Is there something called ‘Indian Design’?
Text of the Lecture delivered at IES
College of Architecture, Mumbai on 8th October 2016
Anisha Shekhar Mukherji
I am going to begin this talk on Indian
Design with three quotes related to India and to Design.
‘India is an abstraction… India is a
geographical term. It is no more a united nation than the Equator.’[1]
This is from a speech made in 1931, by Winston S Churchill, the then PM of
Britain.
‘The
design profession has formally existed in India since 1962’. [2]
This is the opening sentence from the Wikipedia page of the Association of
Indian Design Industry.
‘Design: to indicate, to draw, to contrive, to form a plan of, to set apart
a plan or scheme formed in the mind.’ This is the definition of Design from The Chambers English Dictionary.
I am not certain how many of us will
agree with the opinions expressed in these quotes, and to what degree. But, it
is a fact that conventional opinions about What is Indian; What is Design; and
therefore What is Indian Design, are largely derived from a western cultural stand-point, especially a
stand point of an industrialized society. That explains why the Association of Indian Design
Industry believes that
the design profession in India has formally existed for only about 50 years,
even though it should be obvious that the extraordinary variety and level of
designs that have been generated in India through centuries, could only have
been the outcome of a formal and highly
evolved system of design. The fact that it is not obvious, to many of us even in the profession of design,
indicates that we are looking at very limited
and limiting notions of what
constitutes Indian design. Evidently, we need to be wary of unquestioningly accepting
such Western, or let us say non-Indian opinions. These opinions are formed on
the basis of some underlying sweeping notions, which we should recognise.
What are these notions?
First, is the current conventional concept of what makes a nation. This is essentially a notion of political identity that we have adopted from the western world, which has been
formed by their history. Indeed, the
very word ‘nation’[3]
is derived from Latin; and the name ‘India’ itself, was given not by the people
of this land.
Second, is the concept that India somehow got a distinct identity only after the advent of the British - an
opinion circulated by the British, which limits the definition of
‘India’ to a certain size and region, and the definition of ‘Indian’
to ‘race’.[4] However, size and region are not fixed, geographical boundaries and racial composition change over time. As many writers remind us, the British themselves followed
a process of ‘making India’, which involved ‘breaking India’ and reforming its boundaries and peoples. Interestingly,
Britain itself, today is a fraction of the size that it ballooned to about 200
years ago; and ‘it was only in 1707 that its present configuration resulted from the union of Scotland and England.’ If we were to apply the same logic, and tell the British that they would only qualify to be called a nation when
they were a certain size, I am doubtful if they would accept it.
Third, is the concept of design noted in dictionaries and many books on design, derived
from Western sources, which almost exclusively limits designing to the act of
drawing or planning; and makes a separation between planning something,
and actually creating it. This separation is an outcome of a fairly recent occurrence
in terms of world history, commonly termed the Industrial Revolution. This happened
about 250 years ago - not in India - but in the western world. It is not
a universal method of design, either in terms of time or space. It is not
the way in which design was practised historically anywhere in the world,
and certainly not in India. It did
not exist in the Indian perspective.
I
What is the Indian perspective? To understand this, the first thing to do, is to move away from definitions. A definition, by its very meaning, defines
or limits—and especially so in the context of India. The distinguished Indian scholar,
Chaturvedi Badrinath, notes in his detailed discussion[5] on the Mahabharata:
‘One characteristic of Indian thought has been that in the place of definitions
of things, it asks for their attributes or lakshanas. That is because
all definitions are arbitrary, whereas the lakshanas are what show a thing,
through which a thing becomes manifest. Thus, not the ‘definition’ of truth, or
of love, but the attributes of truth and love by which they are known is what
is central.’
The Lakshana of being Indian
So, to understand the Indian way, we need to look at not the definition of Indian or of design,
but the attributes of being Indian,
and of Indian design.[6]
To look for these attributes or lakshana,
we have to expand our view to examine
India and Indian-ness as conceived by
Indians.
