Delhi Diaries from Universe 25: Crowded, Cranky, and Kinda Cute

The Harsh Reality of Life: Are We All Mice in Delhi’s Universe 25?

Every day I step into Delhi, I feel like I’ve accidentally walked into a live-action social experiment—one that the universe forgot to end. The crowds, the chaos, the honking, the “Sorry, no change” moments—it’s all too familiar.

Turns out, someone did run this experiment. In the 1960s, ethologist John B. Calhoun built a mouse utopia called Universe 25: unlimited food, water, and nesting space—no cats, no rent, no traffic. In other words, paradise.

And what happened?
They destroyed themselves.

So naturally, I looked around Delhi and thought, “Hmm… déjà vu?”

 Universe 25 v2.0: Delhi Edition

Calhoun’s mice started as eight cute roommates. Within months, they turned into 2,000 stressed tenants in a 1-BHK. At first, all was well. Then came the chaos—fights, isolation, grooming addiction.

If this doesn’t sound like your average Delhi life—then you’re not commuting from Noida/Gurgaon/Faridabad 

The males fought for space. The females stopped nurturing their young. Some mice just sat in corners, cleaning themselves obsessively—Calhoun called them the beautiful ones.
Today, we call them influencers.

 The Behavioral Sink: Delhi Metro in a Nutshell

In the experiment, even when free space was available, mice clumped together. Sounds like every metro platform at Rajiv Chowk at 6 p.m.

Humans do it too. We squeeze into overcrowded compartments because “the next train might be worse.” One hand holds the phone, the other your dignity. Someone’s backpack is in your ribcage, and the guy next to you is watching motivational reels titled “How to Stay Calm in Chaos.”

Welcome to the behavioral sink, Delhi-style—overconnected, overstimulated, and emotionally undernourished.

 Rudeness: The New Delhi Dialect

Calhoun’s mice got aggressive. We got sarcastic.
Road rage? Check. Queue-cutting? Check. “Bhaiya, ek plate golgappa, par jaldi dena”?—that’s our polite version of territorial dominance.

We yell, honk, side-eye, and tweet outrage by noon—then attend yoga classes for inner peace by 7 p.m. It’s not that we’ve become rude; we’re just emotionally overbooked.

Think about it: in a city where people spend three hours in traffic daily, patience isn’t a virtue—it’s an endangered species.

The Rise of the “Beautiful Ones”

In Universe 25, some mice stopped engaging entirely. They just preened themselves—flawless, detached, unbothered.

Sound familiar?
We’ve turned into selfie-ready versions of those mice—posting quotes about “self-love and boundaries” while ghosting half our contacts.

The more polished our online lives become, the messier the real ones get. We spend hours editing a caption but can’t find two minutes to call our parents. Our grooming habits have evolved—from fur-licking to filter-selecting.

The Digital Overcrowding Problem

Calhoun’s enclosure had physical walls. Ours have Wi-Fi.

Every scroll is a crowd. Every comment section is a brawl. Billions of us share one global feed, screaming for attention like the mice that huddled in a corner for warmth they didn’t need.

Social media is our new cage—overcrowded, hyperactive, and strangely comforting.

We keep refreshing, hoping to feel connected, and end up lonelier than ever.

At least the mice didn’t have notifications.

Abundance Without Purpose

The most haunting part of Calhoun’s study?
The mice stopped reproducing—not because they couldn’t, but because they didn’t want to.

They had everything, yet nothing to strive for. Sound like modern adulthood?

We’ve replaced meaning with convenience.
We don’t gather stories anymore; we collect screenshots. We don’t chase dreams; we chase weekend brunches. We’ve built a world where everything is available—except purpose.

And like the mice, we quietly stop creating, connecting, and caring.

Escaping Delhi’s Universe 25

Here’s the twist—unlike Calhoun’s mice, we have a choice.
We can redesign our enclosures.

Start small:

• Smile at the guard who checks your bag 400 times a day.
• Let someone merge in traffic without performing a honk symphony.
• Look up from your screen; the world won’t collapse (yet).
• Go outside without the need to post “feeling grateful” on Instagram.
  

