Birds and City Streets: A Discordant Harmony

It is the pigeons, mynahs, and cranes,
Troubling the people again and again!
Droppings, nests at eaves and windowsills,
A harmony discordant with noisy spills!

Crows! I call them thieves,
Mischief abounds with shit on my sleeves!
Gelephu has the birds for daily nuisance,
The dead ones are an unwelcome presence!

Old habits die hard, so we say,
And we find wasted food all the way,
Offered on footpaths and alongside each road,
As if earning back merits for the sins owed!

Look at the elderly, even the landlords,
Those who keep on feeding flocks of birds!
In other words, the city is left to wait for good,
Until the birds search for their own food!

No one knows how the birds would leave the city,
But I heard of meetings at the municipality;
Amidst whistling, screeching, coos and caws,
I believe the city shall come alive with new laws!

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A-z peep into architecture

A for atrium, arch, arcade
B for balance, brackets, balustrade
C for concepts, clerestory, ceilings
D for dome, doors, designs and drawings!

E for energy efficiency, eco-friendly, elevations
F for form, function, finishes, fenestrations
G for gazebo, gable, glass, geodesic,
H for hipped, harmony, holistic!

I for interiors, iconic, illusions, insulation
J for jambs, joinery, joist, juxtaposition
K for king-stone, kingpost
L for lintel, landing, landscape, lamp-post

M for massing, minimalism, materials, masonry
N for newel, nodes, niches
O for order, organic, orientation
P for pillar, pedestal, plinth protection

Q for queen-post, quixotic, quaint
R for roof, rhyme and rhythm, radiant
S for site, specifications, shades, symmetry
T for texture and topography

U for urban, upholstery, uniformity
V for vault, vista, vernacularism, verticality
W for wall, walkway, window, wainscoting
X for x-bracing, xeriscaping
Y for Y-bend, yard
Z for zoning, ziggurat!

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The Pillar

Pillar of strength,
Support for any width and length
Solid backing, inspiration and clarity
For my rise with all sanity!

Pillar of direction
Guiding the way for any mission
With no confusion
To chase most dreams and vision!

Pillar of decoration
Through life’s struggles to admiration;
Holding on, and on and on
In my heart though the support is gone!

Well, what a foundation of years ago
With the roots high-up and branches below!
A father above and a son lying low
With all my love to you, I shall forever bow!

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Happy New Year 2024

May Twenty twenty-four, the New Year ahead
Grant the Mother Earth all her wishes
And may there be no misses
With her love and kisses!

May peace, prosperity and wellness spread
Across oceans and continents alike;
Twelve months mean a lot of time’s hike
For another new year to pleasantly strike!

Twenty twenty-four: May it be a great year;
The Sun has kissed the Earth, O’ dear!
May our Planet be the Heaven
For fifty-two weeks, twenty-four seven!

May 2024 lead each one to righteous top
While seconds, minutes and hours walk nonstop:
May the days, weeks and months be worth
As the future hinges on few actions set forth!

Happy 2024! We shall rise higher from the year gone
While a couple of glimpses make 2023 done;
One, the COP28 was a gratifying pact
And above all, the Mindfulness City a grand fact!

Sunrise on 01/01/2024: Gelephu City

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Book Review: The Fountainhead

Ayn Rand in her book, The Fountainhead
Has extreme characters created;
Controversy too remains to these days
In depiction of architecture in many ways!

No doubt, the book is a novel, a fiction
With much friction and contradiction;
Writing is an art; for the crowd, better it is
When characters represent oddest of narratives!

Architecture, too, offers a full-circle-go
Of good and bad, high and low;
The right fodder to prove Rand’s point
With the living art as a converging joint!

There is no middle path:
Only extremes in her 700 plus pages swath
Of writing on individualism and collectivism;
Plots often supported by yellow journalism!

Bizarre and absurd theories but a good read,
Stories intertwined, situations sculpted to bleed
Mankind against mankind, one against the other:
The profession of architecture torn apart altogether!

We may say Ayn Rand has peeled the rot,
Exposed the evils, disengaged the knot
But, in reality, more controversy is added;
The Fountainhead is miserably architecture-cladded!

Photo Source: Google

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Recession Rains

“If you have no bread, eat cake,”
Get baked or frozen when life’s at stake;
Recession is apparently here by any definition
Combined with inflation, speculation and inhibition!

With construction sector being a component
Of ‘loan-freeze’ from banks at the moment,
Are we okay with our priorities?
Have we learned lessons from faltering countries?

