Kothis, Kitschy Fonts, and Kitchen Gardens: Aesthetic Evolution of the Chandigarh Homes

When India gained independence in 1947, the nation faced not only the challenge of political self-determination but also a need to visually and spatially represent its modern aspirations. Chandigarh was born out of this need—a purpose-built city that would reflect a new era, one unburdened by colonial pasts. Envisioned as the new capital of Punjab, the city was an ambitious project commissioned by then-Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, who hoped it would stand as a model for a forward-looking India.

To bring this vision to life, the government turned to Le Corbusier, a Swiss-French architect celebrated for his radical modernist philosophy. He and his cousin Pierre Jeanneret and British collaborators Maxwell Fry and Jane Drew reimagined Chandigarh as a living example of urban efficiency and human-centric planning. Le Corbusier famously described his dream as a “city of trees and water, of houses like those of Homeric times, punctuated by a few grand structures of modern design.” This ethos guided every detail—from the grid-based sector layout to the deliberate separation of pedestrian and vehicle pathways, ensuring order, accessibility, and harmony with nature.

The Emotional Geography of Chandigarh Homes

Chandigarh stands out in India’s architectural story because of its nuanced adaptation of modernism to suit Indian realities. The Capitol Complex, now recognised as a UNESCO World Heritage Site, encapsulates this fusion. Consisting of monumental buildings like the Secretariat, High Court, and Legislative Assembly, the complex utilises raw concrete, sharp lines, and climate-responsive elements like perforated façades (brise-soleil) that marry aesthetic with utility. Towering above it all is the Open Hand Monument—Le Corbusier’s emblem of peace, unity, and generosity—offering a visual reminder of the democratic ideals the city was meant to embody.

Yet Chandigarh’s architectural charm is not confined to its civic landmarks. Its residential quarters tell an equally compelling story. The homes—typically low-rise with exposed brick exteriors, internal courtyards, and ample greenery—echo the modernist spirit while also embracing Indian sensibilities. These homes are designed not just to house, but to breathe. They create a sense of openness and continuity between inside and out, allowing residents to live in tune with their environment.

In a nation where urban spaces often tilt toward congestion and overdevelopment, Chandigarh remains a rare experiment in balance between modernity and tradition, design and daily life. The city continues to influence contemporary architects and planners, serving as both a historical landmark and a living laboratory of functional, human-scaled urbanism.

Kothis and Corner Plots: The Spatial Privilege of Chandigarh Homes

In Chandigarh, the iconic kothis—spacious, often double-storey homes—are either inherited as ancestral properties or purchased by newer, affluent residents drawn to the city’s unique charm. These homes typically sit on generous plots, a legacy of the city’s original master plan. “You’ll always find 5 gaj (yard) in the front and 5 gaj in the back,” laughs Annu, a long-time resident. “But if it’s a corner plot? Bas, you’ve hit the jackpot. You get a side garden too—and that’s why corner plots are the most expensive. Everyone wants one.” This thoughtful spatial generosity, rare in most Indian cities today, gives each home not just breathing space, but character.

The gardens, far from ornamental, are a deeply cherished part of life in Chandigarh. They serve as morning havens for tea, as play areas for children, as impromptu party venues, and sometimes even as extensions of kitchens, growing curry leaves, tulsi, or seasonal vegetables. These home gardens echo the city’s broader green aesthetic—tree-lined boulevards, public parks, and Le Corbusier’s vision of a “city in a garden.” In a place where architecture meets atmosphere, Chandigarh’s private gardens stand as living proof that nature isn’t just an accessory—it’s essential.

Design is Personal: Chandigarh’s Homes as Handmade Aesthetic Statements

“There’s no interior designer here—we are the designers,” says Mr. Bedi from Sector 21, proudly pointing to the geometric tiles in his driveway. And that sentiment isn’t unique. Across Chandigarh, homeowners take an active role in shaping the aesthetics of their homes, right from the blueprint to the bathroom fittings. It’s common for families to make multiple trips to tile vendors, hunting for the perfect texture and shade, debating between subtle patterns or loud terrazzo, matte or gloss, off-white or cream. "Even the smallest details—mirror frames, door knobs, curtain rods—are handpicked, often after long discussions and family consensus,"  adds Annu, "so far so that I personally travel to outskirts and hunt down the perfect tiles, cheap labour and personally get them in my car and get my house made into a home."

Step into a typical Chandigarh kothi, and you’ll find gardens with jhulas (swings) tucked under mango trees, small fountains trickling near flower beds, and hand-painted nameplates that reflect not just taste, but pride. The garden isn’t an afterthought—it’s the heart of the home. It’s where children play cricket with cousins, where grandparents sit for their morning chai, and where evenings wind down under dim porch lights. These elements aren’t just functional; they’re emotional fixtures. A swing might mark a child’s growing years, while a row of rose bushes might be a living memory of a late parent’s favourite flower.

Inside the homes, designs are a blend of utilitarian sensibility and personal quirks. Spacious front verandahs flow into high-ceilinged living rooms, and modular kitchens sit next to pooja corners adorned with brass bells and incense holders. Many homes still retain terrazzo flooring or cemented skirtings with a distinctive ‘Chandigarh touch’, passed down from older generations. There's often a mix of old and new—an antique sideboard inherited from grandparents stands beside a newly installed glass dining table, blending memory with modernity.

The emotional attachment to these homes runs deep. It’s not unusual to hear stories of families refusing to sell a corner plot or rebuilding a kothi with the same layout simply because “that’s how Papa liked it.” In Chandigarh, homes are not just real estate—they're archives of personal and familial history. Every mosaic tile, every potted plant, and every custom-built swing speaks to a culture of care, attention, and rootedness that makes the city’s residential aesthetic so uniquely heartfelt.

Coming Home: How Chandigarh’s Architecture Keeps Families Close

Chandigarh has long been a city of dreams and departures. Many young people leave their tree-lined sectors for higher studies, jobs, or new adventures in bigger metros or abroad. But what pulls them back, year after year, is not just nostalgia, but the architecture itself. These sprawling kothis, with their airy verandahs and sun-drenched gardens, carry the weight of memory. “I left for Delhi when I was 18,” says Avni, now 24, pursuing her master’s in London. “But every time I come back for vacations, my room is just the same—my bookshelf, my posters, even the fairy lights from school. It feels like I never left.” The homes hold space for their people, quite literally.

It’s not uncommon for three generations to live under one roof in Chandigarh, with grandparents upstairs, the parents in the main wing, and a sibling or cousin occupying the back extension. These homes are capacious enough to hold the complexity of family life—privacy and proximity, tradition and modernity. There's a rhythm to it: the clinking of cups in the morning, the rustle of newspapers, kids cycling in the lane, and the faint music of an old radio drifting from one of the rooms. Sometimes, it feels straight out of a Netflix movie—the kind that makes you want to pause and soak it all in.

In Chandigarh, architecture isn’t just about form or function—it’s about feeling. These homes don’t just house people; they anchor them. Whether it's the jhula in the garden, the echo of footsteps in a tiled corridor, or a child’s room left untouched for their return, Chandigarh’s homes are stories in concrete and care, keeping families close no matter how far they may wander.