What's going on!!!

Today, like many other days at home in the hills I woke up in the designed, fraudulent, deceitful morning of early January. There was no sun in the vicinity, despite it being a Sunday and the sky was covered in a sludge of dark clouds, so dark that the only light from the window in my room gave me an impression that there’d been a snowfall early in the morning. It was quiet; not even the birds chirped that chirped always, the stillness that only followed a snowfall. I threw my fur filled quilt at one side of my bed and jumped at the window, hoping to see the landscape outside covered in white moss: trees, mountains, flower pots, the old wooden bench, everything covered in pure pashmina. But as I ogled at it from the wiry mesh of my window I saw the old adulterated version of this fairy tale--- hills without snow!


So much frustration over a trifle, you must think, but my occasioning pain only doubles as I break to you that the undeserving, unchosen land of abject aesthetics, writhing under its confused etymology, Pathankot, has witnessed a snowfall last night. What is going on?!?