Before the advent of pumps and pipes and newly engineered contraptions for accessing groundwater, there were stepwells. A quiet, soothing pool of water cradled deep inside the recesses of the earth and approachable only after climbing down a flight of stairs—stepwells served as water tanks for sun-baked travellers and retreats for local communities. Called Baoli in local parlance and mostly scattered across the northern Indian states of Gujarat, Rajasthan and Delhi, these ancient architectural marvels didn't just slake parched throats but also became social hotspots for prayer, meditation and community bonding.
For Chicago-based journalist Victoria Lautman, these old water-harvesting systems represent "a layer-cake of history". Her book, The Vanishing Stepwells of India, documents 75 fascinating stepwells with their stories and legends in addition to GPS coordinates for curious readers bent of exploring these stone-carved structures beyond the page. In light of the recent action taken to rescue a 100-year-old stepwell in Haryana from urban degradation and disrepair, Lautman's book holds a mirror to this unique historical treasure which still cries out for attention in spite of successful conservation efforts.
Is it possible to restore Baolis or stepwells to become fully-functioning reservoirs of groundwater which nearby communities can benefit from? Does restoration only imply developing it as a tourist spot for heritage enthusiasts?
It is absolutely possible to restore stepwells as functioning resources for their communities, and in fact this has been done in many places already. The most common problem encountered in these cases is re-establishing a connection to ground water, often lost due to silting up from disuse, or lowered water tables, or toxic conditions like general filth. But restoring water is only part of a more complex issue, which is to ensure that a community commits to maintaining it. Without custodianship, there is no point in any sort of restoration, whether water-related or heritage-related.
What is your take on the quality of restoration work being done currently on stepwells which were long neglected? Are there aspects which are being overlooked?
This is a tricky question with many different answers. The quality of restoration varies from exceptional to dismal, and all points in between. I’ve seen the results of so many well-intentioned attempts and cannot make any blanket statement about who has done a fantastic job or a terrible job, be it a government restoration, a local restoration, or a public-private restoration. It is really on a case-by-case basis. Certainly, the ASI has done some wonderful work, as have a number of dedicated NGOs like INTACH and the Aga Khan Trust, to name just a few. But there are also examples where local governments or public-private initiatives have actually made things worse. I’d rather not point to specific examples, and remember, I’m not a professional in this field whatsoever, just an educated observer!
The last part of your question—aspects that are being overlooked…my feelings about this have changed a lot over the past six years. I think the most important aspect that is often overlooked is simply whether or not a community cares about restoration in the first place. Often, they are not even consulted and may not care a whit. As mentioned above, it is imperative to have the community on board as custodians after the restoration is complete. There are cases where a lot of money and time have been squandered when, after a year, the stepwell reverts to its former condition, rife with garbage.
What are some of the little-known facts about Indian stepwells which have been discussed in your book?
I could make a case that (particularly - but not always – outside India) everything is a little-known fact, since the very existence of stepwells isn’t known! But when audiences are knowledgeable about them, as at universities or heritage organisations, it is often the multi-functional nature of stepwells that can be surprising, and also that there are so many stylistic and regional variations. There’s one more thing that audiences don’t expect, which is the prevalence of stepwells throughout the country, not just in dry western states like Rajasthan, Gujarat, and Haryana. Of the approximately 200 I’ve visited, many are in Madhya Pradesh, Uttar Pradesh, Telangana…the list goes on.
What was the most enduring challenge of producing this sumptuous book?
The “before and after” have been—and continue to be—most challenging. I spent six arduous years working in obscurity, generally alone, travelling throughout the country and having no success when I pitched articles or lectures. It was so upsetting, I nearly gave up on stepwells. Then, this miraculous and gorgeous book was produced, completely unexpectedly, and yet it’s nearly unavailable in India. It wasn’t present at the Jaipur Lit Fest when I spoke there and has apparently been difficult to procure by any of the many venues I have spoken at. That’s driven me mad, and I fervently hope I’ll be able to produce a smaller, less costly edition aimed specifically at the Indian audience, to whom I feel deeply indebted.