To do so, we must go back to the
earliest Indian traditions of philosophy or ‘darshan’, which literally means ‘to see’. How we see ourselves,
forms our first and primary identity. Our most ancient philosophical works, such as the
Isha Upanishad, talk about the infinite vastness of space and time, in which
individual lifetimes of human beings count little, and are yet, an important part. In the Indian system, thus, the ideal
individual sees herself or
himself as an extension of the clan, the community, the country and even the
cosmos, all of which are connected, and are part of the same aatman or ‘spirit’. This
was not just an abstract principle
that scholars studied. It was explained and handed down in stories and tales, and
enacted in folk-drama and dance. For example, in the epic Mahabharata,
one of the reasons for the great war,
is believed to be the King Dhritarashtra’s inability to see and accept
this interconnectedness, despite
the advice of his minister, Vidura.[7] This basis of
Indian culture, of being sensitive to a wide context, led to its overriding lakshanas or characteristics.
1. The first of these lakshanas, is Responsibility and self-reliance. As the poet and philosopher,
Rabindranath Tagore explains[8]:
‘...unlike in Europe, the State has never been in India a central thing in the
life of the nation. While European civilization assigned a central position to
the State, Indian civilization from ancient times put in that place society
guided by dharma as it was conceived by the people.’
This lakshana of ancient Indian society survived even till the 18th
century, until the British changed this system. The Gandhian historian,
Dharampal, examined the internal records that the British made for circulation
amongst themselves when they moved into India. These records show that despite deliberate
efforts by the British to break up the structure of Indian society, people all
over the subcontinent themselves took on the responsibility to protect and
repair cultivable land, forests, rivers, wells, water-tanks, schools, temples, mosques,
market-places, etc. both within a village
and between different villages. For instance, in a survey of ‘over 2000
villages in South India in the Chengalpattu district during the mid-18th
Century[9], it is noted that a certain amount of the total
agricultural produce of the village, according to ancient custom, was kept
aside for ‘maintenance of various institutions and infra-structure’. This
was termed swatantrams, which literally
means independent. This was the custom in the sub-continent before colonialism -
that the community itself always retained independent
control over a certain ratio of the land of a village and its yield; which was not taxed, whatever be the
political kingdoms or authorities that came over it, but was used responsibly
by the people themselves.
2. The second lakshana is ‘Respect
for people with divergent views and sub-identities, and simultaneous existence of
such identities.
Since it was believed that every individual
has the latent capability and the responsibility to channelize the universal
spirit, historically,
within
the Indian culture we see that though there may have been a dominant school
of philosophy or religious belief, generally there was space for various beliefs
to exist simultaneously, even if they were not practised by the majority. The Himalayas have been venerated from
ancient times, as Kulparvatas, a lofty family of mountains, with ‘the
idea of one family of people encompassed by them,’[10] who had overlapping
regional, professional or community-based identities, which had room to be
changed or re-organised. Thus, most schools of Indian philosophy, in successive
centuries, have stressed an interdependence between people, objects and their
contexts. For instance, Hinduism in its later years draws from Buddhism,
Jainism, and even Islam and Christianity; similarly Buddhism, Jainism, Sikhism,
etc. arise out of an attempt to distil, adapt, or evolve a reformed idea of
Hinduism and other beliefs.
3. The third Lakshana is: Cyclical
Ideas of Space and Time
In
Indian tradition, space and time are believed to exist in cosmic cycles, which
have no beginning or end. Each cycle is actually a process of regression or falling. So, we live in
Kalyuga, the last and the worst in a cycle of four yugas, which repeat
endlessly. Such ideas are a vivid part of the Indian imagination even today—witnessed
as much in our daily conversation as in films, songs, and proverbs. We often
fall back on the phrase ‘Yeh Kalyuga hai’ to explain away present day
problems. This is completely different from dominant Western thought, which
sees time as linear, along which, according to the Darwinian concept of the
survival and progress of the ‘fittest’, humans march on, to claim and exploit the
resources of the Earth, and now even of Mars and the Moon![11]
In the Indian traditions, in contrast, since space and time are believed to be constantly expanding and shrinking, with no strict boundaries, human existence is also seen as a cyclical journey with no strict boundaries. Since very ancient times, Indians have journeyed constantly within the sub-continent across the length and breadth of its extremities, on well-traversed routes, regardless of different political kingdoms that may have controlled different parts of these routes. Two very famous such routes, termed the uttarpatha and dakshinapath[12], are known in Indian history from about 3000 years ago. These routes roughly coincide with present day National Highways 2 and 7, and were taken not only by kings on their way to conquer other kingdoms, but also by ordinary people - pilgrims, preachers, traders, etc., who did not just associate themselves with their immediate family and place of origin, but simultaneously identified with lands, rocks, rivers and forests across the sub-continent. The memory of being Indian is thus, not just linked to being free of British rule, but goes far back in time, linked by ideas of responsibility for its sacred geography and connections with local and larger histories.
