What is it to migrate? Is it the gravel below the thick snow or is it the lighter softer gentler snow which wraps one from above?
The Oslo Kommune warned against going out this morning owing to sidewalks being icy after the rain last night. I realised after moving to Oslo that there is not much to this place besides snow, rain and forests. Yet, today, while reading the Guardian’s coverage of Jon Fosse, the Nobel laureate in literature for 2023 I learnt that his repertoire consists of these few things. He plays around with them and gives them new meaning in each of his works. It gives me solace to learn that Fosse, an old Norwegian man, has gone through what I go through in my 20s: the feeling of “Oh, another day!” when he woke up every morning in his 20s. There is certainly some comfort in that. I also found some hope in leaning that writing made things better for Fosse. So, I decided to do just that: to write again. A strange thing happened meanwhile – I was sitting at the window sipping coffee when the sun shone on our little snow-covered town.
I picked up ‘The Shining’ from the Gardermoen Airport in Oslo when I was emotionally quite fragile after a month in LA with my partner and while heading to Bangalore where my family was supposed to visit me as I embarked on a week of pre-fieldwork. I started reading the book after returning from Bangalore. It is deeply resonant with the experience of loneliness that I go through here. I hope to make the most of Fosse’s work while I am in West Oslo, a few kilometres away from the Royal Palace where Fosse has been awarded residence by the ruler of Norway.
I used to hate winters. I very much still do. My opinion did not change much because I moved to a Nordic capital where it is freezing for the better part of every year. Yet, one thing I have learnt from Norwegians is their indomitable spirit. I have colleagues who ski to work weathering an unprecedented snowstorm, I saw an old blind man walking with his stick on the slippery pavement, dog-carers walking their dogs at 20 degrees below zero, and parents going out for coffee on grey afternoons with infants wrapped around them. They actively make happiness under harsh conditions.
While observing natives is not enough to change my perspective on winters overnight, my depression has pushed me to appreciate little things like the smell of fresh snow when one heads out, the squeak that my shoes make when I walk on the snow, a little bit of shopping every weekend because one never has enough accessories for the cold, a hot cup of coffee when it is snowing outside, and so on…