A Home in Bengaluru Where the Light Dictates the Rhythm of Being

There is a specific kind of light that hits a house when it is designed to face the sunrise. It isn’t the harsh, blinding glare of midday, but a soft, golden intrusion that makes the stone floors feel warm before you’ve even stepped on them. At Sharada, this morning light is the most important inhabitant. “Every day, we wake up looking at the sunrise, because our home invites the east light deep inside the spaces. Therefore, we wake up fully charged,” rejoices Kukke Subramaniya, the principal architect of Kukke Architects and homeowner of Sharada.

Designing for oneself is often a fraught exercise in overthinking. For Kukke, the architect, the process was further sharpened by the global pause of the pandemic. It forced a reckoning with the "closed box" model of contemporary residential life. The resulting 4,000-square-foot build rejects the idea of the home as an inward sanctuary. Instead, it looks outward, reaching for the canopy of trees that defines the neighborhood and seeking a visual dialogue with the surrounding greenery.

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The entrance is a sharp departure from the anonymous, slick portals that define much of modern urban design. Embedded within the main door are fragments of stained glass that carry a weight far beyond their aesthetic value; they were salvaged and collected by the architect’s father during his tenure in the Indian Railways.

The Kitchen as the Social Protagonist

While the ground floor is dedicated to the pragmatism of services and a multipurpose space for Kukke’s wife for music classes, the true heart of the home beats one level up. By elevating the primary living zones to the first floor, the design clears the noise of the street and settles into the trees.

In many households, the kitchen is a backroom operation—a place of hidden utility. At Sharada, the kitchen is the protagonist. Positioned to catch the first light of the east, it is centered around a dining table where the family spends the majority of their time. They are a family that finds joy in cooking, and the space reflects this. It is a room meant for lingering, flowing directly into a northeast terrace. This social porch creates a seamless transition where the indoors and outdoors lose their boundaries. It is here, over the steam of coffee and the backdrop of the neighbors' trees, that the family gathers to connect.

Sculpting with Fire and Earth

If the first floor is the heart, the fire-brick vaults are the soul of the residence. These arches run east-west, creating a sense of volume that makes the compact plot feel limitless. The patterned brickwork on the ceiling adds a tactile, rustic rhythm, acting as a warm counterpoint to the cool granite and the rich, earthy Mandana red stone underfoot. These vaults do more than frame the space; their curved outer surfaces are cleverly designed as planters, holding a layer of greenery that insulates the structure while softening its silhouette against the sky.

Privacy is not achieved through high walls or heavy drapes, but through a living veil. Along the eastern facade, concrete pots are integrated, cradling a twenty-five-year-old passion for orchids. It is a sensory barrier—the street remains visible through the leaves, the breeze is felt, and the scent of damp earth persists, yet the world outside is kept at a respectful distance.

A Reservoir for Reflection

As the house ascends, the atmosphere shifts from social to solitary. The upper floors house the bedrooms, each connected to a terrace, ensuring that the sky is never more than a few steps away. The library, however, is where the architect’s creativity finds its focus. It is a room of extreme precision—custom-made drawers for stationery, hidden racks that disappear into the walls, and a desk positioned to capture the quietest hours of the day.

The library opens onto an open-to-sky court. In the center sits a fish pond, its surface broken only by the shadow of a tree. The sound of the water acts as a natural acoustic buffer, transforming the library into a contemplative core. It is a space designed for the slow consumption of books and the observation of clouds moving across the Bengaluru sky.

The Architecture of the Present

The home also functions as a lesson in passive climate control. A west-facing skylight acts as a thermal chimney, drawing rising hot air up and out, which in turn pulls cooler air through the lower levels. On the western side, where the afternoon sun is most aggressive, wardrobes and deep-recessed windows act as thermal buffers, thus negotiating the climate with architecture. The materiality throughout is a conversation between different eras. Much of the furniture is crafted from recycled timber salvaged from a 150-year-old house in Coorg. Placed strategically throughout the rooms are bronze sculptures, a family collection built over decades. 

In an era where architecture is often judged by its ability to make a grand statement, Sharada is a reminder of the power of the present moment. It is not about a specific style, but about the way the light hits a kitchen table, the sound of a fish pond in a quiet library, and a door that holds the memory of a father’s career, and every other emotion it carries. It is a home that chooses to be a place where the family and the environment become one. One does not just inhabit this house; one lives within the trees, the light, and the history of the materials themselves.