Part one of a detailed history of a home for adolescents that took shape through constant collaboration, experiments with new forms of living, and community involvement.
Related stories:
The Kailash story (Part 2)
The City of the Past
Kailash no more
Originally published June-July 2025
It all started in September 1998. Jean-François and I were at home when a group of teenagers, familiar faces from the Auroville schools, walked in with a quiet determination. They had something to say. They sat down with us and said they’d been dreaming. They wanted to create a place just for youth. A home. A space to live, not just to hang out.
At first, we were cautious. These kids were between 12 and 15 years old. We told them honestly: this would take time, and more likely than not, they might never live there themselves. But they had come to us, two social workers, not architects, not builders. That meant one thing: if we were going to do this, it would have to be from an educational angle.
We asked them, do you want to go as far as we can together? See where it leads? They said yes.
We formed a team: Jean-François and I, along with Anne, a psychologist, and her partner Marc. And the youth who started it all: Kevin, Ladina, Ira, Jitta, Offa, Arian, Shandra, Chris, Arne and Satyavan. Together, we dove into the real work: what did they actually need?
Learning from the past
Their dream was inspired by Ami, a children’s community that had existed in Auroville years earlier. Ami had been beloved, but had slowly transformed into a permanent adult residence. That shift, where a space meant for youth became fixed housing, was something they wanted to avoid.
So we reflected: what had gone wrong? How could we do it differently? We decided that we needed an age limit. A rule that residents move out, so space remains open for new youth. This had to be a living, evolving space, not one that gets stuck. It had to serve the needs of a specific age group.
They didn’t want a youth club, nor an activity centre. They wanted a home, a safe and secure space where they could actually live. A small, community-based setting designed for them.
From idea to action
From there we began to write a project document, sometimes they wrote, sometimes we did. We sat through many meetings, shaping the concept from both a practical and visionary angle. We started asking hard questions: How much would it cost? How would we organise the space? How many people could live there?
To find those answers, we approached architects and others who could offer estimates. That process alone forced us to get clear: what kind of space were we really building? When the first drafts and estimates came together, we faced the next hurdle: fundraising.
At first, people gave money just on trust. But we realised quickly that trust needed structure.
We needed land. Approval from the Development Group. A way to receive and manage funds. So we approached SAIIER [Sri Aurobindo International Institute of Educational Research], and emphasised that this was not just a housing project, it was an educational initiative. People wouldn’t be coming because they needed shelter, but because they were joining a community with a purpose.
That framing helped. The School Board supported it. SAIIER accepted it. And then, by what felt like pure grace, Gateway stepped in, offering to fund 50% of the cost. Suddenly, we were no longer just dreaming, we were doing.
Webs of solidarity
With Gateway’s support, we gained momentum. I travelled to Europe. We spoke at an AVI UK (Auroville International) meeting. And all along, a web of friends and well-wishers began to support us in surprising, beautiful ways.
One colleague in France organised fashion shows, fundraising for Kailash. A friend got his company to allocate project funds to support us. People who saw the potential of this space, who believed in it, contributed.
That’s how it began to manifest. Slowly, steadily, through trust, grace, and a lot of help.
Then came Matthias from Altecs. Not an architect, not a contractor, a sound engineer, perhaps, but more importantly, someone with experience. He offered to build the project himself. He wanted to prove we could make something affordable and beautiful without everyone taking a cut. We said yes. His drawings were simple. The materials were humble: compressed mud blocks. But the vision was clear. He proposed a contract with a financial engagement between Altecs Construction and Kailash project holders. A very first, brave and true engagement.
With permissions in place and plans drawn, we started. But almost immediately, the Development Group panicked. There was no licensed architect attached. So they created a board of architects to review and refine the project. What could have been a disaster became one of the most collaborative design processes Auroville had seen. No one architect had ownership, so everyone contributed freely. It was beautiful.
Piero and Gloria worked on the facade. Anupama rethought the angles and bathrooms. Aurosatprem checked the technical side of the mud blocks. Everyone added something, neutrally, generously.
Even after construction began, the process remained open. Every Saturday, we held open community work mornings, inviting anyone to help. Youth came regularly. At each step, one of them would join us for meetings, an ongoing educational experience.
Some stayed deeply involved, others came and went. But the spirit of co-creation remained. It wasn’t someone’s building. It was ours, together.