Civility isn’t weakness—it’s rebellion. In a society drowning in noise, kindness is punk rock.

Final Reflection: Delhi Doesn’t Need a Lab—It Is One

Every evening, as the sun dips behind the smog-wrapped skyline, I imagine Calhoun peeking down from the heavens saying, “Yep, same results, just bigger enclosures.”

We’re the only species that can see the behavioral sink forming—and still hit “snooze.”

Maybe the real lesson of Universe 25 isn’t about overcrowding. It’s about purpose.
When life turns into survival of the rudest, the only way to evolve is to care again—loudly, awkwardly, inconveniently.

So next time you’re stuck in Delhi traffic, take a deep breath and think:
You’re not trapped. You’re participating in the longest-running human experiment.

And the only way to pass?
Don’t act like the mice. Act like the human you still remember being.

WITH WHOM DID YOU BUILD

“What you are building never matters as much as who you are building it with.” Tony Fadell

In his book Build, Tony Fadell provides insights through his personal anecdotes about the most impactful products and people of the 20^th century. Even after working with stalwarts of Silicon Valley such as Steve Jobs and Bill Campbell, Tony gives his own unorthodox advice to excel in leadership; he says one does not have to reinvent everything from scratch to grow or make something great. “One grows from pursuit only when we care about it, whether it’s work or relationship.”

Although the book is popular as an advice encyclopaedia, to me it appealed more as a personal memoir where the author explores the human aspects of entrepreneurships. When you work as a leader, as the head of an enterprise, what matters the most is these attributes of human relationships that involve continuous exchange of ideas, personalities, aspirations, priviledges and pure dreams. There are very intricate technicalities about how to germinate a small idea and then shape it into something that will be adopted as a product by all.

Reading this book reminded me once again of my days at Sainik School Imphal. As Tony says, once you start caring for an enterprise, it is difficult to look at it as a non- living thing. It is the people involved in the organisation that starts reminding you of why development needs to be done. During the Covid Pandemic, when I moved to Imphal with my family, first look at the vast perimeter of the school campus, surrounded by the lush green paddy fields, vast water body attracted our hearts.

The soothing image of the lush green grounds, welcoming hands and smiling faces of Officers made the stay increasingly worthwhile every day, even when the Pandemic had forced most of us to be under isolation. Our joy knew no bounds when coinciding with our arrival, we got the news of selection of 12 Cadets in the NDA from the previous batch. Our faith in the school and the latent talent in it got stronger once my husband met with the team of teaching and Support staff led by the then Senior Master Mr Romel, Quarter master Mr Puina, the then Mess Manager Mr Saratchandra, and PRO Mr Ashok.

Coming from the modern landscape of capital city of the country, the simplicity of this capital city located within a valley was very satisfying for me as a mother.  While I kept pestering him about how unmelodious the choir group was, how naughty the seniors were, and how one could make the boring menu which they called balanced and nutritious a little more inclusive for all cadets, as the Principal, Sainik School Imphal, my husband worried about the inequality of opportunities as compared to other Sainik schools: the lack of infrastructure inside the campus: with limited connectivity to outside world and technology, the streets without well-constructed roads, hard surface jogging path for the cadets, dilapidated cadets’ mess, open bathing & washing bays, and dormitories; most importantly, age-old residential quarters of the staff members. He could not find himself to demand excellence from the employees as he saw them as someone whose own personal lives were distorted due to the lack of technology, infrastructure and resources.

Sainik Schools, as we all know are residential public schools working under the aegis of Ministry of Defence, GoI and hence all the essential staff members are live inside the school campus with their families until their retirement. Sometimes employees spend nearly half of their lives living inside these staff quarters. And one look at the old dingy, quarters broke our hearts comparing the facilities we had enjoyed as Defence officers all over the country. The absence of cadets due to the pandemic, gave him the time to think, plan, and execute some minor repairs into these quarters. While he started to get into the technical formalities of these repairs; a paradigm change in the system came with the induction of girl cadets in all Sainik Schools.

