If you walk down the winding path that cuts across the Mehrauli Archaeological Park — a lush green patch, dotted with a cluster of monuments in the midst of bustling South Delhi — you’ll soon find yourself at the recently restored 16th-century stepwell: the Rajon ki Baoli. Sandwiched between the historic settlement of Mehrauli and the Qutub complex, the park is a palimpsest of pre-Islamic, Sultanate-period, Mughal- and colonial-era architectural styles. The baoli, itself, is a great example of the Delhi Sultanate’s Indo-Islamic architectural idiom. It was commissioned around 1506 by Daulat Khan Lodi, who was an administrator serving under Sikandar Lodi (r. 1489–1517) of the Lodi dynasty. Today, the restored baoli stands as a significant repository of traditional wisdom on how medieval settlements sourced and managed water for daily needs.
Past a small courtyard, 66 simple stone steps descend to the water’s edge. To the west lies a mosque and the tomb of Khwaja Mohammad. A closer inspection reveals the complexity of the four-storeyed subterranean structure — reaching a depth of 13.4 metres. In its design, the baoli follows a fairly typical plan. It has two parts: the vertical shaft — an ordinary open well — at its core, and the expressed stepwell at its periphery, into which surplus water spills over with the shift in seasons. The base, or water-holding area — where the large retainer walls and steps are built in — uses the hardy, erosion-resistant Delhi quartzite, which is difficult to carve. By contrast, the superstructure — the parts seen above the water level, like portions of the tomb and the mosque — are built in a combination of sandstone and limestone. These are lighter and finer materials that lend themselves to ornamentation, like the stuccoed medallions on the top tier’s arched colonnades that catch the eye of every visitor.
Over a two-year period, the baoli underwent a meticulous restoration and rejuvenation process — a combined effort by the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) and World Monuments Fund India (WMFI) Association, supported by the TCS Foundation. It was opened to the public in May 2025, and is part of the WMFI’s Historic Water Systems of India project: an initiative to address rising water insecurity by reviving traditional water capture and storage infrastructure.
Mohan S Rao, a landscape architect and environmental design practitioner, was part of the team that worked on ensuring a stable supply of uncontaminated water at the baoli. He explains that the term “repair” has two connotations. “One is to restore and revive the health of the system, which in this case is the quality of water flow and its long-term availability. The second is the physical part, which is [repairing] the actual space and the structure itself. It’s restoring the health of the system that becomes more critical, because if I actually have a fantastically conserved stepwell, but no water [in it], nobody’s going to value it in any way,” he says.
For Rao, restoring the functionality of the stepwell’s sophisticated engineering system lends it immense contemporary relevance, given its urban context: “The fact that this is very much in the heart of a large metropolitan area, [means] you have very diverse demands on the site — from everyday joggers to bird-watchers and tourists, to people from the villages in the community who continue to value it as a social space.”
Its potential for revival as a water source was one reason why the Rajon ki Baoli was selected for the project. Rao explains, “This being part of a larger archaeological complex, there were fewer externalities — which means there were no settlements; no villages, at least within the 200- to 300-metre radius.” The baoli proved to be an ideal site to demonstrate the value in restoring heritage water systems. “This is not about creating water for drinking by reviving a well, but more about leveraging that knowledge system to see how you can look at passive ways of managing water. When I say passive, it means you don’t construct dams, you don’t pump water — this is how nature works.” According to Rao, the value of groundwater, of wells and stepwells, lies in what he calls “resilience” in minimising externalities. These water systems work at a decentralised level because no single agency can control them.
Stepwells are found across different geographies in India, not just in arid regions. While their engineering, design and ornamentation can vary — largely depending on the building material available, and existing hydrological and geological conditions — what unites them is their shared purpose: “Essentially, they are part of a large toolkit that humans have evolved towards water security,” says Rao. “Even where large civilisations germinated from being on the banks of a river for various reasons, they could not afford to be completely dependent on rivers as a source of water. So the only long-term solution that humans have figured out is to extract what is technically soil moisture, also called groundwater. What qualifies as groundwater is that [water extracted from soil] which is constantly replenished by the annual [monsoon] cycle, in the Indian context.” The other commonality among the diversity of stepwell typologies is their significance in community life. “It was not just water infrastructure, it was also a social space. So you celebrated the availability of water, and hence created a [structure] around it — which sanctified the space in a way.”
