Shadow transcripts in Ahmedabad

Through slivers in the living space, the views open up like a series of photographs. “There are spaces where you can look through several of these openings behind each other,” says Sonke. Through openings that look more akin to Lucio Fontana’s “slash” paintings, you can peer from the master bedroom, look down the light well, into another courtyard and into the next home and even the street. In this dwelling, it is not just spaces that are layered but the memories too. Mapping the layout of the older home that existed on the site, the architects provided markers to remind the homeowner of the family quarters he grew up in. When asked about the role of memory in her approach, she adds, “I think it’s also more about our memories, if not memories then influences, in terms of what you have visited and what has left an image on you. So, it’s the overlapping of those two things together.”

When the daylight was a little more forgiving, we ventured into the garden. The soft grass gave way to a coarser stretch, then a hint of mud and the coolness of the granite. Inside, I could catch glimpses of conversations and in the open ground — a squirrel, a flight of pigeons and the sound of crickets.

The composition of forms was apparent from this vantage point, the duality of the bi-coloured stone facade was dictated by the lintel height. As that datum shifts, so does the expression on the exterior. “When you design a house, it also influences the way the inhabitants think,” avers Khushnu. Speaking of her grandfather B.V. Doshi’s renowned Aranya and LIC projects, she continues, “What we talk about very romantically is how people have taken over the houses and made it their own. But we never do that with larger houses, we want to curate every little part of it. Somewhere we have to loosen up.” Perhaps the mark of a good design is understanding where to stop.

In the pared-back architectural envelope, this negotiation is clear as day. The homeowners wished for colour and that came in the form of artworks conceptualised by the designers. Khushnu laughs, “Le Corbusier once said to my grandfather, if the client chooses two things, you choose the third one. There should be a balance.” As we enter the upper story, a striking creation reveals itself. Part mirror, part brilliant red, the light reflects from the oakwood pergola above and onto the lower story. Here, she calls light “a generator of drama,” continuing, “We photographed this house in winter and at that time the way the light was coming in was very different because of the angle of the sun and now because it’s peak summer the light from the jaali is almost like a printed fabric or an inlay into stone.” In the pooja room, much like an act of divinity, the roof stretches like a chimney of light. In the bedrooms, through framed fenestration, light becomes a companion of the picturesque and through the skylights, it shoots down through a circular oculus.

In the mid-afternoon when the sunlight was receding into the evening, we stood in front of the wall next to the central courtyard with bated breath, waiting in anticipation for the light’s inlay onto the stone. As all of us huddled around the otla of the staircase, filtering through the oakwood jaali came a single row of light. With visible excitement, the photographer