“Death of architecture in Delhi” hides layers of history; explore forgotten tales from Mughal arches to Partition memories

In South Delhi, a peaceful Spanish-style baroque house is set to be demolished to make way for a larger, developer-built structure. This is not an isolated case—such transformations are rapidly reshaping the city’s landscape. For archaeologist, curator, and art historian Anica Mann, this marks more than just the loss of one home. She sees it as a symbol of the slow disappearance of Delhi’s unique architectural identity. Speaking at the Kiran Nadar Museum of Art, Mann described this trend as the “death of architecture in Delhi,” where historic homes are being replaced by generic, modern structures with little character.Mann emphasised how Delhi’s architectural memory is being erased in tandem with its history. “The memory of the modern is being forgotten, just as the memory of Partition was,” she reflected. Through her project Delhi Houses, Mann has been documenting and archiving the city’s disappearing architectural gems on Instagram. The aim was to preserve the stories and people behind these homes, before they’re lost forever.The panel discussion also featured anthropologist Sarover Zaidi and architect Rafiq Kidwai. While the event could have devolved into pure nostalgia, it instead mapped the evolution of Delhi’s architecture in response to shifting societal needs. Older Delhi homes weren't buildings; they were constructed around the lives of people living in them. Created for women and families, these homes had plenty of storage, expansive dining areas, and terrazzo floors that hid dust and were thus practical and pretty.Modern homes, though, are planned with resale value and cost-effectiveness in mind. They are small, cookie-cutter, and personality-free. Mann deplored the fact that, in the interest of being modern, we are sacrificing community and warmth for cold, impersonal living areas. As Zaidi so eloquently phrased it, "The drama of the house has been lost." One of the photographs Mann presented was a former great 17th-century house from the Mughal era in Old Delhi. Although in ruin, its arches, carvings, and leaning trees told tales of a rich past. "Perfumed air from ittars would have filled the courtyard, while music and lively chatter echoed through the alleyways," Mann stated. Courtyards, which were the focus of Delhi residences, provided natural cooling and social interaction. These are a rarity today. The disappearance of joint families and legal division of properties have resulted in vertical building and the disappearance of open, shared areas.Barsatis (rooftop rooms) were culturally significant as well. They were spaces of congregation, exotic settings, and locations for movies such as Delhi-6. They are now promoted as luxury penthouses, removed from their collective origins.Mann also remembered a trip to a century-old house on Hanuman Road, where an old couple still upheld daily routines such as presenting Shiuli flowers to Hindu gods. These houses are not mere abodes—they are vessels for culture and faith. But as nuclear families migrate to new suburbs, and ancient homes are divided or sold, these traditions disappear with the walls that once contained them.A number of the Old Delhi dwellings also had distinct features such as outdoor benches along the entrance, meant to facilitate neighborly interaction. These subtle but deliberate architectural touches created a sense of belonging and community now mostly missing in contemporary developments. The discussion at KNMA also touched on Delhi’s post-Partition identity. Mann described how families fleeing carried what they could—furniture, heirlooms, memories and invested their resilience into building new homes. These weren’t merely survival shelters, but testaments to hope and pride. Architect Karl Malte Von Heinz was instrumental in designing homes for these refugee communities. His legacy is still seen in Jamia Millia Islamia's vintage school buildings, one of the parts of "a period of gracious living" described by Mann.As time passed, separate communities created their own niches throughout the city: Bengalis in CR Park, Northeasterners in Majnu Ka Tilla, Punjabis in Rajouri Garden. Each of these enclaves infused the city with its own cultural and architectural taste, entwining a rich urban fabric.During the Q&A session, one audience member raised the idea of haunted homes and referenced Walter Benjamin’s notion that homes can emotionally linger long after we’ve left them. Mann drew a parallel with Japanese beliefs, where lovingly cared-for objects can acquire spiritual presence.“An old house can feel alive with past experiences,” she said. “Homelessness isn’t just about lacking a roof; it’s a haunting absence of rootedness.”Also Read | Cobra in the hospital! Snakebite victim’s family brings live venomous snake that bit him; sparks panic and fear