I last met Ranjit Sabikhi a fortnight ago. We spoke of many things, and I remember complimenting him on his beautiful handwriting.
With a characteristic twinkle in his eye, he asked me if I was still writing. We were interrupted, and I didn’t get to answer his question. That turned out to be my last conversation with him.
I don’t believe in premonitions, but neither of us could have imagined that the next piece of writing would be his obituary. It saddens me that it came so soon.
There are many reasons to admire an architect and urban designer like him. For one, he was always polite, principled, and persuasive—constantly advocating for and working towards the betterment of our built environment. He did this through his writings, his architecture, and his urban design.
I first made his acquaintance in Dubai. He was visiting the Middle East, probably for project work, though I never did find out why he was there.
It was at a dinner party, and I was contemplating architecture school. My father, a banker, was most concerned about the “financial prospects” of a young architect. Sabikhi reassured him in his thoughtful manner, saying, “As you sow, so shall you reap, but do remember—Rome wasn’t built in a day. Architecture as a profession is more marathon than sprint.”
Subsequently, I interned at his Greater Kailash office. It was a bustling studio. We worked in the basement, and drawings were sent to his ground-floor studio via pulley.
The studio had just transitioned to CAD systems, though the vestiges of an earlier era still remained—rotring pens, stencils, parallel bars, and sheets of gateway paper were all there, as were meticulously drawn sectional perspectives of housing projects. It was evident that he was particular, and there was a clear desire to design spaces that were elegantly detailed.
I regret not discussing those drawings with him. More than anything, they depicted a deep engagement with the discipline. Regrettably, we don’t draw like that anymore, and our engagement with the profession has taken on a different dimension.
In the years that followed, we met occasionally. He always inquired about the work I was doing and often made an astute observation or comment.
His passing is a loss not only to the profession but also to the city he called home. He will be remembered not just for his work as an architect and urban designer but also as part of that small group of people who, through their work, put their city and country first.
May his soul rest in peace.
One Response
Thank you for this beautiful tribute to my father. I quoted you at the prayer meeting we held for him a couple of days ago.