ALIBAG

ARCHITECT A RAHUL MEHROTRA AND LANDSCAPE DESIGNER KUNAL MANIA R RIFF OFF EACH OTHER, ANTICIPATING HOW TREES MIGHT A GE OR A POOL MIGHT B CATCH DAPPLED LIGHT, ΤΟ CREATE ARCHITECTURE THAT A G CELEBRATES NATURE IN COUNTLESS WAYS.

- RAJASHREE BALARAM

In the central courtyard of a house in Alibag stands a champa tree in semi-cascade, its fragrance spilling like uncontained joy into the dining area, the living room, and the swimming pool.

Landscape designer Kunal Maniar, who planted the lone beauty in memory of Geoffrey Bawa, feels there is no way one can go wrong with a champa tree: “It’s like that classic Banarasi sari in a woman’s wardrobe.” Maniar’s soft spot for nostalgia is a recurring motif in the two-acre property—one that presents itself strongly in the way he has annexed ideas of intelligent, biophilic landscape design with memories of comfort borrowed from childhood. For instance, clusters of mango trees, sculpted to form an igloo, nestle charpoys within—a perfect spot to submit to an afternoon siesta under the overhang of sweet, succulent mangoes.

“We have come to a point where we find it easier to plonk a sun umbrella in the middle of the lawn. It’s as if we have forgotten the joy of resting under the shade of a tree,” says Maniar. In deference to the old ways, his team— including Hamza Barafwala, Pandurang Patil, Nikhil Kawale and Chetan Mhatre— planted heliconias all around, for gardeners to trim and adorn pots and vases around the house.

“Why order hydrangeas from another city when you can have local, homegrown flowers? Our mothers did that every time they cut a few flowers from the home garden and arranged them—leaves, branches, and all—in a vase.”

That nature is allowed to have free rein on the property is evident in the bounty of pomegranates, custard apples, avocados, bananas, and moringa. One cannot help but experience joy at the sight of kokum trees readying themselves to yield the dark harvest that will even tually find its way into tangy sherbets and fish curries.