Illustration by Aamnah Arshad
Illustration by Aamnah Arshad

It was a freezing winter night, and thick smog covered the lounge window, completely hiding the street outside. The family had just finished dinner and gathered in the lounge, trying to escape the cold.

Everyone sat side by side, yet no one was truly together. Each person held a phone in their hands, lost in their own world, while the room stayed quiet, warmed only by the heater, the occasional sound of scrolling, a giggle, and the soft light emitting from their screens.

As everyone remained busy scrolling through their phones, the lights suddenly flickered and went out. The heater stopped at once, and the room fell into silence as a wave of cold swept through it.

There were groans of frustration — “Oh no! Why now?” — as everyone already knew the reason.

Phones were quickly locked to save battery, and the house began to feel colder and quieter than before, with only the sound of traffic from outside.

Ammi stood up to find candles and battery-operated flashlights, with Ayesha helping her in the dark, while Abbu and Ali pulled extra blankets from the cupboard. Everyone then gathered again in the lounge, sitting closer than before to keep warm. The soft glow of the candles showed their frustrated faces, while shadows of passing cars danced on the walls. The room was quietly filled with the sound of slow breathing and the rustle of blankets.

Suddenly, Abbu remembered something from his childhood and asked Daadi about it. That was the moment when Daadi began telling stories, moving from Abbu’s childhood to her own winter days, when there was no electricity for days and people had to find ways to keep themselves busy. Abbu joined in, recalling funny incidents from his college days, making everyone laugh despite the cold. Even the younger ones, who usually scrolled endlessly on their phones, listened with excitement, their eyes wide with curiosity.

Ammi brought in peanuts, and all of us began cracking them open while talking, teasing and asking about things we would have never asked otherwise.

Slowly, the blackout stopped feeling like an inconvenience and started feeling like a rare moment for the whole family.

As everyone was lost in fun memories and laughter, hours passed. Then, the lights suddenly came back on and the house brightened. For a moment, everyone paused, realising how different the evening had felt without electricity. We all looked at each other as if something had brought us closer — we knew more about one another, as if we were still living that moment.

Though phones were picked up again, the stories and smiles lingered in the room. That night, the family understood something simple yet powerful: sometimes, hard or uncomfortable moments can bring people closer and create memories no screen can ever replace.

Published in Dawn, Young World, January 10th, 2026

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