Nov. 10-25
A conversation with Principal Architect at STHAPATI about the firm’s work, the layered identity of Indian design, the evolving ethos of sustainability, and creating spaces that connect people, place, and purpose.
As part of our Indian Design in Focus series, we next speak with Khushboo Bansal, Principal Architect at STHAPATI, a multidisciplinary practice known for its context-driven and community-focused architecture, headquartered in New Delhi and Lucknow. With experience spanning institutional, residential, corporate, and hospitality sectors, Khushboo has led major projects including the National School of Drama, Income Tax Headquarters, and Maharishi Valmiki International Airport in Ayodhya, as well as urban mobility initiatives across India.
Her design approach integrates sustainability with a deep sensitivity to materiality and context—creating spaces that are intuitive, immersive, and enduring. At STHAPATI, this philosophy extends to a broader ethos of cultural integration and global collaboration, where each project seeks to strengthen the relationship between people, nature, and the built environment.
We spoke with Khushboo Bansal about her perspective on the uniqueness of Indian design, sustainability as a guiding ethos, how context shapes architecture that endures, and more.
Indian design is defined by its ability to absorb complexity while still creating a sense of belonging. Our culture is layered with rituals, climates, materials, and ways of living that are never linear.
Unlike many global styles that emphasise purity or reduction, Indian design thrives in negotiation, whether it’s between tradition and modernity, density and openness, or the individual and collective. At STHAPATI, this is what we strive to bring to life through our projects, too, by keeping them contextual, adaptive, and grounded in the everyday rhythms of Indian life.
Traditional Indian design teaches us resilience through simplicity. Passive cooling, shaded verandas, or the use of local stone are all solutions that carry centuries of wisdom. These principles continue to influence my approach, not as nostalgia but as frameworks that can be reinterpreted for contemporary needs.
Indian design is defined by its ability to absorb complexity while still creating a sense of belonging.
For example, in the design of the National School of Drama in New Delhi, we explored how light could become an active agent in shaping experience. The triple-height Light Boxes reinterpret the openness of traditional courtyards in a vertical format, allowing natural light to animate spaces while also reducing energy dependence. Similarly, at Ayodhya Airport, and now at Jodhpur Airport, which is nearing completion, we integrated cultural motifs of the region into high-performance terminals so that modern infrastructure continues to carry the memory of place.
I see these qualities as deeply interconnected rather than separate checkboxes. When a space anticipates how you move, pause, or gather, it will naturally feel intuitive. When its materials, light, and proportions create an atmosphere you can almost sense before you consciously notice it, and it becomes immersive. And when these gestures are grounded in context rather than trend, the design gains a quiet endurance.
In large-scale housing projects, such as Serenity Grove in Bengaluru, this may appear as planned circulation that gently guides people towards shared courtyards, where community life can unfold.
In aviation infrastructure projects, such as the Jodhpur Airport project, the focus shifts to designing an arrival experience that allows the city to be felt from the very first step. What stays consistent is a vision to create places that encourage people to build lasting relationships with their surroundings.
I hesitate to call them trends because that word feels fleeting. What I find compelling is how sustainability is moving from being a set of requirements to becoming an embedded ethos in most practices. In India, this feels less like something new and more like a return to what we have always known.
What I find compelling is how sustainability is moving from being a set of requirements to becoming an embedded ethos in most practices.
Historically, our building traditions have always aligned closely with nature, whether by using local materials or planning spaces in response to local climates. Today, beyond certifications or net-zero goals, there is a growing accountability, both from the public and within the profession, to design in ways that are responsible and lasting.
This shift, in turn, is fueling some of the most exciting innovations in Indian architecture, where designers are experimenting with materials, energy systems, and building typologies that respond to their context in imaginative ways.
I value both clarity and freedom, but it’s less about choosing one and more about how they interact. A clear brief helps define priorities and constraints, while creative freedom allows ideas to evolve beyond the obvious. In one of our recently completed urban housing projects, Golf Homes and Kingswood in Greater Noida, strict limits around site density and circulation shaped the overall form.
But within those constraints, we explored how residents might naturally move through courtyards, access shared green spaces, and enjoy visual connections to the city skyline. A successful project is rarely about following the brief in isolation. It’s about evolving it through dialogue with the client, the site, and the wider context, so that the outcome feels grounded yet open to possibility.
There is definitely a gap between academic training and the realities of professional practice. Students are often trained to think in terms of objects or isolated buildings, whereas the realities of practice demand systemic thinking. Housing, infrastructure, and public spaces cannot be designed in silos. At STHAPATI, we involve young architects directly in live projects, exposing them to constraints ranging from budgets to site conditions, so they learn to balance creativity with pragmatism.
The challenge is that markets are evolving rapidly, and building technologies are advancing just as quickly, while education struggles to keep pace.
The education system should aim to respond as directly to market needs and trajectories as possible. The challenge is that markets are evolving rapidly, and building technologies are advancing just as quickly, while education struggles to keep pace. This lag creates a disconnect that young designers struggle to bridge once they step into practice.
Golf Homes and Kingswood, Greater Noida.
It was about balancing density with life. This project’s challenge was to accommodate more than 6,000 homes while preserving nearly 80% of the site as open landscape. Through large ‘urban windows’, shared courtyards, and community gardens, we created spaces that invite social interaction without compromising privacy. Seeing residents engage across generations, from children playing in parks to neighbours gathering in podium gardens, reminded me that housing is most successful when it fosters community, resilience, and a sense of belonging.
Maharishi Valmiki International Airport, Ayodhya
This was a project where infrastructure became a form of storytelling. The two-storeyed terminal, designed for 150 arrivals and departures at once, needed to accommodate growing pilgrimage and tourism demands while remaining deeply connected to the city’s heritage. Through elevational elements that reflect Ayodhya’s history, careful spatial planning, and sustainable design strategies earning a GRIHA 4-Star rating, the airport transforms the act of travel into an experience that is both functional and culturally immersive.
The National School of Drama in New Delhi
This project challenged us to rethink how an educational building can nurture creativity. As the first high-rise campus in India dedicated to Theatre Studies, it integrates triple-height ‘light boxes’ and modular rehearsal spaces that shape circulation, daylight, and interaction. The design aimed to evoke a spirit of experimentation and adaptability, ensuring that both students and faculty have spaces that respond intuitively to their work.
What defines Indian design isn’t one object or building, but its sheer variety. From stone temples to bamboo homes and stepwells to courtyard houses, the richness lies in the diversity of materials, techniques, and planning ideologies that coexist. Anyone visiting for the first time should experience this multiplicity, because it tells the real story of how Indian design has always thrived on adaptation.
Not a single designer, but I am continuously inspired by and would love to continue collaborating with more craft communities and local artisans across different parts of India. They are as much designers as any of us, translating inherited knowledge into forms that still speak to today’s needs.
I often find myself unexpectedly inspired by public spaces and streets in Indian cities. Observing how people move, gather, and interact can teach you a lot about how spaces are truly lived.
To learn more, visit sthapatiindia.org
All images provided by STHAPATI.