Being the mother of a daughter, I was very happy with this news, while it was like a nightmare to my husband. The list of tasks to be done got longer and longer every day as it was not only the attitude but even basic infrastructure like the Girl Cadets Hostels, support staff recruitment, and additional arrangements in the classrooms, mess and grounds that had to be planned, initiated, and implemented. Grooming of the staff members towards gender sensitivity started. But much was required when it came to infrastructure.

A pleasant surprise was the response school administration got from the state administration, especially Shri Rajen the then Minister of Education, Shri Biswajit Singh Minister of Public Works Department and Shri Letpao Haokip, Minister of YAS and, of course Shri N Biren, the then Chief Minister, Govt of Manipur State. With their vision and positive attitude, Sainik School Imphal became the first Sainik school to get a fund sanctioned in the state budget and the building construction too started on the 50^th Foundation Day of the school: 07 October.

While I was busy looking after the emotional needs of the family members during the period of Isolation during the Covid Pandemic, again the state authorities came to our rescue when the CMO’s team led by Dr Poly conducted Free Vaccination Drives for all the employees and their families. With the schools reopening and the entry of girl cadets, my husband became busy in uniting the team to achieve academic excellence, within the state of resources that he had. And, as expected, one fine day the old infrastructure gave away when one of the hostels had a major short circuit due to over heating of old copper wires and turned into a major fire outbreak.

In front of everyone’s eyes, the wooden structure of the building caught fire, spread rapidly, and came down as ashes within a span of 04 hours. It was killing to watch Mr Basanta, the Librarian, our young, Braveheart get burns on his chest while saving the personal belongings of the cadets. With the media lingering around the campus wanting to know about the reasons for the fire, worried parents, shocked cadets, anxious staff members and concerned families; that day was an excruciatingly long day, and especially painful for me when I saw my husband with his team running helter-skelter inside the burnt hostel trying to save the belongings of the cadets without realising nails stuck inside their burnt shoes. That day again reminded me of the fact that organisations contain not just buildings but sentiments, blood, sweat and tears of humans working in it.

“Every obstacle yields to stern resolve.” Keeping this dictum in mind, working hours became longer for the next few months, until my husband found ways to rebuild the broken dreams. The complete support staff supported him in filing reports, getting additional documents, completing investigations, and coordinating with the government agencies. Just when things started to normalise, more hurdles came up with the water scarcity in the state and the sudden, unfortunate ethnic riots.

Now all the hope that was there for repairs of the hostel through the state government agencies, became bleak as the state machinery came to a halt due to the violence and destruction caused in different parts of the state. School reopening got delayed due to the unsafe neighbourhood and once again the teaching staff got busy with online classes for the new academic session, while the administrative staff worked out how to manage the maintenance and repair works with the non- functioning local market.

With Maira Paibis as the night vigilantes against the attacking tribes in the neighbouring villages, safety of the family members inside the school campus became the only concern for everyone. Many employees (including an IAF Officer) had to resign, retire, or leave the school campus due to the evolving ethnic dynamics of the state. It also affected the admission process of the school as parents of cadets from other states felt insecure about the situation prevailing in the state. Life and especially development work, maintenance, repairs, and even normal living got affected. Still, the team came up with bright ideas to keep the staff engaged and emotionally balanced: Singju breaks for the ladies, Potlucks, followed by jungle trails over the weekends for the families, camps for the NCC cadets, sports events became the norm and to some extent, the Happiness Quotient of the employees was enhanced.

With the infrastructure breaking down, the staff members engulfed in ethnic identities, state machinery coming to a halt; it was only the innocent smiling faces and inquisitive eyes of the cadets that kept our resolve to perform and achieve the best for them. My husband tried knocking the doors of all kinds of philanthropists, starting from the Alumni, PTA, sister agencies from Defense forces, NGOs to Government agencies. He succeeded in getting scholarships for the worthy cadets from affected areas through the Ex-cadets’ associations, Alumni, Parents, and agencies such as Assam Rifles.

