The true heart of the Indian home: the aangan

It now lives on in books and film, but the courtyard was where we cooked, celebrated, slept under the stars on summer nights

Sometimes, all it takes to trigger powerful memories is a song. I was listening (yet again) to one of Gulzar’s most evocative and unforgettable numbers. It’s from his 1975 film Mausam, and it goes Dil dhoondta hai / phir wahi fursat ke raat din. I paused at the lines “Jaadon ki narm dhoop / Aur aangan mein let kar”.

It was as if a switch had flipped and I was immediately transported to the aangan of my nani’s house in Kanpur, where I went for my winter and summer holidays. To the mungaudis drying in the sun on a white sheet, a somnolent cousin getting her hair oiled in one corner, another cousin lying on a khatiya, allegedly reading a magazine but more likely simply dozing in the golden dhoop; a gaggle of gossiping aunts wrapped in shawls eating freshly roasted peanuts or cutting slices of firm green guava and sprinkling them with kaala namak before popping them into their mouths.

The aangan or central courtyard — a paved space, open to the sky, with rooms all around —is as old as the Indus Valley Civilisation and was a fixture in homes in the subcontinent for centuries, till the Western-style modern house took over with the establishment of British rule.

The aangan allowed for air and ventilation and gave the household a private, open-air living area that became the nerve centre of the home, connecting the indoors with the outdoors. The kitchen was attached, along with a storeroom. I remember that room well — it was temptingly lined with containers full of delicious savoury snacks and big jars of pickles.

The cooking process — cutting vegetables, sifting daal and rice — took place in the aangan. There was often a tap in one corner, with a small hauz (water tank) next to it, and you could bathe there in the hot weather. (I remember prolonged hair-washing sessions after we were done playing Holi.) Sometimes, there were flowerbeds along the edges.

People slept in rows under the stars here on summer nights — after the courtyard had been liberally sprinkled with water, to cool the air. Pedestal fans lazily stirred the mosquito nets that swathed each cot. In winter, the courtyard hummed with activity during the day, when it was bathed in comforting sunshine.

The aangan has been the backdrop of countless scenes of family life in movies and books — from the women of the family lovingly tending their tulsi plant (a 1978 film was even called Main Tulsi Tere Aangan Ki) to the entire household gathering there for