A touch of grace
During construction, gifts kept arriving: Ange made a mosaic of the eyes of Kailash for the entrance. Erisa got and installed granite slabs for the walkway. Stefano offered to do the floor, and created an exquisite mosaic across the entire ground level. People just showed up and offered. That’s the magic of Kailash.
We officially welcomed the first youth residents in September 2001, just after I gave birth to our eldest son. My first outing with my newborn was to walk to Kailash and see how it was all coming together.
Why “Kailash”?
In the early days, we brainstormed names. I wanted it to start with a K, just a feeling. When someone said Kailash, something clicked. Kailash, the abode of God. It just felt right.
Looking back, that moment mirrors so many others. The sense that something larger was moving through us. That we were instruments, responding to a genuine need, supported by timing, vision, and, often, a flow of grace.
One day, we didn’t know how we’d pay salaries for the workers. I went swimming at Repos beach. Suzie joined me out in the sea, asked how things were going, and when I mentioned the shortfall, she asked how much we needed. She told me to go the next day, there would be a check waiting. And there was.
Another time at Solar Kitchen, someone asked what we needed. I mentioned we hadn’t bought the door handles for the bathrooms yet. He handed me the money on the spot.
It was full of stories like that. Without making it sound too pinkish, it really was grace. It carried us through.
Building a life together
Once the construction phase was complete and the first youth had moved in, Kailash transitioned from being a project to being a living community. And with that, came new challenges, especially because it was located in the heart of Auroville’s residential area.
Having a group of teenagers living at the centre of the city raised concerns. Getting the necessary permissions for the space had been difficult from the beginning. Some neighbors were not in favour. The community’s response was often skeptical, even resistant.
Moreover one of the basic principles of Kailash is that no adult caretakers live in the building, to allow the residents to learn from the consequences of their acts and not because of fear of authority. They need to grow and progress freely with supportive guidance and learn from their own errors. When rules of life are understood from within, they are well integrated. While if they are arbitrarily followed, they are simply applied.
The fact that no adults live on the spot is to leave space for errors and internal co-regulation and support. Growing and learning from the mistakes we make in a safe and secure environment is the best way to integrate the understanding of consequences.
“According to what I see and what I know, and generally, after fourteen years of age, children must be left independent and they must be guided only if they request it. They must be aware that they are responsible for the direction of their own existence.”
The Mother, 10 July 1968 (Mother’s Agenda)
To reassure people, we had to attend several meetings, explain our vision, and offer guarantees. We made it clear that we were professionals; both Jean-François and I had training and experience working with youth. Jean-François, especially, had spent years in France working in homes with teenagers. That background gave us a foundation to advocate for what we knew was possible.
At the same time, Auroville was engaged in wider discussions about its values and direction. Kireet Joshi, then Chairman of the Governing Board and of the International Advisory Council, was focussing on education and often repeated the idea that children should be placed at the centre of the city. That sentence became a kind of motto during this time, and it aligned perfectly with our effort to ground Kailash in the centre of Auroville, both physically and symbolically.
We reminded ourselves and others that placing children in the centre of the city didn’t just mean caring for them, it meant actually situating their lives, needs, and homes in the middle of our shared urban space. Kailash, in that sense, became a way to walk the talk.
Of course, it also required boundaries. To ease concerns, we set ground rules: no loud music or disturbances in the evenings, and a general culture of care and consideration. It was a balance, between freedom and responsibility, between youthful energy and community harmony.
Jean-François took the lead in setting up the social rhythms of Kailash. For the first seven years, he was there almost every day, and, in the beginning, almost every night. He became a pillar of support, presence, and consistency. Over time, as the community matured, he stepped back slightly. But by then, the culture had been established.
As new youth joined, those who had lived there longer naturally began to pass down the unspoken rules. There was a sense of transmission, not just in responsibilities, but in attitude. It wasn’t just about caretakers enforcing rules; it became a place where young people learned to regulate themselves, and each other.
A structured freedom
Daily life at Kailash was built around the idea that young people thrive when they are trusted and held to shared expectations.
One of the fundamental rules was that every resident must have a daytime activity: school, apprenticeship, volunteer work or a job. This requirement brought structure and rhythm. It encouraged youth to go to bed at a reasonable time, get up in the morning, and feel accountable to something beyond themselves. They were given the gift of living in this space, and in return, they had to give their energy to the community by contributing through learning and working.
