KRISHNA RAO JAISIM: THE MAVERICK WHO TURNED ARCHITECTURE INTO AN ADVENTURE

Krishna Rao Jaisim never imagined he would become one of India's most distinctive architectural voices. As a boy growing up in Madras, he loved sketching, solving puzzles, riding motorcycles and tinkering with machines. Architecture slipped into his life in aquiet, accidental way. His grandfather, H. S. Lakshminarasappa, had been chief architect to the Maharaja of Mysore. Architecture was familiar but not an ambition. When his parents asked him to choosea course after pre-university, he hesitated. His mother gently suggested architecture, while his grandfather insisted that at least one person in the family should carry forward the profession. He walked into Guindy Engineering College thinking he was appearing for an engineering interview. That visit steered him into the Madras School of Architecture. He joined with mild reluctance, but those five years reshaped him. The campus taught him discipline and imagination. Mentors like Sheila Tribe and Sri Krishna Chitale sharpened his instincts. A book gifted by his brother, Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead added a rebellious streak. It didn't make him a follower of Rand, but it encouraged him to trust his own mind. That impulse would define his career.

Finding His Calling in Madras
Jaisim graduated in 1966 and joined LM Chitale & Son, one of the most respected firms in Madras. The work was steady, the training rigorous. For four years he absorbed everything architecture could teach him - structure, detailing, discipline, patience. When Chitale offered hima promotion, he surprised everyone by resigning. He was restless, eager to explore on his own terms. In 1970, he started Jaisim-Fountainhead from his father's garage. There was no team, no plan, and no guarantee of clients. But one of Chitale's biggest clients approached him quietly, offeringa project. That commission gave hima foothold. More work followed.

He approached every project with a mix of curiosity and restraint. Silence, he felt, was the best starting pointfor design. History, he often said, is rarely kind to those who hurry.

His first independent design, Ego, a home on the sands of Kalakshetra beach, was a declaration of intent. Minimalist, uncompromising and experimental, it bent the rules of domestic architecture. It also introduced him as an architect willing to take risks.

A Sudden Leap Into the Gulf
In 1975 came an unexpected turn. Two of his clients insisted he fly to Muscat the next morning. He didn't have a passport. By the next dawn, one was ready. The one-week trip becamea four-year stay. Oman opened up a world that challenged him at every level. He designed buildings, ran a fabrication unit, handled construction contracts, and even managed a stone-crushing operation. It was architecture stripped to its bones - material, climate, site, survival. His wife, Geeta, joined him soon after. She landed in Muscat on a visa she assumed he had arranged, only to discover it came from a well-wisher. Within a week, she received a job offer and helped build the Bank of Muscat & Oman. The couple was urged to stay. They could have built fortunes, but chose to return to India. He came back with something more valuable: a sharper, deeper idea of architecture.


For Jaisim, architecture was never about buildings alone. It was a way of reading the world. He believed materials had personalities, space had memory, and nature had its own quiet logic.


A New Beginning in (Bangalore)
After returning in 1980, he settled in Bengaluru, then a sleepy, green city that matched his temperament. His new home, Anthem, became his signature. Built with stone, natural ventilation, catenary roofs, wind-catchers and a sundial, the house was more than architecture. It was philosophy made physical. Students visited it for decades as a reference point for climate-sensitive design. From here, Jaisim-Fountainhead grew into one of India's most eclectic practices. It handled everything from holiday homes in the hills to coastal resorts, institutions, factories, landscape design, senior-living spaces, corporate campuses and social projects. Taj Fisherman's Cove on the Bay of Bengal coast became one of its most recognisable early landmarks. What tied these works together was not a visual "style" but an attitude: material honesty, ecological sensitivity, and deep respect for space, light and human comfort.

A Practice That Breathed Like a Community
Jaisim's office was known as much for its culture as for its projects. Many architects hold their teams close. He urged his juniors to fly on their own wings. "Start your own practice," he would say. "The journey must be yours." This unusual generosity createda network of independent architects across the country who still carry his influence. To them, he was not justa practitioner, but a guide who understood that creativity thrives in freedom. Before sustainability became a buzzword, he designed with recycled materials, hollow blocks, laterite, stone, terracotta and waste wood. He valued ventilation over gadgets, climate over spectacle, simplicity over noise.

Major Projects and Milestones
Across six decades, his portfolio reflected both range and fearlessness. Geodesic pavilions, industrial sheds, factories, beach resorts, schools, panchayat buildings, domed residences, townships and coastal retreats - nothing was off-limits. Some standouts remain etched in architectural circles: Ego - the beach house that announced his entry Anthem - the family home that becamea textbook of eco-sensitive design Taj Fisherman's Cove near Mahabalipuram Domed residences like Guhe, built for actor C. R. Simha Large-span industrial structures and pavilions like "BUBE" Camps, institutions and holiday homes across South India