Markets are down with less circulation of money,
Businesses are into days none of which are sunny!
Is this not recession? Let’s be frank;
We may reach a dead end to be point-blank.

I think we are many months into recession
With downward spiraling of income;
Denial is an obsession but we rather discuss
Implications and all avenues to cope with loss!

Boni, the first cash income of the day is elusive
And many go home empty-handed in rains abusive;
The onus isn’t on those opting for greener pastures
Nor on borders porous as economy fractures!

Summer, too, has encroached into the next season
While Nature reasons to blame human treason!
Are all our problems for the scapegoats to fix
As we blindly seek many non-issues to mix?

Who all are affected? It is right from quarries
Spreading even to unchartered territories;
‘Dignity of Labour’ was many years of mentoring,
What image of future are the blue collars fathoming?

The carpenters, masons, plumbers and welders,
And some SOEs are out of favor as nation builders;
Dealers in construction materials, electrical and hardware:
When recession rains, it's time for self-care!

Picture Source: Google
For representation only

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Quackery in Architecture

Pretends to have skills and qualification,
Belongs to other profession
With no license to practice, no registration
Is simply a quack by definition!

In architecture, quacks are a few site engineers,
Supervisors, surveyors, other profiteers
And those who look only for extra bucks
Just like a gory leech that sucks!

Do quacks have love for the profession? No, not at all!
But claims of professional expertise are just as tall
As the Himalaya’s glory
Or any other great story!

How does quackery happen in architecture?
Rules are bent, loopholes exploited,
Someone else appends name and seal:
A rot in the system that should heal!

Do away with quacks and heed my advice
As quackery does only extract a price:
Quacks are on lookout during pre-design works;
Unsatisfied with regular pays and perks!

A quack never returns to find you at the site,
I’m sorry to understand your present plight!
Your designs and drawings are illegally dumped
And not worth the money that you have pumped!

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Visions Rendered

Searched for a layman but couldn’t find one;
And so, my presentations were mostly in 2-Ds done!
A layman knows no drawing, I was long ago told
But lo! All have the belonging to the profession’s fold!

Sketch plans and a few words are my deeds
To explain all of the visual and spatial needs;
I take the client on virtual tour
From outdoors to the inside as spaces fill and pour;

A few times, my contract mentioned 3-Ds
And a hired team of experts slogged for the fees
As the so-called laymen were willing to pay;
It cuts time in decision-making, what come may!

Halls anew thronged for the handout pages
And for the hues and photo-realistic images!
In multitude, I had quietly thought
As art and glamour in profession was sought!

But are those laymen? No, definitely not
But affluent groups with exposures lot,
In the comfort of the funds not so hard-earned
Sculpting decisions through lessons learned!

Visions were rendered, all comments befitting,
An architect’s journey with heart uplifting;
From lines to dimensions, tales we glean
For the future where visual stories convene!

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My path to architecture and more...

Amidst childhood's wonders I wandered free
Unaware of architecture's majesty!
Owner-built houses were rustic and serene,
With mud and timber, dreams were little seen!

Simple dwellings where hopes would reside,
Floors of cow-dung were my mother’s pride!
In schools of huts on hills so green,
Bamboo and mud were a haven serene!

A thirst for knowledge like a magic stream,
In nature's embrace I'd laugh and dream
Youth's embrace revealed a world untold,
Real buildings soaring, stories unfold.

In Drukyul's dzongs stood structures bright,
Dreams flashing under the sky's soft light;
Yet, the essence of architecture was a distant art,
A faint spark flickering in my heart!

A tough decision paved ambition's sway,
In architecture's lap, I found my way;
Poetry’s realm also tore me like a rough sea
Forcing diverse knowledge into me!

Through cultures diverse I seek my role,
No regrets for I've found my soul!
A slow learner's journey, step by step,
In both the arts’ dances, my passion crept!

Each piece of work I undertake is work of art,
Client's delight and the joy in my heart!
When the going gets tough I stand tall,
With unwavering spirit I try to conquer all!

Life's grand symphony, a masterpiece divine,
In architecture's embrace, I align.
A purpose awakened, dreams take flight,
In both the arts I find my heart’s light!

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Memories untold

In childhood’s realm I roamed carefree and wild,
With sticks and mud, I built dreams undefiled;
Amidst fallen leaves my imagination soared
While I knew not that my future path was stored!

By stream’s gentle flow, toy houses took shape
Crafted with wonder with no plan, no escape;
Nature’s apprenticeship, I learned from each bend
Unaware of the architect I would grow to befriend!

