I hear the brring noise of the heater, the faint ticking of my alarm clock and the clattering of glass dishes downstairs. There’s some mild traffic outside what with the revving of the motorcycles’ engines and a few blaring horns but its a relatively quiet day. I can hear a single bird twittering and a siren blaring from one of the impatient thug cars.

Its evening now. Cars are honking and drums are beating. Loud festive music is playing on speakers and people are hooting. Actually, there's a wedding taking place in the house right opposite mine. I snuggle back into my blanket and watch the scene from afar. Its cold, very cold. I'm tempted to turn the heater back on again but I can't muster up the courage to get out of my warm blanket.

Suddenly my screen lights up and my phone buzzes. Its my dad, messaging me from Lahore. I switch it back off. I don't want to talk.