ability to conduct the due work. The house, as much as it was beautiful, was just as difficult to cover as well. There were too many walls to measure, unlimited windows to reach, intricate ceiling details to understand… it is okay, we thought, and reassured each other, we still had time. It should come as no surprise that during this process, we often found ourselves covered in bandages, injuring ourselves as we fell off stools trying to reach difficult heights, or cutting ourselves with an unforeseen nail in the walls. Sometimes even losing pieces of paper we had recorded dimensions on, and so going back to measuring them one too many times. It was nerve-wracking, to say the least!
Another surprising element that frequently interrupted our pace was the residents of the house and the discomfort they felt allowing a group of students into their private space every day. The females had to lock themselves up in corners of the house we were not working on a particular day, and the males had to follow us around vigilantly, taking leaves from their places of work, trying to ensure we would not destroy or harm their property during our project. We could see we had invaded their space, but we had to keep going. This project was too important for us. It would mark our names for our teachers, perhaps give us advantages for the rest of the ear too. We had too much to hope for, indeed.
After a long month spent shedding blood, tears, and actual sweat in the cold month of February, we finally completed our work. And just in time too, since it’s almost time for the final jury.
Jury Day – Our sheets with meticulously drafted plans, sections, and elevations were undeniably the most attractive ones displayed in the whole studio. Everyone was impressed at how much ground we had successfully covered in the short period of time, how real our elevations appeared, and how it seemed as there was no detail left unnoticed by us. A 3D box board model we had managed to complete just in time was the highlight of the work too. We had placed it strategically at the very start of our assigned studio space, hoping that it would completely throw off all competition we had. We were going to win this. Period.
After a few hours of watching other groups give their presentations, often stuck, unable to answer questions thrown at them by their jurors, it was almost time for ours. We waited impatiently as our jurors walked in towards our work – a grouchy duo of aged architects, with thick moustaches and glasses. Giving them one enthusiastic smile, we looked at each and silently agreed it was time we began the speech we had been working on since the very first day. Nothing could stop us now.
“The work you see before you…” I began at the top of my voice, but just then, one of the jurors held up his hand at me, stopping me midway. He looked over at his partner and together they gave one striking glance at our sheets, roaming their eyes around every corner, every line, and every text we had presented. And then, they walked away. “Sir? Sir?” we called out after them, but to no avail. They were out and had already reached the next group.
We were absolutely stunned. What had just happened? We were thrown off guard. We frantically started searching our sheets for mistakes we had made. Had we missed something out?
A few hours later, the class results were put up. Everyone was, of course, more interested to see what we had gotten instead of checking their own mark. Our grade was nowhere near the highest scoring mark. We had not even managed to achieve the average. There was, however, just one comment next to our group’s name: No North sign marked. No sign of orientation? Hello, Architecture?
Oh, no.
In our unwavering sense of overconfidence and passion, we had forgotten to add the most important piece of information needed on architectural drawings – the project’s orientation. Missing it out had not just robbed us of our popularity, our chance to present our work, but stripped us of the grade and respect we had been aiming for. Needless to say, we became the laughing stock for the rest of the year. In hopes of being the best, we had forgotten the very basics that defines architecture itself. This is one event I recall even today and laugh endlessly at. What were we even thinking?
Naturally whenever now I begin a new set of drawings, the first thing I do even before writing my name, is mark a little arrow, with a capital N, on the top right corner of the sheet.