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| Source: https://www.lunarland.com/ |
In the Indian traditions, in contrast, since space and time are believed to be constantly expanding and shrinking, with no strict boundaries, human existence is also seen as a cyclical journey with no strict boundaries. Since very ancient times, Indians have journeyed constantly within the sub-continent across the length and breadth of its extremities, on well-traversed routes, regardless of different political kingdoms that may have controlled different parts of these routes. Two very famous such routes, termed the uttarpatha and dakshinapath[12], are known in Indian history from about 3000 years ago. These routes roughly coincide with present day National Highways 2 and 7, and were taken not only by kings on their way to conquer other kingdoms, but also by ordinary people - pilgrims, preachers, traders, etc., who did not just associate themselves with their immediate family and place of origin, but simultaneously identified with lands, rocks, rivers and forests across the sub-continent. The memory of being Indian is thus, not just linked to being free of British rule, but goes far back in time, linked by ideas of responsibility for its sacred geography and connections with local and larger histories.
II
So, how do these lakshana
of Indian-ness manifest or reflect in Design?
The unique
characteristics of Indian design arise from a design-philosophy of there being no barriers in the cosmos. This gives humility to the
designer, instead of an arrogant attitude of specialisation. In fact, in the Indian tradition, there is no strict division
between the arts and sciences; or between art and craft. Craft is held to be a science, vijnana, and the knower of crafts, called vijnanika or scientist, is given an important status.[13] There is also no difference between art and craft; as S. Balaram reminds us in his book Thinking Design,
in India the
word used to denote both is kala. Neither is there any separation between
architecture and art. For example, Silparatnakosa,
a 17th century text on Orissan temple architecture, starts with a
prayer to Visvakarma, the divine
architect in Indian tradition,[14]
who is also the God of the arts and crafts,[15] and whose five
sons are the ancestors of the important groups of craftsmen. And in a complete contrast to the way in which
design is generally practised today, there is no separation between theoreticians and practitioners; between planning a design
and making it. Texts on architecture, Vastushastras, specify that the architect must not only know
mathematics, sciences, and how to draw, but also how to build on the ground.
The Mayamata
is a vastu-shastra written in the 10th century. As its
name indicates, it is held to be authored by Maya,
one of Visvakarma’s sons, and the ancestor of practitioners in wood-craft. He
is called the ‘wise and learned architect’, [16]
showing that a thousand years ago, the craftsman was considered to be both the designer
and builder, as well as an intellectual who could explain the rules governing
design and building. Historical examples of Indian designs across
various fields, share some lakshanas generated from this design philosophy, which
I will talk about, while focusing on some
outstanding examples in the
fields of architecture and attire.
The first of these, is:
1. The Lakshana of Flexibility and Versatility. In Indian architecture,
this is most evident in the way in which built and open space combined together
in flexible ways; for multiple
purposes, users and occasions. This is visible from the time of the
oldest urban architecture in India, such as in the remains of the cities along
the banks of the Saraswati and the Indus. Probably the most evolved instance of
such multi-functional architecture is the magnificent seventeenth century
palace-fortress built in Delhi for the fifth Mughal emperor, Shah Jahan.[17] Most of the buildings
in the Fort were designed as single-storeyed pavilions linked by colonnades and
courtyards, as can be seen in this map; instead of one fixed purpose, they were
formed and located such that they could be used for different functions at
different times. For example, the Emperor’s own pavilions, were not just used
for sleeping and living, but also for administrative meetings and for receiving
visiting ambassadors; or for celebration of festivals such as Holi.
