With Ravi’s reclamation of the land, which was once rightfully its own, Lahore is once again haunted by a flood crisis reminiscent of 2010. The displacement of hundreds of thousands of families, the blockage of roads, the crisis inflicted upon our agricultural sector, and the collapse of numerous houses blare an alarm citywide: is this still the response to climatic disasters in the twenty-first century?
When one sits to comprehend this, an eleventh-century building comes into view. Despite being centuries old, Lahore Fort, located in the northwest of the Walled City of Lahore, continues to stand as an adamant foundation, using its walls to protect the history that millions of us resonate with.
This UNESCO World Heritage Site is not just worthy of awe for its grandeur and exquisite history, but also for the story that lies beyond its surface. Within the walls of Lahore Fort lies an intricate web of mechanisms that protect these dated artefacts from Lahore's harsh and unpredictable climate.
Upon close inspection, the temperature and humidity sensors, located both within and outside the glass cases, provide extensive data records of climatic and microclimatic conditions within these areas, supporting better preservation.
All wonderful incorporations, but done later; what really is shocking is the centuries-old sustainability and drainage systems already installed in this Fort that continue to hold up from time to time, serving as an example of ‘if we can, so can you.’
The lining of the pool walls and surfaces was done with lime-based plaster because of its hygroscopic properties, which absorb humidity and help maintain cooler temperatures. Moreover, lime plaster is made by heating limestone to produce quicklime, which is then slaked with water.
Modern urban planning has done the exact opposite of traditional architecture, which once used elevated plinths, courtyards for absorption, and porous materials that allowed the ground to breathe, working with natural water flows
When applied to walls, it gradually absorbs carbon dioxide from the air during a process called carbonation, turning back into stable limestone. This makes lime ‘carbon-capturing’ to an extent: it slowly reabsorbs some of the carbon dioxide released during its manufacture, adding a further step to the idea of well-thought-out and planned incorporation of sustainability in these structures.
Shah Jahan’s quadrangle alone is yet another clear example of how the Mughals combined the aesthetic of architecture with unmatched engineering. The fountain’s location right in the middle of the garden acts as a natural cooling system for the entire garden.
Water is considered extremely important in Mughal architecture, both for its scenic beauty and for modifying internal environmental temperatures. The Fort’s pools and fountains also doubled as water-conservation devices; they captured, stored, and circulated river water from the Ravi through channels and basins, a pre-modern form of rain and river-water harvesting.
Moreover, archaeological work conducted in 2020 reveals a four-hundred-year-old drainage system accompanied by dual-purpose tunnels that serve as both drainage systems and secret passages, including the much-visited Royal Hammam, all of which feel painfully relevant as Lahore once again battles with monsoon floods.
Nowadays, in cities, we observe a fixation on the construction of massive concrete buildings that are not in harmony with the ecology of our climate. Instead of courtyards, verandas, or jharokas that encouraged ventilation and passive cooling, the buildings now rely on sealed interiors, artificial lighting, and powerful air conditioning.
These systems worsen the urban heat island effect and consume excessive amounts of energy. Traditional materials like wood, brick, and lime plaster have been replaced by steel and concrete, which have high embodied carbon costs and poor insulating properties.
This change has harmed the city's social cohesion in addition to being environmentally inefficient; the public squares and shaded streets that once promoted neighbourly interaction have been lost.
Lahore is becoming increasingly vulnerable to floods due to the disregard for climate-responsive design. Modern urban planning has done the exact opposite of traditional architecture, which once used elevated plinths, courtyards for absorption, and porous materials that allowed the ground to breathe, working with natural water flows.
Natural drainage systems have been blocked, stormwater pathways have been redirected, and the soil's permeability has been reduced due to unchecked construction and concrete sprawl. Rainwater builds up more quickly than it can be absorbed during each monsoon, overwhelming an already brittle infrastructure.
In addition to erasing environmental balance, the city's transition from sustainable, adaptive building practices to industrial uniformity has increased the frequency and magnitude of urban flooding, a man-made disaster masquerading as a natural one.
The time has come that we finally do sit down and revel in what is to become, dial our clocks backward, humbly take in the wisdom of those who came before us, translate it into a better and more modern approach used for a wider area, and make Lahore a place again not haunted by an impending flood threatening to wash away the stories of the less fortunate living on the outskirts who are directly impacted.