Houses hold stories in their walls — of family meals, getting homework done, friends visiting, scribbles on the walls, and the inevitable quarrels. There is a great sense of loss as buildings are pulled down. It is as if lives are sent to some no man’s land, to exist as shadows, soon to be dismissed as fanciful imagination.

Watching homes tumble like flimsy cardboard structures in the recent flash floods across the world was a shocking reminder of the vulnerability of man’s claim on the earth. Family albums, carefully collected furniture and favourite clothes are turned into muddy rubble. Wars and natural disasters are seen as forces beyond the control of people. Some homes are abandoned as families disperse; some are erased by developers who only see property value instead of cherished homes.

Karachi’s streets are being stripped of their history. Karachi was ‘the Dubai’ of the late 19th century, for the most part — bare sandy tracts upon which architects, supported by local Silawat builders, could experiment with architectural styles such as Venetian Gothic, Indo Saracenic, Art Deco and, later on, 1960s’ modernism.

Walking or driving through the inner city of Karachi, exquisite buildings of a past are sandwiched between thoughtlessly constructed concrete buildings. Yet, one’s eyes are transfixed on these quiet sentinels of a graceful past. Who stood in their balconies, their spacious verandas, climbed their teak staircases? What did they view on the streets below?

From Venetian Gothic to Art Deco, Karachi once wore its architecture like a crown. Today, that crown is being traded for boxy towers and soulless facades

What was Jayashankar Madhawji’s life like in the house designed by M. Nazareth on plot No 34 and 34/ A in Market Quarter? Or that of Noorbhoy Jafferji, who lived up the road at No 81, in a house designed by Jamsedji P. Mistry? What parties were held in the beautiful residence on 82 Bunder Road, with its romantic grapevine carvings?

While the buildings fall like ninepins under the demolition squad, the streets still bear witness to Karachi’s eclectic population. In just one area of Ranchore Lines, Solomon David Road, Ali Budha Street, Shivdas Street, Vishan Das Street, Mir Ayub Khan Road and Kalyan Jee Street are bounded by Nabi Bux Road and Barnes Street.

Cities are always changing and growing, facing increasing pressure to provide new housing and business centres. While Karachi’s town planners develop layouts of streets and zoning, and the Building Control Authority is tasked to ensure the engineering soundness and space usage of new constructions, there seems to be no attention paid to the aesthetic integration of the old and the new.

Developers, calculator in hand, are determined to ensure the maximum sellable covered area, arriving at box-like structures built with the cheapest materials in the shortest possible time. There is no room for the graceful arched verandas of Mohatta Goods Godown on Mission Road, or the exquisite detailing of the Mohammad Ali Building in Moosa Lane.

It is not simply nostalgia for the past. A study by environmental psychologist Colin Ellard revealed that monolithic, dull facades found on modern skyscrapers and apartment blocks were found to cause stress to passers-by and inhabitants. These are not buildings that encourage intimacy, a sense of belonging and pride. The anonymous sameness devalues inhabitants, who scurry up and down dark uneven stairs to get to their box-like offices or homes.

Preservation and revitalisation of heritage localities plays a large part in cultural resilience. It is a way of being cradled by previous generations and an inspiration to carry the story forward.

Trader Seth Bhojomal saw Karachi’s potential in 1729 and the East India Company administrator, Charles Napier, believed it could be the star of the East. Mayor Jamshed Nusserwanji Mehta ensured it became the cleanest city of Asia.

The old city, approximately 50 square km, a fraction of the larger 3,780 square km area of Karachi, is waiting for loving attention. Many organisations and individuals have done their best to highlight and protect Karachi’s heritage. NED University’s Heritage Cell, the architect Arif Hasan, Yasmin Lari’s Heritage Foundation, the architect Marvi Mazhar, heritage walkers Shaheen Nauman, Jehanzeb Salim of Super Savari Express, Farooq Soomro, The Karachi Walla, and countless researchers and photographers have worked tirelessly to protect the 1,700 declared heritage buildings. The Sindh Cultural Heritage Preservation Act was passed in 1994. Yet, they all seem helpless before the juggernaut of developers and the land mafia.

A new directive has been issued by the Chief Minister of Sindh, Murad Ali Shah, to assess the condition of listed buildings in the city. There is no conversation about setting up engineering teams to specialise in their restoration, instead of delisting and demolishment. European heritage buildings destroyed during World War II were reconstructed from existing plans. Today, new technologies, such as LiDAR scanning, can document heritage buildings in great detail and pave the way for the true preservation of Karachi’s heritage.

Durriya Kazi is a Karachi-based artist.
She may be reached at
durriyakazi1918@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, EOS, August 17th, 2025