Lost in Translation: The Misinterpretation of Vastu

Not too long ago, I embarked on a house-hunting journey armed with my list of priorities. As I toured a property with a realtor, he beamed with enthusiasm, exclaiming, “100% Vastu-compliant, Mem ji! All the previous tenants had prospered because of the Vastu of the place.” His words hung in the air like a spell, promising prosperity and harmony. Yet, as I stepped inside this so-called haven of harmony, I found myself wishing fervently that Vastu compliance extended beyond mere directional alignment.

While the entrance proudly occupied the northeast corner and the kitchen snugly fit into the southeast, the essence of liveability was glaringly absent. The living room, cramped and chaotic with doors leading to various rooms, felt more like a transit hub than a welcoming space.

Natural light? A luxury here. And the bedrooms, with their peek-a-boo windows into neighbouring walls, felt claustrophobic and intrusive.

As an architect, I couldn’t help but wonder: why this fixation on cardinal directions? Was it rooted in a fear of bad luck, a blind adherence to tradition? In a world where sunlight and ventilation should be fundamental, it felt like the art of Vastu had devolved into a ritual devoid of reason. What was once a local guide for construction seemed to have transformed into an obsession, side-lining the very principles that could create a truly liveable space...

vastu purusha mandala

Today, the traditional principles of Vastu elicit a wide range of reactions, from curiosity to apprehension. The architect in me is intrigued by how these principles often lead clients to compromise on quality and the logical flow of spaces. At the same time, I am apprehensive about the trend of rigidly adhering to guidelines that were created many millennia ago—documents intended as manuals for construction (in accordance with the region and its climate) rather than "sacred traditions to be strictly followed".

The resurgence of Vastu today is a complex cultural and sociological phenomenon. One explanation may be its convenience as a scapegoat for personal failures. In Indian culture, blind faith often escalates to epidemic proportions. The fear-mongering proponents of this "science" (aka vastu shastris), armed with theories built on false assumptions and substituting fallacious arguments for logic, exacerbate the situation. Moreover, some ardent believers, without fully understanding or questioning the relevance of guidelines established for a particular era, blindly place their faith in the purported implications of Vastu on health and well-being. In doing so, they risk falling victim to the same fate as the blind men in the famous parable, each grasping a different part of the elephant and forming a distorted perception of the whole.

How can principles established for town planning and construction 5,000 years ago seamlessly fit into today’s society?

My concern isn’t about questioning the ingenious wisdom of the bygone era; rather, it’s about how we can adapt those principles to our current context. While the foundational ideas of Vastu may hold value, we must critically assess their applicability in a vastly different world.

Lessons in History of India Town Planning and Architecture

1 | dandaka 2 | prastara 3 | chaturmukha

The early cities of the Indus Valley Civilization were meticulously planned and constructed according to precise principles that aligned the microcosm of human dwellings with the larger cosmos.

Vastu, rooted in the principles of "Desa-kala-patra" (Time, Place, and Circumstance), was conceived as a framework for entire societies, where every colony and city would be planned in accordance with Vastu principles. In the absence of modern urban planning authorities and building regulations, Vastu offered a comprehensive guide for city development and community living.

Mirroring the direction of flow of the rivers, the main streets of these cities ran north-south. The Aryans, who migrated from the northwest, settled on the western banks of the rivers. Consequently, the cities were also built to the west of the rivers, ensuring that they were located on land that sloped eastward towards the river. This orientation allowed the entrances of homes and public buildings to face east. Kitchens were in a leeward direction to effectively expel cooking smoke, a practical consideration in accordance with movement of air and sun, in a time before modern ventilation systems like exhaust fans and chimneys.

Now, to claim that an entrance facing any other direction, or a water body in the west, is inherently unlucky is a gross generalization and misinterpretation of the ancient wisdom rooted in logic.

Did Mumbai, with the Arabian Sea to its west, become the financial capital of India due to its bad luck? Conversely, why couldn't Vastu compliance shield many temples from being pillaged by invaders? Moreover, is there any logical basis for assigning specific directions for laying out spaces within our homes when our cities themselves are often laid out in an arbitrary fashion?

Another example of the ritualistic approach is the recommendation that the southwest side of a house should be heavier and higher for welfare and prosperity. However, the rationale behind this suggestion can be traced back to historical and environmental factors. In hotter regions of southern and northwestern India, houses were traditionally built with courtyards. Due to the lower angle of sunrise in the northeast, the northeast section of the house was kept lower to allow comfortable morning sunlight into the courtyard. Conversely, the southwest side was built higher to cast a shadow and provide protection from the hot afternoon sun. This architectural feature, rooted in environmental considerations, has been distorted by pundits. Increasing the height of an interior enclosed space by a few inches is nothing more than blind faith masquerading as Vastu.

The essence of Vastu lies in harnessing the benefits of the natural environment, including surrounding factors, light, and ventilation. Therefore, the application of directional principles at the physical level must be adapted to the specific geographical location and prevailing climatic conditions. This is also why Vastu Shastra encompasses many versions; it was never intended to be a single, binding rulebook.

Vastu has become a trend among high society, with many people remodeling their homes and making significant changes for Vastu-related reasons. While true believers may find some logic in many of these suggestions, it’s hard to justify claims that robberies can occur simply because a bathroom faces a certain direction. Maybe, if one vehemently claims their house is Vastu compliant and prominently displays a placard stating the same, it might serve as a psychological deterrent to potential thieves, convincing them that the property is guarded by a particularly grumpy ghost or an angry deity.

Architects study a wide range of subjects, and the culmination of their knowledge over five years of their study can easily be dismissed by Vastu practitioners, many of whom may not even understand the difference between a column and a beam. Yet, these individuals advise on entire structures, even townships. Unfortunately, there are no regulations governing propagation of Vastu, but their actions should fall under the purview of the Consumer Protection Act.

No Vastu can ever guarantee one peace, happiness or success. No Vastu Pundit can predict one's future based on orientation of spaces.

Many of the principles stated in Vastu were originally developed as general guidelines for people without access to architects. These theories aimed to ensure that, regardless of a person's architectural knowledge, basic standards of safety and welfare were met. They were not intended to be a guaranteed ticket to fortune or success.

What we need is a healthy scepticism towards our beliefs, and superstitions, not a renewed faith in such arcane belief systems. We must embrace science, question superstition, and cultivate rational thought. Most of what is practiced as Vastu today, can only stifle creativity by imposing poorly understood rules and bring occultism back into our lives. These methods are often based on subjective interpretations that are presented as definitive truths, without allowing for independent verification by the common man.