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The Sukhna Lake has been a silent and soulful companion to the city and its people, through the varied moods and hues of their lives. The book Sukhna – Sublime Lake of Chandigarh is a pioneering work that explores the heritage lake through multiple viewfinders – history and culture, anecdotes and use, design and aesthetics, future and perils, writes Sreedhara Bhasin This morning I was at the lake. I cannot remember any time when the lake seemed more beautiful than this morning. The delicate feel of autumn was spread all over the azure sky and the white clouds. I ran to the end and sat on the stone bank. As far as my eyes could see, there was Kash — bulrush growing at the edge of the water. A bunch stood tall right next to me — the silvery sheen of the feathers glowing in the morning sun and undulating in the cool breeze. The water had risen again and splashed along the grassy sides of the bank. Black bees played with the lavender-coloured wild flowers that seemed to be surfacing from the moist ground. A few errant herons screeched and landed on the restless water. As the breeze caressed my face, a sense of stillness and peace descended upon me. Dragonflies, with translucent bodies, hopped over the spiky dry grass. I looked up to the sky and thought of all dear ones, whose love had brought me to this point. I thought of this enormous universe and the magnificence and joy that are granted to us. I felt my spirit flowing out of my body and billowing out to something much greater — the centrality of the cosmos. Then I saw the snake — its tiny head protruding barely above the water, its long body slithering close to me. Within a few seconds the snake was gone. I had seen him last week at the same place. Is it a sign? A sign — that nothing is lost forever? Do all our lost love and pining come back to us in a different shape on a golden morning when we least expect it?
I read with interest, Sukhna-Sublime Lake of Chandigarh, a new book by Rajnish Wattas, former principal of Chandigarh College of Architecture and the present Director of Tagore Theatre, in association with Deepika Gandhi, also a faculty member of the College of Architecture. It is a pioneering work to present the Sukhna, as a lake of soulful beauty and remarkable history, and a testament to architectural triumph of aesthetics over bare need. The book explores the heritage lake through multiple viewfinders — history and culture, anecdotes and use, design and aesthetics, future and perils. It is an interesting and informative presentation of the lake divided in concise chapters with lots of glossy photographs. The second part of the book contains a photographic diary of the lake. I exclaimed when I read the chapter on lake lighting. I have often wondered about those low and strange-shaped lighting fixtures along the lake promenade. Those were designed by Corbusier himself. The illumination of the Sukhna Lake was Le Corbusier’s own design, so that the visitor could “see the stars in the sky and the stars in the mountains too, in the water and all in absolute silence.” Standing at the stone parapet in the evenings and gazing at the soft, flickering lights atop the hills, I have often recited a song of Rabindranath Tagore, which is uncannily close to Corbusier’s vision. All the stars in your sky tonight, rise within my heart. Your entirety surges towards me and abounds within me — sundered.
As the preface notes — “The Sukhna Lake has been a silent and soulful companion to the city and its people, through the varied moods and hues of their lives.” “What could have been just another dam…to check the rapid silting of the Sukhna Choe — was converted into a beautiful promenade by the creative genius of Le Corbusier.” The book offers an interesting genesis all that transpired during the inception days. Although, now the visual crown jewel of the city, the lake was originally created for functional and environmental needs with zealous adherence to Corbusier’s “Care of Body and Spirit” principle of planning, and with almost obsessive dedication to ecological balance and aesthetic goals. It was decided very early on that the promenade would be offered to the people — as a zone of peace. No vehicular traffic would be allowed on the embankment and no buildings would be constructed between the lake and the Shivalik Hills at any time. The book describes some of the things we see every day, but do not know the background, for example, the control gate — the red rounded brick structure with two gates of different heights was designed by Corbusier as an entry point. The policemen often drink their morning tea leaning on the red wall — which was a small part of an enormous quest for beauty in building a dam.
I love the lake almost as passionately as Pierre Jeannereret, whose ashes were immersed in the Sukhna as per his wish. Pierre Jeanneret also designed the first paddleboat that floated on the lake. The lake has been my soulmate, a little piece of paradise from which I draw sustenance, inspiration, solace at a time of utter grief and energy to look forward to a busy day. The lake, like some of our gods with cosmic power, can change its aura and its mandala. The autumn lake is a play of light and shadows while the breeze rustles the trees and the Shivalik hills turn pale. You can often hear the peacocks announcing a diva-like presence. The winter lake is more ensconced — it loses its lightness and becomes thick and enveloped, the morning mist slowly parts as the sun lazily rises across the horizons. The hills become grey and smoky — the clouds humble. The water is like a virgin piece of slate and dotted with the migratory birds. If you walk till the end of the jogging trail, then you get to see the most wonderful pond, surrounded by receding vegetation and emerging landmass. The birds are often in the pond, playing in water that was full of water lilies just before the onset of winter. I absolutely adore the winter lake, for the trees come alive with flowers. The bauhinias add an astonishing splash of fuchsia in the necklace like ramp. The aquamarine kingfishers are not easily frightened. The coots and the poachards sometimes come close to the water’s edge.
In summer, the lake becomes sluggish, as humidity rises from the water and permeates through the long rows of cypress. The heat brings out the gulmohars and the fragrant kamanis in the mysterious mix of shrubs and trees on the sloping embankment. The magnificent cassias bloom with a fierceness. I read with particular interest the chapter on landscaping and the painstaking and almost unbelievably detailed planning that was implemented. The book also furnishes succinct narratives on many of the facilities, like the Lake Club, the Island. The authors have reflected on the journey of the lake from an oasis of peace to a ‘hang-out’ place for all. The weekend rush is the sign of changing times, the random trash — being the collateral damage.
I have never seen as many unfettered and kindred souls as I do at the lake. People pursue the welfare of their body and soul in the most uninhibited manner. That is another mark of Sukhna. You can be what you want to be there. If you want to chant Om from the depth of your naval, you can. If you want to practice the primeval laugh therapy, you can. You can meditate or pretend to meditate. You can do push-ups till the dogs leave you alone or you can practice aloud every Kishore Kumar song that you know. Where else can you find such unbridled freedom? The authors have discussed the “Troubled water of Sukhna.” A multi-pronged initiative has been undertaken to save the lake, which is rapidly losing depth due to heavy silting. The writers have also furnished details of the proposed developments around Sukhna. The administration is in the process of setting up a large multi-phased aquatic park near the lake. The reflection is apt — “The lake was meant to be and still is a place for the masses. The swelling number of visitors cannot be curtailed by any means. The only solution then is to find a way of expanding the infrastructure of the lake without compromising on the aesthetics and ambience.” I fear progress, especially one that has a quotient of commerce. I fear losing the pearl — beauty and oneness with nature — that was laid deep within the waters by the visionary designers. Can we really save Sukhna? Photos by Pradeep Mahajan |
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Here is a page from my Sukhna Diary, circa October 2007. 
The fervour and almost blind zeal for “beauty and peace” that fuelled the creation of the lake comes out very clearly in this book. The “cube” near the peepal tree that young boys do push-ups around and the flight of stairs behind, leading to a raised platform — a bandstand — was also part of his design. Very few of us know that Corbusier, while designing the Lake Club, sunk it three metres below the road level, to prevent visual interferences. 
