India, Aug. 28 -- On a crisp November afternoon in 1990, the living room of a modest two-bedroom flat in Mayur Vihar Phase I was transformed into a makeshift wedding hall. Neighbours strung marigold garlands across the ceiling, plated laddoos were distributed on borrowed trays, and people hummed film songs while waiting for the bride to appear. The bride on that day, Sunita Kapoor, now 62, remembers the scene vividly. "It was not grand, but it was the kind of warmth small gatherings of close friends and families brought. Everyone pitched in - someone lent us lights, someone brought extra chairs," she recalled, seated in the same flat more than three decades later, where she now lives with her elderly mother. The house was the pride of her family. Her father bought it in 1981 for just over Rs.60,000, four years after it was constructed by the Delhi Development Authority (DDA). Since then, it has become more than an address: it was the backdrop to Sunita's childhood, her marriage, and her children's memories of "nani ka ghar". "This house has seen every version of me - daughter, bride, mother, and now someone starting afresh. I've lived in several other houses too, but nothing quite matches up," said Kapoor. Across Delhi, thousands of families have similar stories in similar flats. In the late 1970s and 1980s, flats made by the Delhi Development Authority (DDA) symbolised a new promise for middle-class Indians: the first wave of affordable, planned housing in a city that was only beginning its population surge. But half a century later, these buildings - once the bedrock of Delhi's housing story - are creaking under the weight of time. The paint has dulled, staircases cracked, drains clogged, and damp has crept into the walls. Windows cling to rusted hinges, and pipes leak in brown streaks down facades. The dream is now visibly decaying. On June 12, HT reported that a government-industry task force recommended that all DDA colonies over 50 years old - this covers at least 30 neighbourhoods - may need to be reconstructed to ensure safety. Thousands of families could be displaced, if only temporarily. Not everyone is convinced. When DDA was created in 1957, Delhi was still very much living in the shadow of Partition. Refugee colonies dominated large swathes of the city, and housing shortages were acute. The first Master Plan, drawn in 1962, promised rational, affordable development. While the first DDA colonies sprang up in the city in the late '60s, it wasn't until the early '80s - particularly in the run up to the 1982 Asian Games held here - that DDA colonies became synonymous with the modern look Delhi was quickly embracing: boxy three-storey walk-ups with mosaic-tiled interiors, narrow staircases, and small balconies. These houses were not architectural marvels, they were never meant to be. But they were efficient and modern. In the early 1980s, Delhi was a city rapidly embracing a modern metropolitan look - along came the first flyovers, stadiums such as Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium and Indira Gandhi Indoor Stadium, wide boulevards, colour television, and the arrival of the Maruti 800. Two years after the Asian Games, Appu Ghar - Delhi's beloved amusement park - was thrown open to the public. And with those, came DDA's mass housing colonies, first in Mayur Vihar, Saket, Sheikh Sarai, and Vasant Kunj, and later throughout the city. Bhawna Dandona, a conservation architect, said that stylistically, DDA introduced a language that was modern, but simple and functional - one that later became synonymous with Delhi's middle class. "It lacked major embellishments, but was not sparse. DDA utilised a variety of innovative standardised, modular, mass-produced materials and techniques. Prefabricated assemblies manufactured by the Hindustan Housing Factory in Delhi were used frequently," she said. For families moving into those flats, the city was being reinvented in the prosperous vision of growing India. In Old Delhi's Chandni Chowk, 94-year-old Azeezuddin still lives in Dujana House, one of DDA's first complexes, built in 1969. The four blocks of 20 flats each are now crumbling - damp walls, missing stair railings, and chunks of plaster lying on the ground. "We are fine with repairs as long as we are not being asked to leave. We have no place to go. I have lived here for more than 50 years now. DDA should fix the building, pipes, drainage and so on, but where will we go if they decide to demolish the whole building and make more houses?" DDA flats were modest, but they carried ambition. And along the way, they accumulated stories. Today, these now-decaying flats hold stories inextricable from Delhi's legacy as a springboard for dreams. And in these flats lie stories that have become folklore, almost urban legends, for the city. For instance, the DDA colony in Safdarjung Development Area (SDA) has a Shah Rukh Khan story. Flat 223 in C7 Naveen Niketan flats was once home to a young Khan. Amrendra George, 54, lived on the floor below Khan through the 1970s and 1980s. "Whenever he would return late, he would climb up the drainpipe and enter through the window. There are a lot of fond memories, including him playing cricket and football every day right outside these flats. He once dropped me to school