In Indian attire, this lakshana can be best seen in the tendency to use unstitched, woven garments—despite the technology and the knowledge of stitching from very ancient times.[18] The most famous of such unstitched garments is the sari. Since it is not tailored and sewn to fit one individual, it can be handed down to several generations, to suit multiple users for multiple years. These are some saris that have come to me from my mother and grandmother-in law, which like the saris of most women from their generations and before, are stunning and individual pieces of design. The counterpart to this in men’s wear, is the multi-purpose dhoti, mundu, or lungi, which depending on the fabric, the weave and the drape, may be used for celebratory occasions such as pujas and weddings, or for informal occasions such as simply lounging around at home. Even traditional stitched garments in India, such as the ghagra and the lehnga, though with a naturally diminished scope in comparison to unstitched clothes, also have the flexibility of multiple use, and are handed down as family heirlooms.
In Indian attire, this lakshana can be best seen in the tendency to use unstitched, woven garments—despite the technology and the knowledge of stitching from very ancient times.[18] The most famous of such unstitched garments is the sari. Since it is not tailored and sewn to fit one individual, it can be handed down to several generations, to suit multiple users for multiple years. These are some saris that have come to me from my mother and grandmother-in law, which like the saris of most women from their generations and before, are stunning and individual pieces of design. The counterpart to this in men’s wear, is the multi-purpose dhoti, mundu, or lungi, which depending on the fabric, the weave and the drape, may be used for celebratory occasions such as pujas and weddings, or for informal occasions such as simply lounging around at home. Even traditional stitched garments in India, such as the ghagra and the lehnga, though with a naturally diminished scope in comparison to unstitched clothes, also have the flexibility of multiple use, and are handed down as family heirlooms.
2. The
lakshana of Individuality and improvisation—Improvisation
is an intrinsic Indian design-strength. Consider, for instance, the stonework
of the famed Taj Mahal, or the sculptured bases of many ancient temples all
over India. Despite an impression of symmetry and order, motifs are never
repeated in exactly the same way. Or think of the pavilions and courtyards of
traditional palaces. The sizes, details and proportions of such formal
architecture are never replicas or duplicates. Perhaps the most widespread
living example of this lakshana is the sari. Though the overall dimensions are
more or less fixed, there are many variations of the sari. Even saris from the same
region are never identical, though they may have characteristic motifs special
to that that region. Not just that - even when based on a similar overall
design or created by the same weaver, no two hand-woven saris are ever
exactly the same. Nor does the individual uniqueness of a sari, end in its
making. Though urban Indians generally know of only one way to drape it, a sari
can be reputedly draped in 108 recorded ways, and can be pleated and tied to
individual preference and skill. This improvisation
is visible in other forms of design practice, particularly in classical
Indian theatre, music and dance. Habib Tanvir, the famous theatre actor and
director, who acknowledged the influence of the design traditions of both classical
and folk theatre in his creation of a distinctive style of modern Indian drama,
has voiced his strong belief, that “…in Indian art
it’s important to …improvise.” [19]
3. The
Lakshana of ‘Utilitarian as Decorative’: The latitude to improvise within a
context, not only gives a huge creative opportunity, but also elevates the
everyday activity or artefact to something special. This contributes to another
lakshana of Indian design, where objects of use - from saris to
cities to kitchen-ware - are simultaneously useful and beautiful. This
was true for the majority of designs in the Indian tradition, and points to a lakshana of rigorous design-thinking based
on frugality despite an outward semblance of opulence. Looking at
traditional designs, one finds that each object of use was also a work of art;
and each beautiful object also had a use. The presence of this lakshana even till about a hundred
years ago, is recorded in an observation by George Birdwood, meant to form part
of a popular handbook on the industrial arts of India, in connection with the
reopening of the India Museum in London: ‘In India everything is hand wrought,
and everything, down to the cheapest toy or earthen vessel, is therefore more
or less a work of art’.[20] These are
some images of toys, kitchen are and other household objects from across the
country, hand-crafted ‘works of art’.