Then came the most fruitful request from the representatives of the Ministry of DONER who had visited the school during the Governor’s visit and were touched by the hospitality and the budding talent of the cadets. The school administration was asked to submit proposals regarding the pressing needs of infrastructure which could be developed in the school. A lot of brainstorming sessions were conducted with the teaching staff, support staff, families, and cadets about what their pressing needs were. The reactions were similar: we needed a conducive educational environment driven by safe basic amenities such as robust perimeter wall, water storage tanks, and hygienic accommodation areas for all.

The proposals were immediately converted into crisp, impressive PowerPoint presentations and supporting documents by the administrative staff and my Warrior husband led team succeeded in convincing the Ministry officials about the urgency of these projects. We forgot about the whole thing once the Board exams commenced and we donned the role of parents for our daughter as well as all the other cadets of classes X and XII.  And then came the time to show gratitude for the selfless service of some of our retiring employees: Mr Ashok, the Art Master, Mr PD James, the Social Studies master, Mr Mahmuddin, a general employee, and so on.

Finally, it was time to pack our bags as Indian Air Force beckoned my husband to move on his next assignment. Life became busy with me living separated for the first time in my married life with my daughter and extended family without my husband. News from the Sainik school became rare as I immersed myself in my new life. Occasionally, when some old cadets or employees dropped an Instagram reel or memory of good old times, thoughts went back to unfinished work at the school.

And then came a pleasant surprise when I saw a recent tweet from the Ministry of DONER about development of allied infrastructure in Sainik School Imphal under NESIDS (OTRI) and my heart leaped with joy when I saw a small side note: Sanctioned amount: 21.814 crore. The only words that could come out of mouth were: Hurrah, Hurrah, Hurrah, Sainik school Imphal.

And once again, Tony Fadell’s words ring in my mind: “Your product’s story is not just about words, it is about its design, its features, images and videos, quotes from customers, conversations with support agents. It is the sum of what people see and feel about this thing that you have created.” It is the “Why” that drives the “What” and for “Whom”. And someone who leads a team just does not help people do their jobs, they help them shape their lives, their families.

The Moralometer.... Flawless Advocates of Ourselves, Merciless Judges of Others!

We’re all excellent lawyers when defending our own mistakes—and ruthless, unforgiving judges when condemning others’.

Recently, I found myself in a discussion where a senior gentleman had remarried—to a woman 15 years younger, who was also previously married. The tea room quickly turned into a courtroom, with some treating it as lighthearted banter while others  delivered harsh verdicts, as if the couple had committed some unspeakable crime against humanity.

That’s when the idea of a Moralometer hit me. Imagine if we had a device to measure just how selectively people apply their moral outrage. One minute, they’re joking about it; the next, they’re acting like divine arbiters of righteousness, ready to burn someone at the stake—conveniently forgetting their own skeletons.

Wouldn’t it be fun to scan the critics first? Just to see where their needle lands before they pass judgment?

Oh, look at them! Having an affair? Disgraceful!

But me? Oh, I had my reasons. 

Context matters, You See.

We all walk around with a built-in moralometer, an internal moral compass we keep meticulously calibrated—to judge everyone except ourselves. And, of course, this gadget works overtime on public figures: politicians, government servants, newsmakers, colleagues, neighbors… basically anyone who isn’t us.

Now, imagine if a real moralometer actually existed—a pocket-sized device that could scan someone and instantly spit out a precise reading of their moral purity. Point it at a criminal? Deep red, seething with evil. Point it at your best friend? Lush green, practically a saint.

Wouldn’t that be useful? A quick pre-marriage scan—before the vows, before the drama. Actually, why wait? Just bring it to the first date and save yourself some trouble. Hiring a new employee? Scan. Choosing a business partner? Scan.

But here’s the hilarious paradox: despite no such machine existing, we all act as if we have one.

We leave a lovely social evening, and what’s the first thing we do? Judge the host. The decor, the wine, the snacks, the company—everything is subject to our forensic analysis. We always just “know” who are the saints, who are the devils, and where everyone else falls in between—except, of course, for ourselves.

