Shillong wrapped in winter
Shillong is gently but firmly wrapped in a cold wave this January 2026.
The early mornings and evenings bite sharply and feel unforgiving, as temperatures dip to around 4-6°C. Even during the day, the sun feels distant, more decorative than warming, rarely pushing the mercury beyond 16-19°C.
People move differently now. Bundled in heavy shawls, woollen caps pulled low and layers of sweaters, the city streets carry the quiet rhythm of winter survival. The pine forests and meadows around Upper Shillong and beyond wear a silvery veil of mist at dawn, with golden sunlight just beginning to pierce through. The world feels still, almost suspended.
Frost occasionally graces the grass in open fields and higher meadows—a thin, sparkling layer that crunches underfoot. It is not the dramatic freeze of the plains, but for these hills, it is enough to remind everyone that winter has arrived in full.
People spend more time indoors, warming themselves around heaters and bonfires, whilst those outside depend on an additional quota of hot tea and soup to keep warm. This cold wave is not cruel; it is crisp and unforgiving.
For the underprivileged, however, life feels harsher as they continue to slog for their daily bread and butter in defiance of the winter chill. Students, too, face a dilemma, caught between the warmth of their beds and the pressure of impending board examinations.
With the Meghalaya Board of School Education (MBoSE) advancing the SSLC examinations to the end of January instead of February, this month has become particularly challenging for students.
Yet, the one thing that continues to provide warmth is the spirit of Shillong and the never-say-die attitude of its people.
Did Shillong’s glow trip the power meter?
When electricity bills fluttered into Shillong homes this month, they brought little cheer and plenty of shock. Local households stared at the numbers as if they were misprints—only to realise the figures were very real.
Naturally, there was probing and prodding. Tenants called landlords, landlords called tenants, and some particularly brave souls dialled the authorities. The response, however, remained uniformly dim: high power consumption. End of story.
Or so it seemed.
A more imaginative explanation soon lit up neighbourhood conversations. Could the festive dazzle of Christmas and New Year decorations—those blazing stars, cascading lights and glowing arches—be quietly powering its way into domestic bills? After all, Police Bazar didn’t sparkle on goodwill alone. From Fire Brigade point to Dhankheti, Shillong glowed like a postcard for weeks.
The theory doing the rounds suggests that the power used to keep the city twinkling was, quite literally, shared in spirit—by being distributed among consumers by MeECL.
“I didn’t even go out to see the decorations,” one resident quipped, waving his bill like evidence in court. “Yet my power bill shot up. This is not fair.”
Fair or not, the episode has left Shillong residents wondering if festive cheer now comes with a hidden surcharge. As the lights come down and the city returns to its misty calm, one hopes clarity—if not refunds—will follow.
Until then, the only thing brighter than the decorations is the electricity bill itself.