4. The lakshana of Sustainablity: Since
nothing was designed as simply utilitarian or purely decorative, most objects
had a continuing use, and were thought of in their entirety, to form a way of
life that was a celebration of all the senses. The ultimate idea of luxury
even today, is that of 'bespoke design’, which is sold with a tagline of ‘…not
just ownership or consumption of an expensive object, but an enriching,
individualizing, personal experience…which stays with the user for posterity’[21]. As for
instance, these beautiful saris. This is unlike the western ‘modernist’ way
of design based on making huge numbers of standardised, machine-made and repetitive
products. To make this method of production work, products are designed with a
shortened life-cycle, in a design-method especially promoted by Western
designers after the World Wars; the name they coined for it was ‘planned and
perceived obsolescence’. Superficial changes are applied cosmetically to make
these products look ‘different’; and aggressively marketed as new and novel, to
instil ‘in the buyer the desire to own something a little newer, a little
better, a little sooner than is necessary’.[22]
5. The Lakshana of Optimum efficiency: In contrast, Indian design-education and practice, stressed an optimal use of resources. Preliminary drawings and models were used
very rarely and only in important
or unusual building-projects. Thus, the huge urban-design
project of the Red Fort of Delhi and its city of Shahjahanabad, took less than 10
years to build, and did not require voluminous drawings or models. The court-histories of
Shah Jahan record only one instance of an architectural model being made for the
Red Fort, that of the Chatta Chowk, a type of covered market-way made for the first time in
the Mughal empire. In a Report on Types of
Modern Indian Buildings prepared in 1915, to survey and record how Indian
designers built in the indigenous way, Gordon Sanderson, an architect employed
by the ASI, notes that ‘excellent specimens of
modern architecture’[23] were
constructed in the traditional method of Indian design, in projects of different sizes ranging from the huge Tajul-Masajid
in Bhopal, established by the Begum of Bhopal, to individual houses,
dharamsalas, temples, etc. all over the sub-continent, with practically no drawings.
Even in complex work, such as carved jaalis
or Agra pietra dura, the masons or
inlayers drew the patterns themselves on the stone, without any help from a
draftsman. The
designs were also highly efficient in that they integrated structure, decoration
and form; it is difficult to separate a building element into just structure or
just decoration. This spirit of optimum efficiency, where no
element is superfluous, is a well recognized quality of good design. Similarly,
if
we look at most
traditional saris, we find that the decoration is part of the structure
of the cloth. That is why it is resilient enough to withstand continued use.
The design effort integrates decoration, form, and structure; it is part of
spinning the material, composing the patterns and directly weaving them on the
fabric. And rarely is it made through elaborate drawings. This is true of not
just saris, but also of many crafts in India even today, as for example, in the
highly complex patterns made in Sanjhi work, where the craftsperson skilfully
cuts out patterns in paper, without making any drawing before-hand.
6. The Lakshana of
Egalitarianism. All this was possible because, instead of the idea of
centralised control, the Indian approach to design was decentralised. The Mayamata
states that all the four categories
of building technicians must always be
honoured. The hierarchy and division of responsibilities amongst these four
categories—the sthapati, the architect; the sutragrahin, who
measures length, height and proportions; the taksaka, who cuts/carves
stone, wood and bricks, and the vardaka, who assembles and erects the
building, is clearly stated; as is the fact that, depending on occasion and
ability, the sutragrahin, taksaka etc.
can take on the duties and even the title of the sthapati. Thus, there was no
rigid compartmentalisation. A sculptor could also be an architect; a
painter could also be a mason, and so on. This is the main gateway to the 17th century
Guru Ram Rai Durbar in Dehradun, also called the Jhanda Durbar. Tulsi Ram, one of the
artists who made many of the beautiful murals here, has painted himself on a
side-panel; he names himself as mistri,
tasveerwala (mason, painter).
