Everyone perceives winter differently but one thing is for sure, our moms clad us with a number of sweaters. Have a look at some of these insights. Which one are you?
Winters? Winters!
Everyone perceives winter differently but one thing is for sure, our moms clad us with a number of sweaters. Have a look at some of these insights. Which one are you?
I smell sheer happiness
Flipping to the last page of the novel, she clenches the oversized sweater up to her palms. She re-reads the last lines. How perfect was the ending! She puts the novel aside and picks up another favourite: coffee. The mildly dark colour complements the winter. The steam that rises from the mug is amazingly comforting. The raindrops outside slither along the window as she childishly traces them with her finger. A blanket wraps her in its warmth as she relishes the rain that pours rhythmically outside. How could one possibly detest rain and winter – a match made in heaven?
Chaos all the way
The bitter cold seeps into her feeble bones excruciatingly. It spreads like poison, slowly yet painfully. The itching, the restlessness and gloominess; all comes at once. It strikes so hard that it benumbs the soul. The night is so dark and the day is so bleak. Her thoughts are being clouded by thunder storms. It’s that time when she fails to comprehend anything around her, when everything blurs out, when she falls through piercing webs of grief that occupy her in sleep.
Oh dear, what a mess
She throws another one in the air as far as she could, hoping it to be her last. The floor is strewn with tissues, tissues that have been mercilessly wrung and twisted. What is it you are asking? Of course, she is fed up of getting up, making her journey to the dustbin every two minutes. Her head is pounding with headache, her nose is turning into a brilliant red with flu, and her ribs ache with all that coughing. Cherry on the top, she is being served bland soup.
So you don’t feel it?
God bless, her layer of fat is so calmingly insulating. She is not trapped under layers of shawls and woollen shirts. The cold just doesn’t touch her. She swiftly walks across the street, licking ice-cream. Why aren’t her teeth jittering with intense cold that has got everyone running under their blankets? When she reaches home, she is going to take bath for the second time. Second time? Doesn’t the water tickle her? She refuses to use geyser water; the normal tap water would work for her. Oh my, has she ever got goose bumps? How fantastically immune she is to the threatening frosty winds.
Who’s in for another trip?
“It’s snowing in Murree!” she exclaims and dances around. Picking up her mobile, she texts in her group: “get ready peeps, it’s time for winter trip 2k17”. She brings her suitcase and fills it with over ten vibrantly coloured mufflers to go with her dresses. She then pours in a number of hoods and long coats and – oh wait! What about woolen headcovers and her newly bought boots? She dashes to fetch them. She scratches her head hard to contemplate what could possibly be missing. DSLR! She carefully packs it with other things. How could she and her group survive without it?
