This rant comes from frustrated commuter and reel sufferer I officially retired from driving a few months ago. Not because Delhi traffic had defeated me, but because I could no longer make peace with the digital foolery unfolding on its roads. We have all witnessed this modern vehicular behaviour: a car on a rare, gloriously empty stretch of road suddenly slows to a crawl. You try to manoeuvre past, expecting a breakdown or perhaps a driver having a minor existential crisis. But no. It is a WhatsApp message. Or an Instagram reel. Or a YouTube Short. Apparently, a quick bout of entertainment or engagement cannot wait, even if the rest of Delhi has to.If cars had feelings, they would be heartbroken. Imagine being a perfectly good machine, parked for 22 hours a day, waiting for your allotted two hours with your owner, only to discover that even that precious time is being stolen by a six-inch screen. The romance of driving is dead. The mobile phone has won.And this affliction (or affection in this case?) is wonderfully democratic. It cuts across private cars, cabs, autos and even trucks. As a passenger, you get a front-row seat to the same madness. I am convinced some drivers actively manifest red lights. That little red glow is no longer a traffic signal but a 120-second VIP pass to Instagram reels. Why watch one video when you can squeeze in three before the light turns green? The queue of cars behind you can always wait. It is not as if anyone has anywhere to go.What really gets my goat is trying to catch these drivers’ attention. You finally overtake one, turn to deliver a look of pure, unadulterated contempt, and find the driver staring lovingly at their phone. Not a flicker of guilt. Not even the courtesy of noticing your outrage. You could wave a flaming torch beside their window and they would probably brush it away.And just when you think you have escaped this circus, you enter the Metro. There, carriage after carriage is filled with bowed heads, each passenger locked in a private Reels marathon. Some even playing the reels loudly. Samajh nahi aa raha, Reels na ho gayi, oxygen ho gayi.Honestly, whatever happened to being bored for five minutes? Must every red light, every idle moment be filled with someone else’s dance, joke or lip-sync? We are no longer simply travelling through our cities. We are dragging our screens through them, with the occasional inconvenience of other human beings getting in the way. The very least we can do is look up. The roads are not your personal scrolling lounge, and the rest of us didn’t sign up to partake in this madness.