This was possible because of a linked system of aesthetics, which evolved continuously through diverse crafts-practitioners, who came together to create distinctive design. Thus, in the Red Fort and Taj Mahal, we find mention of not just the main master-builders, Ustad Ahmad and Ustad Hamid, but also of 40 different guild-heads and their teams of calligraphers, garden-designers, carpenters, dome-builders, finial makers, masons, stone cutters, sculptors, and inlayers[24]. The royal city of Jaipur made in the 18th century, also successfully used such a system.[25] Even till the 20th century, as The ASI Report of 1915, notes, much of the decision-making and design was left to the workmen. Since knowledge about aesthetics was also shared by the users and patrons, design choices across different economic classes were similar. In the sites of the Harappan cities, as Neil Macgregor, Director of The British Museum, notes, ‘there seems to be little difference between the homes of the rich and the poor’.[26] And a Persian text from the 1820s, documenting eleven trade-crafts and their practitioners in Bareilly, describes their clothes as being ‘just like other inhabitants of the country’ or ‘like upper-class people’,[27] while a British officer in the Nizam’s court at Hyderabad, writes that he could not distinguish much difference between the poor and the rich.[28]
This was possible because of a linked system of aesthetics, which evolved continuously through diverse crafts-practitioners, who came together to create distinctive design. Thus, in the Red Fort and Taj Mahal, we find mention of not just the main master-builders, Ustad Ahmad and Ustad Hamid, but also of 40 different guild-heads and their teams of calligraphers, garden-designers, carpenters, dome-builders, finial makers, masons, stone cutters, sculptors, and inlayers[24]. The royal city of Jaipur made in the 18th century, also successfully used such a system.[25] Even till the 20th century, as The ASI Report of 1915, notes, much of the decision-making and design was left to the workmen. Since knowledge about aesthetics was also shared by the users and patrons, design choices across different economic classes were similar. In the sites of the Harappan cities, as Neil Macgregor, Director of The British Museum, notes, ‘there seems to be little difference between the homes of the rich and the poor’.[26] And a Persian text from the 1820s, documenting eleven trade-crafts and their practitioners in Bareilly, describes their clothes as being ‘just like other inhabitants of the country’ or ‘like upper-class people’,[27] while a British officer in the Nizam’s court at Hyderabad, writes that he could not distinguish much difference between the poor and the rich.[28]
Models of Identity and Design
How we identify ourselves individually and
collectively, affects what we create and how we create. If there is anything recognisably Indian
in designs created and used by Indians, it is owing to an understanding of,
and an identification with, indigenous aesthetics and ethics – which, we must remember, are inter-linked. Most of
us have lost that understanding. Many Indians today grow up without the
sustained company of an extended family or strong local networks, and in an
atmosphere where empathy and attachment to our land and our culture, are
eroding. Additionally, our educational curriculum generally transmits a system
of learning derived from the modernist tradition of Europe and America. So, we only find isolated lakshanas of ‘Indian-ness’ in the
practice of design - for example in the widespread ability of Indians to still
improvise; to be self-reliant rather than follow centralised decision-making. But,
this lakshana is no longer guided by a unifying aesthetic and moral vision,
leading to a breakdown in society and in design.
If ideas of nationhood,
like design, are modelled on imitations from the western world, we, as individuals
and as designers, will model our identities on stereotypes of European or
North-American cultures. To reclaim our identity, we will need to shrug off the
brain-washing that makes us constantly look to the Western world, and which classifies
our indigenous systems as ‘less-developed’, ‘less-attractive’ and ‘backward’.
This does not mean that we unquestioningly accept these systems, but that we
analyse them, and find for ourselves what is most relevant in them. Such a
process of self-realization will lead to self-reliance in sync with our times.
The famous Australian landscape designer, Michael White who re-named
himself, Made Wijaya, is widely attributed
to be the ‘creator of ‘Design Bali Modern’. He has written about the popular
belief amongst the Balinese, “called the Desa, Kala, Patra (juggling place,
time, situation), an ancient Hindu tenet; where balanced harmony and
flexibility are as important as a strict adherence to the religion’s code, and
how it has allowed the Balinese culture to move unscathed into the 21th
century.”[29] Nationality, then is only
incidental. Designers who cultivate the lakshanas of harmonious flexibility
and frugality, historically seen in Indian design, may be said to represent its
timeless and unique qualities–whether or not they were born in India, such as the
architects, Joseph Allen Stein and Laurie Baker—or whether or not they are
trained in the modernist way, such as the craftspeople, who have designed the interiors
of the Tribal Museum at Bhopal, and transformed its industrial framework through
local hand-crafted materials, into mesmerising spaces, textures, colours and
details, which are completely different from any Museum anywhere in the world. Such lakshanas, in terms
of sustainability, are the need of the hour today, in the entire world, and
should be recognised and fostered not just as desirable qualities of Indian
design, but of good design universally.
