Humanity’s fascination with ghosts is old and persistent. Ancient Egyptians once wrote letters to their dead relatives, hoping they would help in addressing their earthly troubles. Shakespeare’s ghost of King Hamlet refuses to leave the cultural imagination. Closer home, Rajasthan’s Bhangarh Fort is branded among “India’s most haunted”. And if you shift the gaze to Delhi, the capital’s own landscape is littered with fabled apparitions – from Firoz Shah Kotla’s djinns to the twin graves of Jamali-Kamali and the brooding isolation of Malcha Mahal, among others.
And it’s this enduring appetite for the other world – inhabited by ghosts and djinns – that author Eric Chopra, of Itihasology fame, taps into in his new book Ghosted: Delhi’s Haunted Monuments, published by Speaking Tiger.
The cover is striking. Its purple-orange palette creates an immediate sense of mystery and is anchored by a picture of the tomb of Jamali-Kamali, the site with which Chopra opens his book.
Located in the Mehrauli Archaeological Park, the place is believed to be inhabited by djinns, who, if you leave your hair untied, would “slap you,” or marry you. “At least, I won’t leave single,” Chopra quipped at the recent launch of his book in Delhi, while recounting his experience while entering the site. It’s the kind of lightness he brings to Ghosted, though never in a way that makes the subject feel trivial.
A case for popular history
It isn’t the academic history that Chopra is after, but popular history—history as lived, retold and ritualised. The book doesn’t pretend to settle the what, when, and why of Delhi’s haunted sites. Instead, it looks at how ordinary people relate to the remains of the past: forts, palaces, temples, tombs, dargahs, and the stories that cling to them.
For example, it doesn’t matter that the towering pillar that stands in the middle of Firoz Shah Kotla, another of Delhi’s “haunted” spaces—is the Ashokan pillar, bearing the ancient Buddhist king’s dhamma. But for the countless believers who visit it on Thursdays, with their handwritten pleas, threads and even Aadhar cards, it’s Lath Waale Baba, a djinn they petition. It’s this belief that draws crowds to Nanhe Miya, Bade Miya and the rest of Kotla’s spectral bureaucracy.
And it’s not that Chopra surrenders to these beliefs. He simply refuses to judge them.
And in about 250 pages, he traces Delhi’s haunted geography, while weaving in how people engage with history now, whether through heritage walks or fashion. He cites designer Karan Torani’s 2020 menswear collection, Jamali Kamali, inspired by the relationship of the duo — whose true relationship nobody knows, though many believe they were lovers. Here, Chopra also weaves in his relationship with historical sites and figures. For example, about Jamali-Kamali, he writes: “But has Jamali-Kamali been a monument that allowed many queer people, including myself, to look at our histories from a much more inclusionary lens?”
Of Firoz & Zafar
One of Ghosted’s most notable choices is its treatment of historical figures—not as untouchable icons or villains, nor as mere names in a textbook, but as people who once lived. So Firoz Shah Tughlaq simply becomes Firoz; Bahadur Shah Zafar is Zafar; Abdur Rahim Khan-i-Khanan is “the Rahim ke Dohe fame”, and about Babur, he writes: “The first Mughal was a diarist.”
“When you use epithets, or salutation, or think of them as grand sultans and poets, you lose the human,” Chopra said at his book launch.
The approach may not seem extraordinary, but at a time when historical figures are either glorified or vilified, it humanises them, while also allowing the book to read, at times, like fiction, enhancing engagement.
A compelling read
In the end, Ghosted is an engaging read, with some chapters stronger than others. The standout is the chapter on Malcha Mahal, whose mysterious occupants claimed to be the Awadhi royals and successors of Wajid Ali Shah. They lived there until 2017 without running water or electricity, and one of them reportedly died by suicide after consuming crushed diamonds — adding another layer to the site’s eerie history.
Chopra also notes, with a touch of wry humour, how many of Delhi’s haunted sites trace back to Firoz Shah Tughlaq. “His ubiquitousness wherever there is a hint of the supernatural is bewildering,” he writes, highlighting the sultan’s curious persistence in the city’s spectral lore.
And whether you believe in ghosts or not, Ghosted makes for a compelling read, even nudging you to visit one of these sites, just to see for yourself.