I didn’t go to Delhi with a plan to hunt down havelis. Honestly, I was just trying to escape the noise. The city’s full-on energy – the horns, the heat, the hustle – can knock the breath out of you. So when I wandered into a narrow lane off Chandni Chowk, shaded by crisscrossing electrical wires and flanked by crumbling facades, I wasn’t expecting to stumble into another era. I was looking authentic India and I’d received a recommendation. That’s what led me to Haveli Dharampura, Old Delhi.
The entrance is easy to miss if you’re not paying attention. A small archway at the top of a small flight of steps, a wooden door amongst many wooden doors. A smart and traditionally dressed doorman greets you and opens the door into another world; the moment I stepped through, it was like the city outside dimmed.
Inside, the haveli opened up in quiet symmetry – a central courtyard framed by colonnades, arches carved like lace, a stillness and coolness that felt reverent. Light slanted down, creating shadows that highlighted the beauty of the space. It almost felt like something sacred.
I had read that the word “haveli” comes from the Arabic “hawali,” meaning private space. It makes sense. This felt like a secret kept in stone and air.
Haveli Dharampura isn’t a museum. It’s been carefully restored and turned into a heritage hotel, but thankfully, it hasn’t lost its soul. The rooms echo the Mughal and Rajput styles – high ceilings, jharokhas with delicate lattices, floors inlaid with traditional patterns. Each door seemed to open into another slice of history. All the rooms are different; their layout, their furnishings and their themes. They were all exquisite – when you wake up here you know immediately that you are staying somewhere special and somewhere oozing old India. No chain hotel blandness here.
One room had a view of Jama Masjid in the distance, framed like a painting through the arched window. Another, set with antique wooden furniture, smelled faintly of roses. There were soft rugs underfoot and walls that held their age with grace.
What really caught me was the roof top terrace. You climb an increasingly narrow staircase and suddenly Delhi is at your feet. Pigeons wheel in the sky – pigeon keeping is a popular pastime and in the evenings you can often see the owner training the circling flocks of their charges. The skyline is a chaotic beauty—minarets, domes, satellite dishes. The Red Fort, Jama Masjid and a host of other Old Delhi sites stretch away around you. They serve tea up there, and I sat sipping mine, listening to the call to prayer rise and fall in the distance.
You can also join in a traditional Delhi activity – kite-flying. Their resident kite expert is there to get it airborne for you in the still, summer skies, but once aloft its up to you to keep it there and try to cut the string (the string is glass-powder coated) of other kites. Its a cut-throat business – my first kite was soon fluttering earthwards after a sneak attack from a ninja 12 year old on a nearby building. After a couple of attempts, I exacted my revenge.
It wasn’t just the architecture that struck me. It was the feeling that this place had once been full of life in a different way. I imagined the mehfils, the poetry recitations, the whispered conversations under the stars. Maybe even Mirza Ghalib had passed by. We watched traditional dancing as we ate supper, high above on an upper level, the music filling the haveli as it had done in the evenings for centuries.
In the old days, havelis like this were more than just homes. They were the pulse of the city-centres of commerce, culture, and kinship. The outer courtyards hosted guests and traders, while the inner ones offered sanctuary to families. The women, observing purdah, lived mostly in those shaded inner spaces, their lives unfolding within walls that held so many secrets.
Now the main courtyard can be sat in for a cooling drink or refreshing cup of spiced chai. The main restaurant overlooks its beautiful stone and tile decorations, with glass walls that can be closed when the heat of summer rises. The food was traditional dishes and delicious – the Haveti Special Dahi Puri was my favourite. More International cuisine is of course available for those with more homely tastes. (If you like a spot of heat, start off with the palate-cleansing Kanji drink. Its warm…)
Walking through Dharampura, I felt that duality – a place both private and communal, outwardly grand yet inwardly intimate. The blend of commerce and home, past and present. Small private seating areas suddenly appeared as you turned a corner, perfect for a chat with friends or to curl up in for a quiet read.
I left reluctantly, stepping back through the door into the busy lane. The noise hit me again, but it didn’t jar the same way. I’d seen a quieter Delhi, one hidden behind wooden doors and red sandstone. One that still breathed in courtyards and carvings.