From humble beginning, some interest did bloom
Merging play and passion even inside a room;
In those innocent moments, the foundation was laid
Unveiling a transformation amidst all things said!

Now, as an architect, I seek to recreate
The magic of childhood where creativity’s gate
Opens doors to wonders and to spaces that inspire
A blend of thoughts where visions transpire!

For in every structure, I strive to impart
The joy and freedom found in a child’s heart;
To build not just buildings but memories untold
Forever cherishing the days of a childhood’s mold!

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Architecture and poetry: what is so common?

Both architecture and poetry are forms of art
Both are precious providing balm to my heart
Both measure my time and life with precision
Both are creative forms of expression!

Both expose the human in us
Both exalt life’s purpose thus!
Rhyme or rhythm, metaphor or meter
Path-crossing and no less than gold’s glitter

Inspiring each other, both reach my eye fast
Solid and void or sound and silence are cast;
Looming large the structure in both stands,
Both bury me deep: soul searching, my friends!

Both, through the mind pierce my heart
Arousing robust feelings for both the arts;
For my mood and spirit both are best fit
And, on land or paper, both for ownership sit!

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Embracing the dawn of a new city!

I’m waiting for a grand headline news
About a city poised to get its dues
Of crowds overflowing, rustling and hustling
And businesses prospering and forever bustling;
Tracked, winged, channeled, greened and AI-fed
With records to be overtaken and reset;
A smart sustainable city to be proud of
For a great leap forward with care and love!

Within the womb of mother Drukyul,
Outshining the dreams bountiful and beautiful,
Perhaps, the present shall be left behind
And the city becomes the only one of its kind
Where the place shall be at its best to reckon with
The now pious whispers that form its monolith;
Nature and technology shall merge together
With endless possibilities, now and forever!

The town seems impatient for an upward ride
Far into the future as markets slide
Towards rock-bottom with hopes high with visible strain
Even as the human capital is sparse with brain-drain;
Information, too many, trickle; slow and small-
Mostly fickle word-of-mouth and ‘believe-it-or-not’ call;
One moratorium after another is swiftly imposed
While some key activities are actually closed!

Well, how far can we move into the future
While with age-old traditions and culture?
Hopefully, tourists shall flock-in through the border gate
In numbers that could change the city’s financial fate;
The city, otherwise too, shall cater to the nation’s health
Proping the pillars of happiness with revenue's stealth;
Hopefully, it shall be a melting pot of culture for prosperity
With grandest news each day for it to cherish till eternity...

And yes, this is about Sarpang-Gelephu stretch
As we embrace the dawn of a new city with a faint sketch!

Picture for representation only:
Source: Facebook

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Sketching to begin...

I often sketch to begin a project,
A scribble of thoughts to later refine or reject;
At times, creating a mess to fit on a sheet of paper
Providing clarity of the proposal altogether!

A motion is set as the mind scans
Through the process to evolve the plans
With images normally farfetched
For a skeleton of the proposal sketched!

Forwarding a quick solution is the craft
For clients wishing for an immediate draft;
A pencil and a piece of paper is magical
For an apt solution inevitable!

Hand-drawn sketches can be depth compliant,
With lines dark and grey to attract the client;
No over-thinking, no mood is tense;
Complex ideas are sketched with simplest sense

Sketching isn’t much the effort lost;
It’s over a cup of coffee and at leisure with lesser cost;
It takes lesser time to convey the final option to be
And with informed decisions, it is easier to secure the fee!

A notebook and a pencil remain in my big pocket,
To fulfill my wish-list and satisfy my work bucket
To clear the pathway for dark, bent and hazy lines
As life around me evolves in my own confines!

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Baakal (tree-bark) House

How to deal with exterior artwork and architecture
when no two pieces are same in texture,
colour, thickness and strength?
Options: orient in two or more directions
and/or adjust the lengths!

It provides the warmth and coolest comfort inside,
while, with the Nature, it blends to abide,
among others, with the tide of simplicity and honesty
in a spotlight that it deserves to be!

Long ago, I carried the pieces on my shoulders and head
while elders built a fabulous livestock shed.
Long ago, my interaction with the material was established
and since then, not a bit of memory vanished!

Well, what’s so great about this?
A reminisce of memories that kiss and that life isn’t amiss
as simple good old days return to be full of bliss
with added advantages of what it is
to working with newer tools to hide the boundaries
between the panels; the bark serves mankind for centuries!

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It is almost magical...

It’s almost magical if it appeals to the heart
With glamour becoming a part of the living art;
Expressive spaces with modest colors and play of light
Impressively enhancing the living for day and night!

