Communities arise where culture and recreation meet. When communities become associations, a village is formed. In these realities, we live our aspirations for community.
Sustainable cities are like forests: they are diverse and constantly growing. In the forest, every branch, every trunk, every tree is unique, blooming in its own way. But everything is connected. Everything in the forest plays its role in the cosmic symphony - in the city as well.
The city is also an organism, stable and mobile, static and constantly transforming. Humans are part of its internal machinery, just as our cells are part of us. Streets act as vessels, connecting us to a web of life that is similar to a biologically diverse forest.
So why don't we see our cities, our villages as biotech facilities? Why don't we plan and build them in natural ways that should revive the spirit of the community, the spirit of a positive culture of co-creation?
Think of Jaipur, where Maharaja Sawai Jai Singh II ruled India in the XNUMXth century. He imagined the city as a paradise on earth. Mindful of the ever-changing climate as well as the movement of the sun, Mr Singh created a 'Pink City' built around craft guilds and clusters of sustainable co-operative housing. As Jaipur cultivates body, mind and spirit, it thrives socially, economically and culturally.

Hawa Mahal is a wing of the palace complex in Jaipur, built of pink sandstone in the shape of Krishna's crown
Jaipur resembles the ancient Vastu-Purusha mandala – the embodiment of a design philosophy that aims to create a balanced and healthy environment. The ancient science of mandala making has shaped most of India's traditional settlements, where seasonal events such as festivals and fairs take place. Mandala adapts to completely different climates and places, and, in turn, inspires them.
Unfortunately, we eventually lost this spiritual approach to architecture and design, adhering instead to the predominant planning model of big budgets, large-scale structures, and isolated behavior. Consequently, our housing has become separated and fragmented, and we do not see the infrastructure and life of the city in an integrated way.
Instead of building more megastructures that constantly consume time, energy, and human and natural resources, aren't we better off following a more natural, biological approach to architecture that fosters the development of small but comprehensive clusters of settlements and perhaps creates a new world ?
These smaller settlements will be sustainable and reproducible. They would be full of energy and vitality, but they would not grow beyond a certain size. They will have the same benefits as a biologically diverse network.
Such settlements will not consume excessive time, energy or natural resources. Residents will have global skills and be able to lead an appropriate, fulfilling lifestyle. This, in turn, could help save our planet from the current catastrophes and discords that cause anxiety and doubt about the future.

The gallery structure in Ahmedabad, designed by Balkrishna Dosha, has a multi-domed roof supported by tree-shaped columns
Often in ancient towns and cities that are socially, economically and culturally well-knit, we are struck by a surprising, unexpected stillness and slowness of life. Our desire to achieve and conquer disappears and we begin to think about how nature connects us and how we can share and honor our inner essence.
In addition to such peace, such cities awaken in us love, compassion and humility. To revitalize the city, you need to create humble and tender connections that encourage people to unite, share and feel part of the greater order, part of Mother Earth.
According to ancient Indian texts, a sthapati (architect, architect or planner) must be aware of the constant cycles of nature, follow the laws of time and energy, as our ecosystem does
Sthapati is obliged to merge this natural flow with the life of the inhabitants. This method of interdependent planning allows for cultural activities and social integration. This form of architecture gives all individuals, regardless of class or creed, the ability to connect with their true essence.
Isn't that why Japanese homes have a small bonsai tree to remind the residents of their connection to the eternal mystery of existence? Today, although we are connected globally, we are losing spiritually. Prana, a subtle energy that can only be felt, is the missing link that, if ignited, can rekindle the spirit of the community.
Can we not apply these planning philosophies in the present – to create a strong environment of positive culture based on broad participation in the future?
Author's article by Balkrishna Dosha, published in NYT, 06.12.2018