Which brings me to an unsettling thought:

Maybe judging moral character is nobody’s business.

Or… maybe it is? If morality is about how we treat others, then perhaps it’s very much everyone’s business. If morality is about how we might behave in hypothetical situations, well—doesn’t that also matter? Wouldn’t a future spouse, a boss, a judge, or even a casual acquaintance want to know if someone has the general tendency to cheat, lie, exploit, and backstab?

Ah, but here’s the catch. In the real world, moral character is often completely irrelevant to success.

 Or worse—sometimes inversely correlated. Some of the most successful business leaders, politicians, actors, and artists have a moral compass that doesn’t just wobble—it’s broken, tossed into a ditch, and set on fire.

In system which we live, having a shaky moral compass isn’t a problem—it’s a badge of honor. 

The smarter you play the game, the better your chances, while the honest and idealistic ones just look cute but clueless. Morality? That’s just an old-fashioned idea, like actually reading the terms and conditions before clicking “Agree.”

So what does all this mean? Maybe your judgments of others say more about you than about them.

Consider this---

If someone constantly complains toyoulu about others, what do you think they do when you’re not around? The odds are—you’re next.

So, the next time someone judges you?

Yawn.

When they misunderstand you?

Smile.

When they underestimate you?

Laugh.

When they condemn you?

Ignore.

When they envy you?

Celebrate.

When they oppose you?

Win.

And if all else fails, remember: The moralometer doesn’t exist, but hypocrisy? 

Oh, that one comes factory-installed in every one of US

The Halo Illusion: How Good Looks Hide Bad Intentions

When Good Looks Deceive: Rethinking Our Inner Judge

“He seemed nice.”
“She looked trustworthy.”
“I just had a feeling…”

How often have we said these things—and been completely wrong?

I used to believe my instinct about people was almost foolproof. Friends said it, colleagues affirmed it—I had that so-called “sixth sense” for judging character.

Until recently, I didn’t.

💡 The Scam That Shook My Confidence

A young man, perhaps in his twenties, came to service my Aqua Guard. He looked clean, spoke politely, seemed informed. After a brief check, he said the unit was unserviceable.

“Why don’t you take an AMC for ₹8500 or ₹5500?” he suggested.
I agreed.

He called once after taking the payment… and then vanished.

When I contacted Eureka Forbes directly, I was told: there is no such service center.

Yes, I’d been conned.
But the real sting? That I’d fallen for it—not because he was clever, but because he looked trustworthy.

That’s when it hit me: my inner judge wasn’t objective—it was biased.

🧠 Enter: The Halo Effect (and Its Evil Twin)

Psychologists call this the Halo Effect—when someone is physically attractive or behaves confidently, we assume they are also good, honest, competent.

And the Devil Effect?
It makes us assume someone is dishonest, awkward, or “creepy” simply because they look or act outside our comfort zone.

So:

• A neat, confident man scams me.
• A heavily tattooed person gets wrongly avoided.
• A woman with a facial deformity gets silently judged in public.

Sounds familiar?

👁 Let’s Talk About Your Inner Judge

Be honest—ever done this?

✅ Quick quiz:

• Have you ever avoided someone just because of their looks?
• Have you instantly liked someone because of their smile or dress?
• Have you assumed someone with a disability was less capable?

We all have. And that doesn’t make us evil.
But it does mean we need to upgrade our thinking.

🚨 The Real Danger Isn't Who You Think

We rely too heavily on what I call our “Creep Radar”—but it’s not detecting actual danger.

Instead, it’s tuned to superficial signals:

• Messy hair? Suspicious.
• Awkward social cues? Creepy.
• Confident voice, nice shirt? Must be reliable.

In truth, your radar is judging difference, not danger.

👣 Here’s What We Can Do, Together

• Talk to the person with the nose ring and dyed pink hair.
• Hire the hardworking woman with a limb difference—not out of pity, but because she’s capable.
• Teach your children not to stare at facial differences, but to see the person behind them.
• Pause before labelling someone a “creep”—and ask: Why do I really feel this way?