If you ever find yourself in Old Delhi, look for the shadows between the spice shops and sari stalls. Follow the alleys where the light narrows. The havelis are still there, if you’re paying attention, and Haveli Dharampura will teach you about the real Old Delhi with an understated luxury that will make it a highlight of your Delhi stay, rather than just your accommodation.
Fact Box about Haveli Dharampura, Old Delhi:
Location: Gali Guliyan, near Jama Masjid, Old Delhi, India
Website: https://www.havelidharampura.com/
Built In: Late 19th Century
Architecture: Mughal, Rajput, and European influences. Intricate jharokhas (overhanging balconies), carved brackets, red sandstone facades, and arched doorways.
Restored By: Vijay Goel. Restoration began in 2011 and took nearly six years.
Purpose: Converted into a heritage hotel and cultural space
Features 14 luxury rooms, a fine-dining restaurant, and rooftop views of Jama Masjid.
Cultural Highlights:
– Kathak performances every weekend
– Traditional Indian cuisine at Lakhori restaurant
– Rooftop views of Old Delhi and the Red Fort
UNESCO Recognition:
Nominated for the UNESCO Asia-Pacific Award for Cultural Heritage Conservation in 2017
FAQs
What is a haveli?
A haveli is a traditional mansion or townhouse commonly found across northern India, Pakistan, and Nepal, especially in regions influenced by Mughal and Rajput architecture. In Delhi, havelis once formed the core of urban life—elegant homes for the elite that doubled as spaces for trade, art, and community gatherings.
Where can I find havelis in Delhi?
The best place to explore havelis in Delhi is Shahjahanabad (Old Delhi). Wandering through areas like Chandni Chowk, you’ll come across several of these aging beauties—some restored, others crumbling, but all telling stories of a more opulent age.
What makes haveli architecture special?
Havelis are known for their impressive facades, intricate carvings, and jharokhas (latticed windows), all wrapped around an inner courtyard that served as the heart of the home. The layout usually included:
- An outer courtyard for guests and business,
- An inner courtyard offering private family space, particularly for women observing purdah,
- Features like fountains, gardens, and shaded verandahs to create a tranquil escape from Delhi’s heat and bustle.
Were havelis only residential spaces?
Far from it. Many havelis were multi-purpose structures, especially those owned by merchant families. It wasn’t unusual to see a textile shop on the ground floor, a warehouse tucked into a back lane, and the family living quarters perched just above it all. These homes were as much about commerce as they were about comfort.
What role did havelis play in society and culture?
In their heyday, havelis were centres of culture and refinement. Poetry gatherings (mehfil), musical evenings, and intellectual debates often took place in their drawing rooms. Renowned poets like Mirza Ghalib were known to frequent them. These mansions weren’t just homes—they were social salons and political hubs wrapped into one.
What was life like in a haveli community?
Each haveli was part of a mohalla (neighbourhood), where life unfolded in shared rituals, festivals, and everyday routines. The interconnectedness of courtyards and alleyways created a strong sense of community, with neighbours supporting one another in times of joy and hardship alike.
What led to their decline?
The decline of the Mughal Empire, followed by British colonial restructuring and post-Independence urban sprawl, spelled doom for many havelis. Some were chopped into flats, others simply fell into disrepair. Entire streets of havelis have vanished under layers of concrete and commercial development.
Are any havelis being restored today?
Yes—and it’s worth seeking them out. Restorations like Haveli Dharampura in Old Delhi have brought new life to these historical gems, converting them into heritage hotels and cultural spaces. While only a few have survived intact, they offer a rare window into the architectural and cultural soul of historic Delhi.
Why should I visit a haveli in Delhi?
To step into a haveli is to step back in time—into a world of carved archways, hidden courtyards, and whispered poetry. These mansions offer more than Instagrammable walls—they reveal layers of Delhi’s social history, architectural evolution, and enduring spirit. Whether you’re a history buff, an architecture enthusiast, or just curious, the haveli is an essential piece of the Old Delhi experience.
Tip: Wear comfortable shoes and go early in the morning to avoid the crowds. For a guided experience, several walking tours now include haveli visits—some even offer traditional meals in restored homes.
