Before Fajr, a grandmother's muffled warmth settles like embers over Islamabad's frozen lake — the world holds its breath. The faint whispers catch the cold morning air and gently gather scattered thoughts into a single, quiet point of peace. Your shoulders drop, your breath slows as the still water seems to breathe alongside you. This is the soundscape of winter dawns in Pakistan: when silence remembers its warmth. یہ وہ آواز ہے جو سرمے کی صبح پاکستان میں دل کو گرم کرتی ہے۔