I have spent a few weeks since my return to Lahore making some improvements to my house, which long-time readers will know has been an ongoing process akin to ageing. The floors of the place were a gutted, hazardous concrete-chip disaster full of holes. And so while I was away I had the whole place re-tiled; and then, inspired by tiles in general (and the fact that I wouldn’t be home in time), I decided to have a bathroom renovated too. Since I’ve been back I’ve been re-framing pictures, choosing paint colors and reorganising my little life, both as a way to avoid all my work but also because a good stage sets the mood for a good visit.
My circle has a word for this sense of comfort. The word is “Cattige”, i.e. ‘Cottage’, except it is pronounced as if a small animal is saying it from beneath cascading furs in a Disney movie. A roaring fireplace? Cattige. A nice warm cup of tea waiting for you next to an armchair? Cattige. Wrapping yourself in a warm duvet with snacks and a great movie? Cattige. Yellow walls? So cattige it hurts. Overhead lighting in a burns ward at the National Hospital? Not Cattige. Overheard lighting in general? Not Cattige. You get the idea?
Cattige is a universal truth. It is the spirit animating most Swedish furniture. It is the aesthetic behind Bavarian baked goods. Cattige is the life-force of Disney movies and childhood memories and the best part of Cattige is that you can create it anywhere. It’s a coping mechanism for life. For me, it sometimes feels like life itself.
How to be hygge
Imagine my pleasure, then, at finding in The New Yorker today a whole story about cattige (copycats), in which they reported that one of the finalists for the Oxford Dictionary Word of the Year - along with ungainly contenders like “Brexit” and eventual winner “post-truth” - was the little known Danish term “hygge”. Pronounced “hoo-guh”, it is defined as “a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being.” Which, as we have already established, is another way of saying Cattige.
I tell you this because the search for Cattige, that perfect state of welcoming coziness, has been the guiding force in my life for many years. It is why I buy things like throw pillows and clean up after myself. More relevantly, it has been the inspiration behind the renovations of my home Bridgebottom. (I recently painted the name, a family joke, outside my gate but I think the ever-watchful neighbors that aren’t yet dead think it’s a barbed insult). Recently I was walking around my place alone at night when I realised that the house was done. The bathrooms were renovated, the floors were gleaming, the kitchen was chic, the garden verdant, the windows replaced, the exteriors painted. It was all… done. That’s when I realised that the gas heater in the corner was running at full power and my electricity hadn’t gone off since I got back. Suspicious as I am of happiness, I descended into a corner to detect a catch. But it was actually happening, all my utilities were on and humming in my renovated Bridgebottom dream-house and in one of those rare moments they write about on greeting cards or at the ends of teen pregnancy movies, all was at peace. Cattige!
The Danish word 'hygge' is "a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being"
People are not talking enough about the fact that Lahore now has gas and electricity. This is so huge. This is the biggest thing since they announced McDonald’s was coming to town. I get that in the winter the situation of the national grid gets better but this is different. In the years I’ve been at Brigebottom I haven’t had gas once in my house (though that didn’t stop them from sending the bills) and I haven’t been able to rely on 24-hour electricity since well before the 2000’s began. I know I am not alone in this. How suddenly everyone seems to be taking it in their stride while I’m freaking out in gratitude is a continued mystery to me.
Winter is the season that lends itself the most willingly to being cozy in Pakistan. The weather is nicer, the people are calmer, the food is tastier and it is possible to thrive rather than merely survive. Maybe it’s my love of winter, or just the closing of another year (2016 was weird, globally speaking), but it’s important to give thanks when they are due. And that the catastrophic state of the utilities has improved here slightly is one of the many reasons I am grateful. So Merry Christmas (or Happy Quaid day if you’re that kind of person), Happy Hanukah and Seasons Greetings to you all. I encourage you to find your own Cattige because it’s out there waiting for you.
