I usually get up early in the morning. But that day I was terribly upset when my mother woke me up. It was extremely cold winter morning. It was too hard to get out of the cosy bed but I remember that it was not Delhi but Mussoorie, where we had especially came for a holiday. I had no choice because I myself insisted and prevailed upon my parents to bring me to Mussoorie to see the snowfall.
Outside it was all foggy and there was hardly any trace of sun. It was shivering cold and perhaps was the coldest day of the year. After having a quick wash and breakfast, we went out of the hotel. The excitement of seeing snow, made me forget the torture of severe cold.
Lo and behold! I was thrilled to see the white landscape for the first time in my life. It was snow all around. The roofs of houses, the trees, the peaks and the streets everything was covered and painted with snowfall. It started running and jumping in excitement. I picked up snow and started playing with it, throwing it here and there like balls.
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I made a snowman and put my hat and muffler on it. I made its eyes by inserting marbles on its face. It was a beautiful creation. When I was tired of playing, I made a painting of the scenery.
Suddenly the fog started clearing in the sky. It became warm and people shivering with a cold welcomed the sun. But I did not like it very much as it started melting the snow and destroying my snowman. When I returned after my meal, the landscape had completely changed. Ugly tin roofs started staring at us. Snow was visible only on the distant hill and Himalaya ranges.
It was time to return and we started back. On the way, I was thinking that this was perhaps the most lovely winter morning I had.