Terrace, not just a roof

It is a balmy summer night, I am nine years old, and my grandmother is serving dinner to me and my large cohort of cousin brothers and sisters up on our roof terrace. It is 2020, it has been nine years since I moved to America. I'm visiting my family and I climb up two flights of stairs to practice yoga in the morning or to enjoy an ice cream treat with my preteen nephews at midnight. Countless favorite memories were created on the roof of my family home.

Indian rubber plant(Ficus Elastica) in the backdrop to complement the sweet musical notes of birds.

I'm not sentimental, I'm sensitive. I am sensitive to spaces and their architectural identity. Living in the United States but having been born in India has me slipping into regular exercises of comparing and contrasting. Theoretically, I get to pick and choose the best of both of my worlds. But the reality is the roof terrace is back in India and a sloped inaccessible roof is above me.

So to that, I say, it is not just a roof. It is culture, it is history, it is morning light, soft shadows of trees, it is a space or the lack thereof and it is definitely design. And to India and to all the tropical modernist architects - let us be intentional. Let's pass on our grandmother's dinner parties on the roof terrace.

God's Flower (Plumeria Acutifolia) thriving on the roof terrace.

(future post idea: Q & A with my siblings about our family home).