From my recent three-week December trip in Finland’s sauna capital of Tampere, the everyday view from the apartment I lived in has somehow made a room in my heart. I was based on the sixth floor, the building on one of the main streets touching the train station just a numbered steps away.
My tiny room’s window was a perfect spot. It faced the large shopping store called Stockmann with offices occupying most of the top floors. While its doors remained busy with shoppers going in and coming out, its offices with glass walls always had some kind of action, from morning meetings with the boss to workers lingering long around the coffee machine. I had also spotted one room where an elderly woman always fiddled with large files. On the ground floor was a coffee shop where conversations never ended: Large groups, two friends or maybe a couple. Many also sat alone looking out in a contemplative mood.
As it was December, the snow never stopped. Imagine the scene of the falling snow which kept everything covered in white. Being the season of Christmas, colourful lights ruled the street where trams passed every few minutes. They stopped right at the feet of Stockmann, where passengers, smartly attired in their winter gear, including heavy caps, mufflers, long coats and boots, patiently waited to board. While some talked and laughed, some stood still scrolling phone screens in hand.
Despite the snow, the pedestrian paths remained busy both with locals and tourists. Some with shopping bags in hand, some with coffee. Many also carried skateboards or ice-hockey sticks. When trains arrived, people could be seen dragging suitcases, slowly navigating their way through the snow. Some would stop like me to take pictures. Among them, I commonly clapped eyes upon young Asians, mostly from India and Pakistan, doing food deliveries on bicycles with large blue bags on their back.
In the evening, musicians arrived near the waiting stop of the trams to entertain and of course make some money. I adored the music reaching my room. Catching the falling snow along, I felt as though the flakes were also singing. Late in the night, small bulldozers came to clear the snow. They always made little hills of the snow on which children were seen playing the next morning. Some made snow balls and others would simply lie on them. Sometimes, their parents also played along, throwing snowballs towards them. There were parents who threw their children on the snow, signalling it was play time. I admired watching children being dragged on a sled, locally called pulkka, through the snow. It was a common scene across Tampere.
When I went down and mingled with some of the passersby – as expected they loved the snow and made it clear that they knew how to celebrate snowy days as none of them had ever complained unlike I did sitting by the window initially. Even heavy snow days had no effect on them, which eventually made me realise: Life must go on whatever the weather. And, so should apply to our life’s journey when it throws challenges our way. rameshinder.travels@gmail.com
The writer is an Amritsar-based freelance contributor
