At CEPT University, during one lecture, architect Prof. Vasavada humorously shared an unusual perspective on windows. He recounted how, when clients asked about the windows for their homes, he would half-jokingly suggest replacing them with paintings or prints of windows. His reasoning? Why waste valuable wall space on a window that would rarely be opened for fear of dust or to preserve the air conditioning? And even if one did have a window, it would often be covered with heavy curtains, making the room even darker!
Though his comment was made in jest, it echoes a more profound truth about the role of windows in modern urban life. Historically, windows served as portals, openings that connected the enclosed darkness of a room to the bright world outside. They tamed harsh light, invited in gentle breezes, and became vessels of countless memories and emotions. Windows were witnesses to moments of joy and reflection, and in many stories, they were symbols of hope and escape.
Fairy tales recount princes saved from towering fortresses through windows, and lovers like Romeo and Juliet exchanged words of passion from these very frames. Windows became romantic thresholds immortalized in Hindi cinema through songs like "Mere Samne Wali Khidki Mein," celebrating their youthful charm in human life. In the tales of Arabian Nights, Persian windows framed the moonlit sky. At the same time, Sufi poets elevated them as metaphors for life's truths and the world beyond.
In their dual roles of function and decoration, Windows have long been symbols of aspiration. From the outside, they represent the social status of the inhabitants within, while from the inside, they serve as escape routes from the claustrophobia of built environments. Jaipur's Hawa Mahal tells a unique story about windows, where unseen but present women could observe the bustling city through intricately carved screens. These windows became silent witnesses to the gendered dynamics of society—spaces that allowed glimpses of the forbidden world while maintaining social boundaries. In Kerala, the traditional jali work that covers windows serves a similar function—allowing those inside to look out while remaining hidden from view, a tradition perfected today with modern reflective glass in urban architecture.
In my artistic journey, windows have always intrigued me. I remember a Gujarati bungalow in Paldi, Ahmedabad, near Parimal Char Rasta. Its transparent glass windows were perpetually closed, yet light danced behind them, creating an ethereal interplay. The fragility of the glass—something so transparent yet providing a sense of security from the chaotic, violent world outside—fascinated me. I've painted windows many times, attempting to capture the intricate connection between these physical frames and human experience.
Over time, I've understood that windows are not just simple openings. Complex symbols represent a negotiation between the inner and outer worlds, ornament and necessity, and freedom and enclosure. As our cities become more polluted and dust fills the air, windows close one by one. They remain shut for weeks, even months, slowly fading from memory. What was once a passage to light, nostalgia, and connection with the city becomes a barrier—a reminder of a world outside that is no longer as welcoming.
My exploration of windows emerged from my inquiry into cloth, gender, persecution, and the body. As I mentioned, windows are not mere openings but complex symbols that reflect the negotiation between the inner and outer worlds, decoration and utility, and freedom and confinement. Similarly, cloth, as both a concealer and a medium of fashion, embodies the idea of "fashion as selective revelation." Just as windows offer glimpses beyond, clothing reveals parts of the body while concealing the rest, becoming a window into the person within. Human attire is a history of these selective windows of revelation.
A cut here or a tear in the fabric of fashion is a statement of the self within. Just as the inhabitants of a home reveal their presence from behind closed walls, a person seeks to express their existence through what is concealed—a window of liberation. It mirrors Prof. Vasavada's tale of windows everyone prefers to keep shut, even though they long to glimpse the world outside or visibility from inside.
Windows became a metaphor and philosophy in the unfolding drama of concealment and revelation found in clothing.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, Madhulika Mohan and I collaborated on a short social media project called "From Your Windows" to capture outside world views through windows.(https://www.facebook.com/groups/346302976841126)
This was also the period I was asked to write a short essay on clothes by my thesis guide on Fashion - Cloth, skin, Skin Cover: Form and Faith as Art or Visual Culture in Fashion (https://essaynarendraraghunath.blogspot.com/.../cloth... )
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