📝 What I Learned the Hard Way

I got fooled. But in the process, I learned:

• Looks can lie.
• Politeness can be a mask.
• Our instincts aren’t perfect—they’re programmed with bias.

And perhaps most importantly:
The real creeps aren’t always the ones who look unusual—
They’re often the ones who blend in perfectly.

🎯 Challenge for You

Next time you feel an instant judgement about someone, ask yourself:

• Is this about them?
• Or is it about my conditioning?

Because real wisdom lies not in reading faces,
But in recognizing our own filters.

Let’s break free of the Halo Trap.

Psychological Time: The Netflix Series You Never Asked For

Trapped in Time, Running from Time, and Missing the Damn Moment

You know what’s wild?

There was a recent phase in my life when time just... stopped. Like, completely. Every second dragged like it was trying to break the world record for “slowest moment ever.” I was stuck in this loop, thinking, “Will this misery ever end?” Time felt like that one clingy guest at a party who doesn’t get the hint to leave.

But suddenly? It’s like someone hit the fast-forward button on my life. The period have disappeared faster than my salary in a month. I blink, and boom—months gone. Suddenly, I’m full of energy, vibing with life, wondering if I accidentally drank some sort of cosmic Red Bull.

What changed?

Let me introduce you to the shady cousin of real time:

  Psychological Time.Meet Psychological Time: The Drama Queen in Your Brain

You know how your body’s in one place, but your brain has already written three future disaster scripts and revisited that embarrassing thing you said in 2009?

Yeah. That’s psychological time.

It’s the brain’s way of hijacking the moment and tossing you into either:

• The Museum of Regrets (Past)
• Or the Hall of Horrible What-Ifs (Future)

Meanwhile, life is standing there, sipping coffee, going, “Um, you good bro?”

Clock Time vs. Psychological Time (A Sassy Comparison)

• Clock Time is the adult in the room. It helps you show up to your dental appointment, catch flights, and meet deadlines. It’s responsible. Boring, but useful.

• Psychological Time is that overthinking gremlin living rent-free in your head, whispering things like,
  “Remember that awkward text from last year?”
  “What if your boss hates you?”
  “Maybe that mole is fatal.”

And suddenly, you're spiraling. Not because anything actually happened… but because your brain decided to hold a full-blown anxiety parade.

Why We Keep Getting Stuck (and Can't Find the Exit Sign)

Let me tell you a tragic tale: I watched one bad news clip and spent the next three hours emotionally processing it like it was my own personal crisis. I mean, sure, I was just sipping tea in my living room, but my mind was basically in a warzone.

Now imagine it's not the news—it’s something personal. A breakup.  That awkward whatsap call where you said “Thanks you.”
Boom. You're trapped in your mind’s own Netflix drama: “Overthinker Diaries: Season 7.”

How to Break Up with Psychological Time (Without Ghosting Reality)

Look, I’m not saying ignore your problems and start petting unicorns. But maybe—just maybe—we don’t have to obsessively rewatch the same tragic brain movie every day.

Here’s the cheat code:

1. Use Clock Time like a boss – Plan, schedule, show up.
2. Avoid marinating in thoughts – If there's nothing you can do right now, take a breath and stop doom-scrolling your own brain.
3. Be where your butt is – Sounds weird, but think about it. If your body is in the kitchen, and your brain is in 2032, you’ve officially time-traveled… and not in a cool way.

Present Moment ...Now Streaming , Limited Time offer

Want peace of mind?
Want to stop fighting invisible dragons all day?

Try this: Just be here. With your snack. Or your task. Or your nap. Whatever it is, do it like it’s the only thing that exists.

Because honestly, it is

“The butterfly counts not months but moments, and has time enough.”
— Some poetic insect, probably chilling in a garden, not worried about their email inbox

So maybe we should stop measuring life in deadlines, worries, and mental reruns. Maybe we should just count the good coffee sips, the songs we vibed to, and the tiny wins.

Time’s weird. But present? That’s magic.