Mount Abu’s weather forecast: November 2025

 Winter Arrives Early and Fierce. In the Abode of the Gods.

Mount Abu Abode of the Gods 

–2°C on November 18, Per kind favour, Anil Babbars' Den

 –6°C on November 19.

–2°C on November, 20Nov.

This year, every sign pointed toward an early winter in Mount Abu — and nature did not disappoint. Unseasonal, persistent rainfall through the late monsoon, coupled with the early arrival of migratory birds, hinted at a significant shift in seasonal patterns. Temperatures started falling before October's end, and by mid-November, the cold intensified.

For the first time in over a decade, November has witnessed temperatures plunging well below freezing. The temperature readings showed that Mount Abu was –2°C on November 18, then plummeted to –6°C on November 19. Consequently, the IMD announced a yellow alert for a cold wave in multiple Rajasthan districts, including Mount Abu.

What’s Behind This Intense Cold?

 The sharp drop results from a potent combination:

 Icy northwesterly winds are sweeping in from North India

 The broader climatic influence of La Niña, a global weather phenomenon known to intensify winter chills across the subcontinent

Together, these forces have turned Mount Abu into one of the coldest pockets of western India this season.

 The Frosty Illusion: No, It’s Not Snow

 Every winter brings the familiar flurry of viral posts and excited reports proclaiming:

  “Snowfall in Mount Abu!”

  “Abu turns white!”

 While these headlines make for irresistible tourism bait, the truth is simpler — and yet, no less magical. It does not snow in Mount Abu.

 What visitors see coating the fields and meadows in white is frost — frozen dew and moisture that crystallise overnight. By dawn, Mount Abu transforms into a glistening, snow-like wonderland. It’s a natural illusion that captures imaginations and camera lenses alike.

 This shimmering frost has become one of Abu’s most beloved winter charms, drawing tourists eager to experience the chill and photograph scenes that look as though they belong somewhere in the Himalayas.

  A Winter Filled With Warmth

 During these frosty mornings and crisp, echoing nights, Mount Abu feels both ancient and alive. Woollen caps, colourful mufflers, steaming cups of tea, and cheerful chatter appear everywhere. Winter does not visit here — it settles in with quiet dignity.

 In this Abode of the Gods, the frost glitters like snow, and warmth comes not just from bonfires, but from the generous spirit of the people who call this hill station home.

  A Thought to Ponder: What If It Snowed?

 Pause for a moment and imagine the scene — real snowfall in Mount Abu.

The history it would make.

The frenzy it would trigger.

Tourism would skyrocket. Newspapers, TV channels, and social media would erupt with excitement. For Rajasthan, Mount Abu would shine like the Star of Bethlehem, guiding visitors from across the country to witness the miracle on the hill.

Until then, the frost will continue to work its quiet magic — turning Mount Abu into a winter spectacle of its own.

Mount Abu: A Letter to My Petite Hill Station

 The “Free” Mount Abu of Yesteryear.

Mount Abu.

Every hill station has its charm, but Mount Abu has something rarer—a soul. My earliest memories, my footsteps, my writing, and my identity all weave it. Long before tourists discovered it, long before traffic filled its winding roads, Abu was a quiet paradise perched above the plains—a little world of its own.

I often say that I didn’t just grow up in Mount Abu.

Mount Abu grew up inside me. This is my reflection on the Abu of yesterday, the Abu of today, and the Abu I carry within me always.

The “Free” Mount Abu of Yesteryear

There was a time when Mount Abu felt like a place untouched by the world's noise. A small, tranquil hill station where mornings began with birdsong and evenings slipped into silence so deep you could hear the wind whisper through the pines.

Back then, Abu was not accessible. It was exclusive—not by design, but by nature. The British once used it as a summer retreat, a place to escape the desert heat. Even decades later, that exclusivity lingered in its air. There was dignity in Abu’s quietness, an understated elegance born from solitude.

Designating Mount Abu as a wildlife sanctuary in 1960 recognised its sacredness. The forests, teeming with wildlife; the clear, starlit nights; the serene slopes of the Aravallis—everything seemed in harmony. The stories of sages and ascetics, who once sought enlightenment here, felt believable.

Infrastructure was minimal, but that was its charm. A handful of hotels, a few restaurants, a market that closed early, and nature everywhere you looked. Visiting Abu in those days felt like entering a slower, more peaceful world—a world where every walk was a meditation, every sunset a gift.

That was the Mount Abu of my childhood.

free, gentle, intimate, and alive in its quietude.

The “Zoo” of Today

Then the world changed—and with it, so did Abu.

From the 1980s onward, tourism in Rajasthan surged, and our little hill station became a magnet. Being the state’s only hill retreat, Abu attracted a rush of visitors seeking cool weather, greenery, and a break from city life.

And then all of a sudden, the crowds grew.

Hotels mushroomed.

Shops multiplied.

Roads filled with buses, cars, and honking horns.

Nakki Lake—once the heart of stillness—became a carnival.

Toad Rock transformed from a viewpoint into a queue.

Even the forests felt the strain as footfall, construction, and traffic nibbled at the sanctuary’s fragile edges.

Economic growth came, yes. Tourism provided livelihoods, opportunities, and a pulse to the local economy. But the delicate charm that made Abu special faded under the weight of development.

Despite everything, Mount Abu has not lost its soul.

It requires little effort to find.

Go early—before sunrise—to the forest trails.

Walk the quiet paths around Trevor’s Tank.

Take the lesser-known routes toward Salgaon Road or the hidden bends of Guru Shikhar’s slopes.

Sit by the lake in winter, when the migratory birds arrive with the morning light.

There, in those pockets, the old Abu still breathes.

Abu of mist and monsoon.

The Abu of banyans and boulders.

The Abu that raised me.

You just have to pause long enough to hear it.

 My Abu, Always

 Yes, Mount Abu has changed.

Yes, it is louder, busier, and more commercial than ever before.

But my love for this petite hill station is deeper than its changing skyline.

Memory, forest trails I’ve walked, birds I’ve watched, monsoons I’ve waited for, and the peace I’ve always found here root it—no matter how buried it may seem.

 Mount Abu is not just where I come from.

It is the heartbeat of my stories, the backdrop of my dreams, and the place that shaped the person I am.

And no matter how much it changes, one truth will always remain:

The Abu of my heart will never disappear.

“With deepest reverence and profound gratitude, we honour Dr A.K. Sharma,  whose vision and tireless efforts transformed Mount Abu into a serene Echo-Sensitive Zone, safeguarding its natural tranquillity for all time.”,