Delhi is haunted—by its ghosts, its ruins, and its unending capacity for rebirth. In the shadow of medieval mosques and Mughal tombs, the past refuses to stay buried. Saints, Sultans, poets, and lovers—all linger in the city’s imagination, their stories shaping how we remember what once was.
In Ghosted, historian and storyteller Eric Chopra journeys through the capital’s most beguiling sites—Jamali-Kamali, Firoz Shah Kotla, Khooni Darwaza, the Mutiny Memorial, and Malcha Mahal—to unearth a Delhi that exists between worlds: a palimpsest where Sufis bless kings, jinn listen to grievances, and begums occupy dilapidated hunting lodges. What begins as a search for Delhi’s haunted monuments becomes a meditation on why we are drawn to the dead and how ghost stories become vessels of collective memory.
Blending archival research with folklore, myth, and reflection, Chopra paints an intimate portrait of a city forever in dialogue with its former selves. Through invasions and rebirths, he reveals that Delhi’s spirit resides not just in its monuments but in the unseen presences that linger among them.
Ghosted is a lyrical, haunting journey through the city’s spectral landscape— an invitation to listen to what its echoes tell us about memory and identity.
Stories of ghosts, of hauntings are ever a subject of fascination, even more so when associated with a city and spaces that are familiar. Delhi, with presence of life in its vicinity dating back to a 100,000 years, and which consists of multiple cities that evolved either atop each other, or in different spaces alongside, each layer never really wiping out the others, is replete with such stories and histories, and in Ghosted: Delhi's Haunted Monuments (2025), author, speaker, and historian Eric Chopra explores these intriguing facets of the city.
The book specifically focuses on five monuments: Jamali-Kamali, a tomb said to be home to jinn; Feroz Shah Kotla, the fort of Feroz Shah Tughlaq where too, jinn but of a benevolent character are believed to be present; the iconic Khooni Darwazah associated with many a gruesome death; the Mutiny Memorial, tribute to those fallen in the 1857 war of independence, initially the colonisers and later rededicated to those that gave their lives struggling against them, and said to be haunted by a headless English officer; and the Malcha Mahal associated with those who lived more recently, though their lives were equally tinged with tragedy.
While one might most commonly relate such spaces with fear and fascination, delving into their stories we find much more, there is fear no doubt but also mystery, for instance in Jamali-Kamali, where Shaikh Jamaluddin Kamboh, sixteenth-century Sufi saint, poet, and political figure lies buried, and beside him the mysterious Kamali of whom nothing is known. Guesses range from a son or favoured pupil to an equally talented brother or perhaps even a lover. Likewise, there are faith and devotion in Feroz Shah Kotla, said to be inhabited by jinn to whom petitions are regularly submitted and prayers offered by people seeking solace or solutions to their lives’ problems. Tragedy too, characterises many of these stories (and relatedly the spaces), especially those associated with the Khooni Darwazah, tales of sons cruelly (and even pointlessly) killed and the pain of their fathers, deliberately confronted with the heartbreaking truth. The connections of these stories with the actual monument are debatable, some with no evidence, others tenuous best but that doesn't impact the emotion they still carry. Different but equally tragic is the life of the family that came to live in Malcha Mahal. It is interesting (as the author too highlights) how many of the monuments spoken about in the book connect with Feroz Shah Tuqlak, though never with his ghost!
Journeying through these monuments with the author, we learn not only their histories and those of their otherworldly residents but also the context, when and by whom they were built and more, from which we also come to realise how feelings and connections, and even the role and significance of these spaces have changed over time. Feroz Shah Kotla, for instance, carries history from the period even before it was built in the form of an Ashokan pillar on the uppermost level, installed by Feroz Shah as a symbol of might, and was representative of the sovereign's power in his day, served as a meeting place for Shaheed Bhagat Singh and Chandrashekhar Azad during the freedom struggle and a place of refuge post partition, and more recently has become a space explored by art and used for performances by theatre, apart from being one of petition and prayer. This last too has seen a change with the traditional interaction with the jinn done away with in the name of ‘cleanliness’, the attempt to banish these benevolent spirits very reminiscent of the hearth and nature spirits of Katherine Arden's Winternight books being pushed out by new beliefs and practices, depriving spaces of their gracious protection.
In putting together this rich account, the author draws from a range of sources, history texts of course, but also religion and etymology, folklore and myth, architecture, television programmes and features, as also personal interactions with these spaces through visits, conducting heritage walks, and conversations with and observations of a range of others who too are associated with them–fellow historians, artists, visitors, petitioners, and even security personnel.
The outcome is an engaging and fascinating book much more than simply ‘ghost stories’ although some of the typical paraphernalia (creaking doors, chained up tombs, a headless ghost seeking directions) of these can be seen/experienced. It feels almost as if one is visiting each space (and its surroundings) with the author, exploring its stories and those of its otherworldly inhabitants but also going deeper to comprehend their many layers. The book is abundant in detail and while mostly not overwhelming, this is an account best read slowly to take in and enjoy it all. There are both black and white photographs and paintings, and colour plates to help the reader get a sense of these places and those associated with them.
The book is as much about Delhi as about its monuments, their spirits, and those that once lived there, and reading it is much like reading the story of the city, its rulers and saints, architecture and culture, a place where various levels of past and present dwell simultaneously, all together a rewarding experience.
Another layer of history of one of our most magnificent (and hence often doomed) metropolis, it lends a new view to each of the monuments mentioned here that you would now visit enriched by the tales of the Supernatural that envelop them over the past many centuries. An important book.
👻"Of all the stories that we get to hear about the otherworld, what we must not forget are the very real horrors of the world that we inhabit and the urgency there is to call them out." . . . 👻Narration flows, a smooth read.
👻The writer is humble in sharing his thoughts and reflections.
👻Some more excerpts I highlighted:
👻Paradoxically, something that is meant to scare us ‘away’ becomes an invitation.
👻We need magic to tolerate our everyday disenchantments.
👻This Mahal(Malcha Mahal)becomes a lens through which to see the tremors of postcolonial India: the unresolved fractures of Partition, the clash between inherited histories and imposed modernities, and the unease of a city that is always building over its own ghosts.
👻But rarely do we ask: how do we haunt the city? We do so when we do not unlearn our privilege, when we stop speaking truth to power, and when we become complicit through silence. We haunt it when we allow communal hatred, censorship, gendered violence, and environmental neglect to become ordinary. These are the horrors Delhi faces now.
👻At the end of the book are the notes and bibliography, all links for the academic essays and book chapters, news and articles and digital media cited in the book and an index. Plus color photographs.
👻Those with interest in nonfiction, history, architecture, travelogues and ghost/ supernatural haunted mysteries will like the book.
👻There is good language. I added many words to my vocabulary.
Eric Chopra is a historian and a fellow Stephanian, so I was very excited to read this book. I can sense his passion for the subject and he’s put in a lot of work as far as research is concerned. But his writing is just dull - he managed to make an interesting subject very ho-hum. I don’t want to judge too harshly because I’ve definitely read worse non-fiction, but I’ve also read much much better non-fiction! An average book.