Discourse by the Shore: A Tidal Gathering of Architecture and Introspection

'Panir Daye – Joler Maan' — a deep realization of our essential connection with water, a lingering 'joloj bowdh' — stirred quietly through two days of gentle provocation and reflection by the sea. 'Moromibaad e Ghor ebong Moromibaadider Ghor – Attodorshon'—homes rooted in self-reflection and love—formed the emotional and philosophical backbone of this rare coming-together. What unfolded was not a conventional event, but a collective search. Each session, each voice carved out space for something far more essential than design—a return to essence.

These were not presentations, but invocations. Questions bubbled up like seafoam:
Who taught you how to see?
Whose eyes are you building for?
And what happens when you shift your lens?

Thematic explorations drifted like waves across our shared consciousness:

Wording Memories: Architecture in a Sensory Tongue beckoned us to recall through scent, texture, and silence.

Architecture for the Missing Middle exposed our collective forgetfulness of the 'mofussol's—spaces alive, yet left out. Spatial Acupuncture discussed as design methodology.

Reimagining Care in a Future of Precarity reframed care as a foundational design principle as it equips us for a future of precarity by working towards alternate ways of being that are politically conscious, thoughtful and embedded in local context.

Homes Beyond Design guided us to sculpt not just homes but stories, ensuring every family finds a sanctuary that neither hazards nor cities can steal.

Harmonious Trio – Sketching, Model Making, Concept Writing reminded us of the elemental tools that shape the foundation of architectural thoughts.

Us and Them…. or 'We'? Towards Biodiverse Places discussed 'Natural Heritage' alongside the much-considered 'Cultural Heritage' when we design a Public Place which holds more potential of reaching to mass

A profound question lingered in the salty breeze: In a land where soil holds magic and people are magicians, what is the future of tourism? Should we only design for humans—or also for the silent witnesses, the non-human beings who await our awakening into deeper coexistence?

There was no hierarchy here. The wisdom of seasoned practitioners flowed beside the raw reflections of young architects. Fresh thoughts tangled gently with deep-rooted knowing. The air was thick with generosity, not ego.

And in this rhythm of sessions, a new kind of silence emerged—not empty, but full.
Full of what couldn't be said.
Full of what we're still learning to ask.
Full of the discreet ache of a profession that shapes, shelters, and often, silently suffers.

Because truly—how often do architects pause?
To reflect.
To just be.

Under the full monsoon moon, upon the soft sands of Mermaid Beach, Cox's Bazar, something precious was born. Not a seminar. Not a conference. But a rare communion. Discourse by the Shore was a gentle rebellion—against the rush, the noise, and the rituals of architectural performance. No formal stage, no extravagant lighting. Just people, just presence. Just listening.

Curated by Marina Tabassum, this two-day dialogue held on July 11–12, 2025, found a home at Mermaid Beach Resort, a site where waves write verses and the air carries memory. The sessions began with Ehsan Khan's deeply insightful presentation on the Cox's Bazar masterplan—ideas, mappings, provocations. Marina Tabassum shared her intent behind this gathering—not a display of projects, but a sharing of dreams. A space where architects bring forth the ideas shaping our context, not just our buildings. Khondaker Hasibul Kabir echoed his enduring commitment to co-creation—designing hand-in-hand with marginal communities, envisioning a future where 'manush ebong na-manush' coexist harmoniously.

As Nahas Ahmed Khalil remarked in the closing session, "this has the potential of becoming a historical event, only if we can carry forward the thoughts that were shared here." From young voices to wise ears, from thought-leaders to rebel-builders, the collective journeyed through doubt, love, and rediscovery. True essence of morom, true pride—comes from inner knowing. From reconnection. For two spellbound days, we turned away from the chaos of cities, and toward the truth within.

And the sea listened. So did the moonlit night and swaying coconut trees and may be the birds and the ants that were gently passing through the shaded pavilion.

Not a backdrop, but a co-creator. A witness. An elder.
The site spoke her story—her rhythm, her knowing. The site itself was not a backdrop—it was a speaker, a host, an elder. In 'letting the site express her story, rhythm, wisdom', the group practiced a different kind of architecture—one that listens more than it speaks.

A part of the event was an exhibition—one built and one unbuilt project from each participant—showcasing both what can be achieved when rooted in the context of Bangladesh, and the depth of ideas shaping our future. The night before, under a steady moonlit rain, I, as part of the organizing team, worked alongside an exceptional cohort—Didarul Islam Dipu, Suvro Sovon Chowdhury, Khandaker Ashifuzzaman Rajon, Rashed Chowdhury, and Tabassum Zarin Tithi—crafting the open-air exhibition pavilion from site-found recycled wooden poles. I watched with great admiration as these sought-after emerging architects labored with humility in the relentless rain—an enduring testament to the passion and devotion that define this extraordinary creative profession. By morning, the clouds had lifted, revealing an installation as gentle as it was purposeful. Architects flew in from Dhaka, locals and tourists wandered in from the beach, and beneath swaying coconut trees, a rare connection sparked—between the profession and the public.

This inaugural gathering was not just successful—it was essential. It answered Mermaid Resort's call for sustainable, soulful tourism, and opened a doorway into what architecture could become—gentler, wiser, more rooted. As moonlight danced across the water, thoughts drifted like driftwood—unfinished, beautiful, becoming. We left with the quiet certainty that this was just the beginning.

Photo: Maruf Raihan

The writer is an Architect and Academician