Delhi: Low-rise Capital to high-rise city

Delhi, a city once recognised as much for its expansive skies as for its historic monuments, is undergoing a transformation more visible now than at any other time in its post-Independence history. Its skyline, that for decades rose gently above tree canopies and low-slung government quarters and stately domes, is now being pierced by cranes, glass façades and buildings that stretch far beyond the city’s traditional architectural vocabulary.

The Capital that once grew outward – spreading into new colonies, roads and localities – is now growing upward, its silhouette changing with each redevelopment project approved. This shift is altering not only how Delhi looks right now, but will define how the city will shape itself in the decades to come.

One of the clearest symbols of this transformation stands in Karol Bagh, where the Amaryllis Iconic Towers rise to around 208 metres, making them the tallest structures in Delhi. In a neighbourhood long associated with dense commercial streets, small hotels and wholesale markets rather than luxury high-rises, the arrival of towers of this scale marks a striking departure from tradition. Visible from arterial roads and metro corridors, they have become emblematic of a city shedding its long-standing hesitation toward skyscrapers.

Their presence has also altered real estate dynamics in surrounding areas, revealing how rapidly developers are now securing a foothold within Delhi’s municipal limits – a phenomenon once confined to Gurugram and Noida.

Similar transformations are unfolding across west Delhi, particularly in Moti Nagar, Kirti Nagar and other former industrial belts. Old warehouses and godowns are being replaced by gated high-rise societies offering amenities and densities that mirror those of NCR’s satellite towns. These neighbourhoods have emerged as some of the busiest redevelopment zones in Delhi, driven by their proximity to metro stations, the availability of contiguous land parcels and policy shifts that encourage compact growth.

Architect and urban planner Dikshu C Kukreja sees this transition as both unavoidable and fraught with responsibility. “Every city evolves with time. Delhi cannot afford to remain frozen in the imagery of the 1950s and 60s, when its population was a fraction of what it is today. But evolution does not mean Delhi should lose its character or adopt generic glass towers that could be anywhere in the world,” Kukreja said.

He warned that unless done thoughtfully, vertical growth could strain critical urban services. “If we do not consider water, sewerage, mobility and energy capacities before we build, the towers that look aspirational today will become unmanageable tomorrow.”

Nowhere has the tension between aspiration and preservation been more pronounced than in the heart of Lutyens’ Delhi. The recently completed MP residential towers on Baba Kharak Singh Marg have altered the panoramic view around the Parliament building, casting a tall concrete backdrop behind its distinctive dome. For conservationists and planners, the change has reignited long-standing questions about heritage view corridors and the planning principles that once governed the Central Vista area.

Height restrictions in this part of the city were once treated as inviolable, designed to preserve the unique experience of New Delhi’s bureaucratic heart. The new towers have forced a conversation about whether those principles still hold value in an era of rapid urban growth.

Historian Swapna Liddle said that the city is risking more than just altered views.

“Delhi’s identity has always been deeply tied to its sense of openness, its trees, its modest buildings, its human-scale streets,” she said.

“Mindless vertical development has begun to erode that. From Mehrauli to Chandni Chowk, the introduction of large, incongruous structures into historic neighbourhoods is changing the lived experience of the city. We may be depriving future generations of the Delhi we inherited.” Liddle argued that while cities must grow, the pace and method of that growth matter deeply in a place with as layered a history as the national capital.

The Delhi Development Authority’s Transit Oriented Development project at Karkardooma offers a glimpse of this alternative vision. Its 155-metre residential towers, integrated with metro connectivity and designed around walkable neighbourhoods, represent a paradigm shift for east Delhi. The TOD model encourages dense, mixed-use clusters centred on public transport, reducing car dependence while maximising scarce urban land.

Former DDA commissioner AK Jain describes the change as part of an evolution of cities. “Planning has always been about balancing the preservation of the past with the necessities of the future… Delhi cannot continue expanding outward indefinitely, nor can it maintain its low-rise character while meeting increasing housing and infrastructure demands. Vertical development, when done judiciously, can be a solution – but it must be accompanied by robust planning, heritage sensitivity and strong utility networks.”

Jain emphasised that vertical growth need not erase historical identity. “Cities like London, Paris and even Beijing show that it is possible to protect heritage precincts while allowing modern skylines to emerge in designated zones.”

Global examples underline both the promise and the perils of this approach. London fiercely protects views of St Paul’s Cathedral and the Palace of Westminster while permitting skyscrapers in clusters such as Canary Wharf. Paris enforces height limits across its historic arrondissements, reserving modern towers for La Défense. Istanbul offers a cautionary tale, where rapid, loosely regulated vertical construction has disrupted sightlines to historic mosques. Beijing, too, has struggled to reconcile its hutong neighbourhoods with high-rise districts, though recent years have seen renewed efforts to preserve traditional precincts.

In Delhi, much of the push for vertical growth is tied to new infrastructure projects reshaping land use at an unprecedented pace.

The expansion of the metro network has created corridors of renewed real estate interest, particularly in areas like Majlis Park, Karkardooma and Moti Nagar. Then there are expressways such as the Urban Extension Road-II and upcoming stretches of the Delhi–Dehradun Expressway, which are drawing investment toward peripheral zones once deemed too distant. At the same time, the redevelopment of government housing colonies such as those in Sarojini Nagar, Netaji Nagar and Nauroji Nagar, has replaced ageing two-storey units with imposing office blocks and residential high-rises.

For long-time residents, the transformation evokes unease. A retired government employee from Sarojini Nagar said the loss of green spaces and the charm of old quarters has been difficult to witness. “These colonies were never glamorous, but they felt like home – they were open, breathable, familiar. The new towers look impressive, but they do not feel like the Delhi we knew.”

Younger residents, however, view the new skyline differently. A 32-year-old professional who recently moved into a high-rise in Moti Nagar describes the transition as overdue. “Growing up, we always looked to Gurugram or Noida for modern housing. For the first time, Delhi itself is offering that. It feels like the city is finally catching up.”

The divide reflects a broader question: what should Delhi’s skyline represent? Should the Capital retain its decades-old subdued silhouette, or embrace a new metropolitan scale befitting a city of more than 20 million people? Planners argue that answers will depend on how responsibly the city navigates the next decade of construction. Infrastructure capacity, environmental resilience, mobility networks and heritage safeguards will all determine whether the new skyline becomes a symbol of progress or a source of strain.

Vertical growth for a city like Delhi may be entirely unavoidable, but its character – whether haphazard or harmonious – will define how the Capital is experienced by generations to come.