in his chocolate-coloured Fiat." Khan returned to visit what was once home late one night in 2017. "He left a note saying he was here but did not want to disturb anyone, and that he was simply showing his childhood home to his children," said George, whose family has held on to that note, as well as Khan's wedding card invite. And like the ambitions of one of the biggest movie stars in the country - so has the demand for these houses soared. A three-room set in SDA sold for Rs.28,000 in the late 1960s; today, it fetches upwards of Rs.2.5 crore. "Due to the pre-fabricated structure, you can't even drive a nail in the wall without a special carpenter," said George and added that while problems are few, infrastructural upgrades will help. "What people need is clarity from the DDA - on what they plan to do with these older flats." The physical decay, however, is undeniable. In south, central and west Delhi, DDA flats were built before 1975 and these include a residential block that once housed a sterilisation camp during the Emergency; and one where erstwhile jailors from the British-era, known as Rai Bahadurs, lived. But what binds them today is visibly, rapidly fraying infrastructure. Take Dujana House in Chandni Chowk for instance - four identical blocks of 20 apartments each. When HT visited the complex, two blocks had missing stair railings, walls were damp all around, and plaster was crumbling. Residents still recall the sterilisation drives during the Emergency. "Officers would knock on doors and ask wives to bring their husbands down for vasectomy," Azeezuddin said quietly. The buildings carry not just memories, but scars of Delhi's political past. In west Delhi's Janakpuri, Block C4A - built in 1971 - faces a shortage of parking, blocked drains, and crumbling facades. "We still use the same underground tanks and booster pumps built 50 years ago," said Sanjay Sachdeva, head of the residents' association. "The water isn't clean, the drains are clogged, and we worry every monsoon. But there's still no clarity on upgrades, if we even get any." In south Delhi's Bhim Nagri, once built for war widows and service families, moss has taken over the walls. "This is a small, green, close-knit colony. We've maintained the parks ourselves," said RWA secretary Sundeep Bahl. "But DDA must repair without uprooting us. This is not just a colony -- it's our identity." The new redevelopment push promises safety and modern amenities, but many residents are hesitant. "Where will we go while they rebuild?" asked Raiyeez Khan, who lives in Dujana House. "My father sold jewellery to buy this flat. We've seen no government repairs for decades. Why should we trust them now?" Others fear losing their communities. "These are small, close-knit colonies," said Bahl of Bhim Nagri. "Neighbours know each other, children play together, shops downstairs are part of life. In private builder societies, you don't even know who lives next door." Photographer Parthiv Shah, who has lived in DDA flats for two decades, echoed the sentiment. "The kirana shop downstairs, the sabziwala who comes every evening, neighbours who know when you're away-- this sense of belonging is rare. In towers in Gurugram, you get facilities but not community." Delhi's DDA colonies are not the only ones ageing. Across India, post-Independence public housing - from Mumbai's Maharashtra Housing and Area Development Authority, or MHADA, flats to Kolkata's government quarters - faces similar dilemmas. They were built quickly, cheaply, for a rising middle class. Few were designed to last a century - or with that foresight in mind, at the very least. Former town planner AK Jain, who was part of the DDA between 1976 and 2009, and served as DDA's commissioner (planning) between 2003 and 2009, said that the pre-fabricated flats were a bold experiment at the time but were later dropped due to high costs. "We later moved towards conventional RCC construction. After this wave, areas like Saket, Vasant Kunj and Alaknanda were planned to be more cost effective but also spacious," he said. The result: decades on, pipes are leaking, pavements are encroached, parking wars are common and repairs are patchwork, often by residents themselves. And yet, demolishing them outright risks erasing the social fabric they nurtured. Experts say a middle path may be possible: strengthening structures, upgrading utilities, and adding lifts without mass demolition. Dandona said today, even if some flats appeared dated and need maintenance, DDA's housing remained a cultural phenomenon for Delhi. "They are identifiers of Delhi's late 20th-century modernity, embodying the ambitions of the masses. More than residences, they represent a shared heritage of the city's transformation, rich repositories of memory and a reminder that even functional, everyday architecture can be the lasting part of a city's heritage," she said. For millions like Sunita Kapoor, discussion about reconstruction is more than just policy. It is about identity. She lives in the house with her two daughters, and her mother. Three generations under one roof - a DDA roof. "My parents spent their lives here. I was married here. Though my daughters are getting a taste of DDA life but they have missed out on the best years here," she said....