The Rajon ki Baoli too — apart from providing water for cooking, bathing, and irrigation for locals — would also have been a social hub. “The term ‘Rajon ki Baoli’ is confused to mean ‘raja’ [king], which is not the case. It’s ‘rajaon,’ which refers to traditional masons and craftsmen [who used the stepwell]. It was adjoining a colony of craftsmen who were in all probability the ones who worked on structures in the Mehrauli complex — that’s the broad timeline. But the structure of Rajon ki Baoli, and the way it is positioned, also makes it very obvious that it was not just a water source for the local community, like most stepwells. It was actually a placeholder for a larger serai [a resting place for travellers and traders] because it was on the outskirts of the Qutub complex.”
Despite their ritual and social importance, most stepwells across India eventually fell into disuse with the advent of dams and canals. With the availability of piped water, stepwells witnessed neglect, vandalism, and irresponsible waste disposal. “Typically, [by the] end of the 19th century to the early 20th century is when, across the country, one sees a gradual decline in the health of stepwells. It’s a direct consequence of industrialisation,” Rao confirms.
A few years ago, the Rajon ki Baoli too was in a state of decay — the groundwater was contaminated and skirting the uppermost steps; the stones were damaged; and the flow of water was clogged by silt, garbage and debris. Once work began, the teams diverted sewerage through proper lines. They also consolidated and strengthened the stone structure, and cleaned and desilted the baoli. Aesthetic flourishes were restored by skilled artisans, using traditional material like lime mortar and plaster. One challenge in this process was the decision to avoid using industrial techniques to revive the water supply. “The idea in most good conservation projects is that you try and, if not mimic, at least stay true to the technologies that were extant at that time,” Rao elaborates. “So you may bring in new understandings, but you don’t bring in new technologies to revive that system.”
While conservation architect Ajaydeep Singh was responsible for restoring the structural integrity of the stepwell complex, Rao explored solutions to revive and maintain the water system in the long run. His work was focussed on two main aspects: “One, identifying possible sources [of groundwater contamination], controlling them and minimising the impact. Second, the actual functioning of the baoli itself. Traditional uses of the well are no longer prevalent, which actually becomes a problem because if there is no dynamic use of the water, it tends to stagnate. So you need to put strategies in place to make sure that you compensate for the lack of such continued usage. We used three systems: physical, chemical, and biological. The biological one was easy. For example, the introduction of certain species of turtle or fish activates the water and keeps it fresh — they eat away the mosquito larvae and algae. The chemical [we used] was a very gradual and minimal application of alum. Alum is a very simple chemical; once you introduce it, it takes away all the suspended particulate matter and coagulates it, which means that the water remains clear and free of algae. And the third part, the physical part — the only modern-day intervention, but nothing that is visible — is that we introduced aerators, which pump air into the water so that the oxygen content remains stable.”
To ensure consistent use, the team — led by architect and heritage management consultant Annabel Lopez — also collaborated with the Delhi Development Authority’s Horticulture Department to set up a system wherein water is drawn from the Rajon ki Baoli to maintain the gardens at the Mehrauli Archaeological Park.
The restored Rajon ki Baoli demonstrates how the revival of heritage water systems can recharge groundwater and enhance the microclimate, which addresses urgent concerns like rising urbanisation and disruption in rainfall patterns. Rao says, “More than any other time in history, I think it’s very critical that historic water systems are revived, because resources are a huge challenge and they will continue to be. The best way to manage resources and increase resilience is to see how people did it in the past with much fewer resources. There’s a certain wisdom embedded in it; it’s not technology per se, but the larger approach that is embedded in two very key concepts. One is the idea of decentralisation, because [for] communities, especially marginalised communities — the ones that are disconnected politically, economically, physically from the mainstream — this is just about the only path to long-term sustenance, and [through which] they can be completely independent. The other one, equally important, is the idea of water security and resilience. Compared to any other source that we have on the planet — rivers, dams, anything else — this [traditional water systems] is something that can be completely depended upon not to fail.”
The Rajon ki Baoli was one of five stepwells and cisterns identified in 2023 by the WMFI as showing high potential for positive impact through rehabilitation. Rao, who has worked on similar projects across India and the world, remains hopeful about preserving the cultural and ecological value of heritage water management systems. “I would say more than 90% of the extant wells are very, very easy to revive. The real hope is that each of these actually becomes a catalyst for further engagement with decentralised and resilient systems, in the way we value traditional knowledge — not just as a museum piece, but as a lived experience.”
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Mohan S Rao is the Principal Designer at Integrated Design (INDÉ), a research-based planning and design consultancy in Bengaluru.
Akshay Sharma is a Senior Editor for the Learning vertical at MAP Academy.