India:
Speeches by the Rt. Hon. Winston S. Churchill (London: Thornton
Butterworth, 1931), pp. 163-70. John David Olsen, The
Churchill Papers, archive reference CHAR 9/98
[3] Its definition has
varied over time, but essentially it is understood as ‘a large group of people
sharing the same culture[3], language or history, and
inhabiting a particular state or area’. Oxford Dictionary and Thesaurus, Indian Edition 2003, OUP, Delhi,
Catherine Soanes, Alan Spooner, Sara Hawker. It defines ‘culture’, as ‘the
arts, customs, and institutions of a nation, people or group’.
[4] The Oxford dictionary
defines Indian: as ‘belonging to India (with various boundaries); a member of
one of the races of India’.
[5]
Seminar, April 2010 Issue: The Enduring Epic, ‘Living with the
Mahabharata’, p. 69
[6]
A thought-provoking exploration of ‘Is there an Indian Way of Thinking’, can be
found in pp.34-51, The Collected Essays of A. K. Ramanujan, edited by
Vinay Dharwadker; See also ‘Bharatiya Chitta,
[7]
Mahabharata, Udyog Parva, ViduraNiti; see Bharat Gupt, India: A
Cultural Decline or Revival, Preface, p. xiv, D. K. Printworld (P) Ltd, New
Delhi, 2008; Chaturvedi Badrinath, Mahabharata, An Enquiry into the Human
Condition, p. 91;
http://blog.practicalsanskrit.com/2009/11/renounce-smaller-selfish-interests-for.html
[8]
The Mahatma and The Poet, Ed. Sabyasachi Bhattacharya, p. 25,
Introduction.
[9] This survey also
recorded the total land belonging to each village, the utilization of this land
for various purposes, the net cultivated land, the details of land assigned to
various village institutions and functions, p. 19, Dharampal, Essays on Tradition, Recovery and Freedom
[10] Some Aspects of Indian Culture,
C. Sivaramamurti, p. 5
[13] Silpa in Indian Tradition, Concept and Instrumentalities,
R.N.Misra, p. 13
[14] Silparatnakosa of Sthapaka Niranjan
Mahapatra, Edited and Translated by Bettina Baumer and Rajendra Prasad Das,
IGNCA and Motilal Banarasidass Publishers Pvt ltd. First published 1994
[17] For a detailed analysis of the design
of this fort, see The Red Fort of Shahjahanabad, Anisha Shekhar
Mukherji, OUP 2003.
[18] Evidenced by the archaeological finds
of needles in sites of the Harappan civilization - in Lothal, Rakhigarhi and Banawali. See
S.R. Rao, Lothal, p. 54-5, Archaeological Survey of India, 1985, Reprint
2009. Silk and wheel-spun cotton have also been found in two new sites, Michel
Danino, The Lost River, p.112, Penguin 2010. And seen in the representation of both draped
and stitched clothes in sculptures. Anamika
Pathak, p. 13, Indian Costumes
[19] ‘My Milestones in Theatre, Habib Tanvir in
Conversation’, p. 23, Charandas Chor; his daughter,
Nageen, in an interview, http://www.thehindu.com/features/metroplus/living-theatre/article4724470.ece
[20] The Arts of India, 1880, G.C.M.
Birdwood, Reprint 1971, The British Book Company, p.131.
[21]
Living, Issue 7, The Park Magazine, ‘Made to Measure’, p.03,
[22] The practice of artificially shortening product lifecycle
in order to influence the buying patterns of consumers, popularised in
the last century by Clifford Brooks Stevens, an influential American industrial
designer. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brooks_Stevens, accessed 24.04.1014. See
also: http://jayhanson.us/annie_leonard_footnoted_script.pdf
[23]
Ibid. pp.11-17
[26] Neil Macgregor, p.81, Indus Seal, A
History of the World in 100 Objects
[27] Ghulam Yahya, Crafting Traditions,
Documenting Trades and Crafts in Early 19th Century North India,
Trans. Mehr Afshan Faroouqui
[28]Dharampal, Essays in Tradition,
Recovery and Freedom, Collected Works Vol.V, 2001, pp. 17-8
[29] Geeta Doctor http://www.thehindu.com/features/magazine/geeta-doctor-pays-tribute-to-balis-maverick-architect-made-wijaya/article9115038.ece
