A CITY’s architectural heritage and trends are like a concrete, living, breathing and tactile history, one that is beyond the history written in its annals and chronicles.

Moving through Karachi and its varied parts and taking note of the contrasts they offer is like a ride in a time machine that takes you back and forth through the decades.

The city seems to contain three different vistas or strands. There are the old buildings of Saddar ranging back as early as the 1800s, with their gothic and renaissance imprints. It’s a place that would never lose its charm for the romantics and the nostalgics, despite the decay it has experienced.

Then there is the modern and upbeat architecture of posh bungalows, high-rises — the utilitarian, spatial architecture. These houses keep on being torn down, refurbished, rebuilt and upgraded by the inhabitants to better accommodate the growing needs of the urban megalopolis.

Karachi, just like any other fast-paced city around the world, has grown horizontally and then vertically, leading to high-rises, mega-projects and sprawling housing schemes. But have you noticed those forlorn and seemingly quiet single-storey houses, dwarfed and almost half-hidden amidst the snazzy and swanky modern bungalows and high-rises?

This is the retro architecture, the houses stuck somewhere in the 1980s or even 1970s, in stark contrast to the neighbouring houses, which tend to have moved on to another time, zone and space altogether by keeping up with the trend of continuously refurbishing, redesigning and remodelling their living space, despite the pricey renovation costs.

Meanwhile, the buildings stuck in the retro era somehow have managed to remain unchanged and untouched throughout the decades, just like a nugget of mysterious history, a jagged end amidst a sea of change. Perhaps they are just showing their age, the weariness of their owners and lack of financial means to give their space the luxury of facelift. These living spaces at times look like people who have slowed down, feel battle-weary and have been unable to keep up with the fast-paced, frantic, ever-changing nature of urban life.

A certain weariness and sombreness hangs on the walls. Clothes on washing lines are sparsely visible; children and toys seem hidden; car porches are empty; even creepers and plants seem bereft of freshness and vitality. It seems as if the inhabitants have made a pact with silence. If only the walls could talk, they would have tales to tell! One wonders what stories would they tell: stories of empty nests perhaps, or immigration to lands of affluence and security; lack of means and interest perhaps?

The old architecture has shown some degree of perseverance, even in the face of decay. Yet the fate of these buildings hangs in the balance. Not everything can be preserved, especially in a society where houses are erected even upon nullahs and katchi abadis are abundant, which in turn evolve into fully-fledged, permanent settlements.

On one hand the retro architecture is showing decay and neglect, or perhaps just its age. It’s only a matter of time before these structures are bought or sold by profit-hungry builders, torn down and turned into condominiums or malls. On the other hand modern urban architecture is ever-evolving and thriving.

A city’s architecture bears testimony to its progress, or the lack of it. Architecture is not just about space but about how people use this space. It shapes the experiences they have had and those their coming generations will ultimately have.