There was also a clear age range: initially 14 to 21, but we quickly adjusted it to 16 to 21. We realised that 14 and 15-year-olds often struggled with the level of freedom we offered. They needed more adult presence and often misunderstood freedom as the right to do whatever they wanted, without realising it came with duties. With slightly older youth, these conversations became easier and more fruitful.
Managing a household was central to life in Kailash. Everyone had personal and shared responsibilities. Residents cleaned their own rooms and bathrooms, but shared spaces like the kitchen and corridors were maintained by a cleaning lady. However, all the management tasks, scheduling, purchasing, upkeep, were in the hands of the youth themselves.
Each person had a duty. One resident would be in charge of changing gas bottles. Another would monitor the water tank, ensuring it stayed full. Someone else handled garbage coordination with EcoService. Someone would take care of cleaning supplies. Others would supervise the financial contributions and manage accounting.
All of it served a purpose: teaching them how to live life and run a home, not alone, but together.
It wasn’t a leap straight from a family home to total independence. Kailash provided a middle ground where youth could learn how to live responsibly, surrounded by their peers, while slowly taking on adult tasks. What was theirs to do, they had to do, but always within a shared, supportive structure.
Cooking and community
The kitchen was the beating heart of Kailash. With 14 residents at full capacity, cooking was organised in pairs. Each person cooked once a week, with six nights covered by others. This rhythm kept things light and practical. The cooking team shops and cleans up too.
It also offered opportunities for creativity and sharing. Residents tried new recipes, introduced each other to foods from different cultures, and often surprised themselves with what they could prepare. It wasn’t just about feeding the group, it was about contributing to a common life.
When youth move in, they quickly discover that Kailash is not just a place to stay. It is a community. That understanding deepens over time, as they take up roles, responsibilities, and relationships.
Who is Kailash for?
Kailash welcomes anyone between 16 and 21 years old who is part of the Auroville system. Residents must either be Aurovilians, children of Aurovilians, children of Newcomers, or registered as students or volunteers. One cannot live at Kailash as a guest, as it is not a guest house. It is a committed, structured community, and that distinction matters deeply.
Some come because they want to live near friends who already stay in Kailash. Others are seeking a break from family life, perhaps needing space, distance, autonomy, or simply a bit of breathing room. Teenagers often go through phases where communication at home becomes difficult. Kailash offers an alternative, without breaking ties.
For those planning to leave Auroville in the future, for study, work, or exploration, Kailash acts as an intermediary step. It helps them prepare for independence while remaining rooted in their familiar environment. They learn the skills of living alone, but within a net of support.
And for youth arriving in Auroville on their own, without family, for school or volunteering, it provides a rare opportunity to integrate meaningfully. In earlier times in Auroville, such young people might have lived with families or in existing communities like Aspiration or Ami. Today, those options are more formalised, and Kailash fills that gap.
Joining the community
Usually, young people hear about Kailash through friends, school, or siblings who’ve lived there before. When someone expresses interest, we take note of their name and add them to a waiting list. Depending on the moment, that list may be short, or it may mean waiting a year or more for a spot to open.
When a place becomes available, we reconnect with the applicant, sit with them, and discuss where they’re at in their life. Are they still interested? Do they understand what Kailash really is? Visiting friends at Kailash is very different from becoming a Kailashian. It’s like the difference between visiting Auroville as a guest and becoming a Newcomer. The shift from visitor to resident brings new dynamics and responsibilities.
If the conversation goes well, the young person is invited to attend a Monday community meeting, a weekly tradition in Kailash. There, they introduce themselves to the whole group. The current residents then explain how Kailash functions: the rules, the structure, and the expectations.
After the meeting, the prospective resident leaves, and the community holds a round of reflections. How does everyone feel about the idea of this person joining? If any concerns arise, we address them in follow-up conversations. If the group feels aligned, we move to the next step: a joint meeting with the applicant and their parents.
During that second meeting, we go through a written agreement, a contract that outlines all aspects of Kailash life, point by point. This is also a space for parents to raise questions, express concerns, or clarify anything unclear. The family then takes the contract home to review it. Once they agree, the parents alongside the new resident signs it and is officially welcomed. They are shown the available room, a move-in date is set, and they join the rhythms of life.
A temporary but formative home
Residents generally stay in Kailash for several months to several years. The maximum stay is around five to six years, from the age of 16 to 21. We don’t accept people who only plan to be here a few weeks. It’s not a short-term solution, it’s a place to grow.
And so they grow. Together.
Originally published in Auroville Today No. 431-32 June-July 2025