Through the Jaalis: Rethinking Boundaries and Connections
Are boundaries, as we understand them, isolating us?
As mental health has entered everyday conversations, I hear the word ‘boundaries’ used quite frequently in daily interactions.
Statements like:
“I am learning to set boundaries with my family now.”
“I have set boundaries at work with my manager.”
“I have told my friend that I do not take any calls on Sundays.”
Very often I hear my therapy clients also discuss their attempts at learning how to “build healthy boundaries” with people in their lives.
This word 'boundaries' is often used as shorthand for self-care, safety, and clarity in relationships, and rightly so. There are contexts where boundaries are vital to establish. They protect us from harm in abusive or exploitative relationships, help us manage work-life balance, and give clarity in several roles we play in life. In these spaces, boundaries safeguard wellbeing.
Yet, when I reflect on the word 'boundaries', I sometimes find it isolating. Boundaries suggest walls; walls suggest safety within, but also separation. Boundaries protect us by creating a private space, but they can also imprison us where connection is what we seek. The key is knowing when they serve as a safe haven and when they turn into rigid, impenetrable walls. Does this emphasis on boundaries, then, risk sliding us into isolation, even when what we long for is safety and connection?
In the collectivist culture like that of India, this tension feels even sharper. Ours is a culture that prizes togetherness, where family, community, and interdependence are woven deeply into our sense of self. To say “I am setting a boundary” with a family member or friend can feel unnatural, even guilt-inducing at times. Yet, it is also true that we need ways to care for our own wellbeing in these relationships.
As I was reflecting on cultural representations of walls and boundaries within the Indian context, I was reminded of the jaali, the intricately carved stone latticework found in mediaeval Indian architecture. These beautiful perforated screens allowed light and air to filter through while still offering shade, privacy, and safety. Walk through the havelis of Rajasthan or the forts of Delhi and Agra, and you’ll see how jaalis transform solid walls into living, breathing surfaces, porous yet protective. Over time, jaalis also found their way into traditional homes. In India’s hot climate, they allowed for ventilation while keeping out dust and mosquitoes. Many households still retain jaali windows or doors for the same reason. Beyond function, they shaped patterns of connection. allowing neighbours to exchange greetings or glimpses through the lattice, preserving both distance and warmth.
"A jaali does not shut the world out, nor does it fully expose those inside. Instead, it creates a patterned in-between space: open yet protective, connected yet contained. Perhaps our relationships can work the same way."
Self-preservation doesn’t have to tip into isolation and still can include safe, nourishing connections. Redefining boundaries through the metaphor of the jaali allows us to co-create relationships that hold meaning, reciprocity, and beauty. Some relationships may have wider openings, while others might only need a gentle crack.
The beauty of a jaali lies not just in its design but in the play of light and shadow it creates. Every shift of the sun changes what streams through, just as every shift in our emotional landscape changes how much of ourselves we can share. A jaali boundary allows this movement. It accepts that openness is not a fixed state but a rhythm of expanding and contracting, revealing and retreating. In this sense, boundaries are not walls we build once and for all, but living patterns we continuously shape in response to life. The jaali honours fluidity instead of rigidity. It feels less like saying, “I’m setting boundaries,” and more like, “I’m choosing how I can be open right now.”
In a world increasingly inundated by loneliness, this reframing matters deeply. We don’t need higher walls. We need carefully chosen openings. Openings that let light and air stream through, connections to form while allowing us to remain safe within ourselves.
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