As she stepped out excitedly of the cool and comfortable environment of the reception area she was blinded by the sunlight. She squeezed her eyes and used her left hand as a shield against the reflecting sunlight to look above and scrutinize the sun which was looking like an amalgamation of molten gold and silver. She then closed her eyes. A kaleidoscope of images from the past came running in front of her eyes. And words? She could still hear those words loud and clear.
Five years have gone by but Riya still remembers that night like it was yesterday for it was the night that changed her life.
“I knew it. I knew it from the start. I even tried instilling some sense into your head, not just once or twice but at least a hundred times that architecture is not the right profession for girls. But you, you are as stubborn as your mother. You Sudha, you were the one who filled her mind with this crap” said her father, looking hard at her wife. “Now what? Even after spending so much money on your studies I am still paying for your expenses.”
“Please Papa, chastise me, but don’t say anything to Mum. She was the first person who made me realize my love for buildings, designs, clay and mortar. So what if I am not successful right now. I’d someday prove my mettle” said Riya with a new found confidence.
“Oh really? I have heard those words before. So what are you up to now?” mocked Riya’s father and said “designing somebody’s backyard or shall I say trash yard once again? Prove my mettle. Ha!”
“Oh Papa! I have landed an interesting project this time. People at the British Council want me to design and revamp the backyard of their building into something that should be peaceful, serene and useful to their students at the same time” explained Riya eagerly.
“Do whatever you want to. But remember, this is your last chance. You are going to be on your own if you fail this time” warned her father.
She was woken up from her reverie by the chirping of birds coupled with loud guffaws of a few students sitting nearby on the wooden chairs in Charbagh. “ They are still the same, the chairs, deep brown, probably a shade lighter than before. Shall I go touch them? See what it feels like?” Her feet automatically led her towards a couple of chairs and tables lying around and as she sat on one of the chairs lying close by, nostalgia seeped through her. She continued muttering to herself in a state of trance “carpenter bhaiya, make those chairs comfortable to sit on and good to look at.”
Words echoed in her ears.
“Yes didi, you have already told me several times. Don’t worry. It is going to be the best design I have ever made”
“It has to be. I want everything to be perfect.”
Charbagh was her first baby, as she loves to call it, her very first creation. Just as the birth of a child changes the life of a woman, Charbagh transformed her from a young, naïve, headstrong girl to a calmer, mature and a successful woman. The success of Charbagh brought many more projects to Riya.
This time her trance was broken by the scorching heat. She could feel a burning sensation in her bare arms caused by the sunlight. She rose while fidgeting with her white dupatta to look for some shade where she could observe her creation at peace. Grass dangling from a wall caught her fancy and as she moved towards her left, she caught a glimpse of a wall painted in colors of rainbow. “ Oh my favorite wall!” exclaimed Riya happily. “I remember painting it all by myself. The peacock, the trees, the colors, everything lends an air of positivity, of freshness and hope to the otherwise drab surroundings.” And then as if searching for something she turned around and looked straight at the wall opposite to the colored one.“ Oh my ! That warli art. It still looks so beautiful. I remember Mum suggesting me to go for this traditional madhubani painting instead of the modern art I was considering. Mum’s always been a life saver, always telling me to strive for perfection.”
Her train of thoughts was disturbed by a monk trying to pronounce a difficult word. He was sitting on a raised platform with grass all around him. He was facing a huge carved wall, with the image of Buddha engraved on it. Riya immediately remembered it; it used to be her favorite spot in Charbagh. She had designed it with utmost care, giving it an air of serenity. She walked towards the platform and then, as if remembering something, she stopped. She opened her slippers and climbed the steps to the platform. The grass felt warm and soft beneath her feet like it used to be five years ago. She sat down on her toes facing Buddha, right next to the monk. She closed her eyes and said a small prayer thanking the lord for making her what she is, for giving her what she desired. And then she smiled to herself. She had given her heart and soul to this project and so her drive to be perfect really paid off. Riya was a successful architect now and Charbagh had played a huge role in making her successful.