I wish for rainbows in interiors; broad and soft
As I clamor for glamour to rise nonstop,
I wish for the spacious, lighted and sleek
And for surfaces and facades to prevail and speak!

Elegance in colors, lights or shades,
Enchanting us for many decades;
Uplifting the moods to a new height,
Environments befitting for lives bright!

With architectural glamour in simplest forms
And romanticism infused in the living norms;
Each dawn I wake up energetic and fresh
And at dusk, I retire to bliss and happiness!

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Renovation, restoration, reconstruction and remodeling...

There is a revised drawing on my table
Of an ancestral house unstable;
Nicely done, with colorful legend to indicate
The changes for its most modern fate-
“To be dismantled’, ‘to remain same”
And “new walls” to play the latest game!

And at site, I pulled aside a near-rotten frame
But something else fell apart and down it came;
Opps! The older walls were crumbling down
To be redone and to be finished brown;
Renovation we say but to reconstruction everything sums up
Or restoration is the need but remodeling is what it becomes of!

And, there was also a house on the hill
Partially gutted by fire and in ruins still;
We wanted to rebuild souls with its story
By restoring it to its former form and glory;
Ruins speak aloud to tell the past,
May be we are inviting nostalgia to last;
Generations of memories are cast again and again
That reign forever in every brain

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A tree stood at an edge...

A tree stood at an edge of our farm land
As a landmark; firm though not too grand
For a flash of memories of relationship love-hate
And a splash, that was, of bittersweet fate!

The tree is called gante, a local name
And there was another one with the species same
At a water source where I bathed and washed
At dawns, joyfully, with hopes high but soon smashed!

Flowers yellow, attractive and bright;
Big little wild bees searching nectar in dizzy light!
I was wrong to assume that the bees would die;
Poison filled, I suppose, and yet the bees could fly!

Then, as the flower fruited to coconut size,
A langur white dashed in for nature’s prize;
I again assumed that he would die
And, again, I was wrong and I knew not why!

Later, my cattle fed on fallen young leaves;
The poison then did not deceive!
And, yet again, I knew not why the hell broke loose
Till I understood gante and its use and misuse!

For ages, the seeds have been a source of edible oil;
Poison evaporates as we put the raw oil to boil;
As for the landmark, it is indeed a memorable one
With bittersweet taste of love-hate relations bygone!

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The mind is a room...

The mind is a room I guess
Where bubbles of ideas move and press
Shaping little things in one’s own controls
And in layers upon layers as the time rolls!

The mind has the walls I guess
Where issues push to address;
It has no limits unsurpassed
And yet within us heavily massed

The mind has a roof I guess
That blocks the sky for access
But it flies highest at speed of its choice
Evoking a ruthless silence to a pitched voice

The mind has facades I guess
And yet the sight I search is too less;
A door to it is the communication
Built on a hard-rock foundation

The mind is a vast space to function,
Walls are barriers of compulsion;
The roof, a limit capped in hardest times
With facades flowing in rhythmic rhymes!

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A Concept.....

A nucleus of thoughts and notions
Whereby all basics relate to in creations;
A concept revolves centrally and rests as a foundation
With a pulling force for an ultimate exaltation!

The built-form tells stories of an empire
Of structures with deepest purposes to inspire
Keeping concepts of living through history
With the fallen hero or a towering victory

It captures the eras in gold,
Human curiosity and mystery untold
As life evolves through to the present form
With peace as dynamics of the living norm

And, we respond with time for the future
Blending the past and present with architecture,
Creating a multi dimensional time-space
Recording a new trace of living-art in place!

Crazy mind may crack a concept weird and wild
Or it may be just reinventing a far off child,
Oceans apart, bridging a long gap
For, in architecture, ideas are no scrap!

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We say that the husk sells...

We say that husk fetches a higher price
Than the valuable fine grains of rice
Only if a greater role the power of words assume
To confer the husk a better resume!

A curriculum vitae, no doubt, has to speak
And way above others rendering them weak;
Remember all roses are colorfully bright
But the perfumed nectar is the bee’s delight!

Mentioning education, experiences and all that
With takeaways from a previous CV format
To suit new requirements isn’t enough I feel
To ranking a candidate for the required skill!

On a positive note, it’s a matter of communication,
Whereby, a resume is not just a formality or a fashion;
Hope never ends to carry out a project of your choice,
And, the more one works, it could still be, less a voice!

Well, there is a so-called portfolio for architects
As preferences for details vary in many aspects;
Meantime, I have discarded doing my resume long ago,
Spending some time on it could fetch a project though!

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