- Vaishali Ramesh
The month of my long-awaited and dreaded finals, I spent all my free time watching Downton Abbey. The show, for those of you don't watch it, follows the lives of a wealthy family who live in a typical Georgian Country house, and let me tell the house was huge. The show is all about the Crawley's three daughters and their not so perfect lives.
At first glance, this show seems atypical to the Victorian Era, ball dances and butlers. But it's not just that, its much more. I can't pin point a specific thing I liked about it, was it the arrogant Mary, or the patriarch Lord Grantham? It was neither, it was Maggie Smith's sass.
Maggie Smith whom I like to fondly call Professor McGonagall, is the head of the whole family. She quietly blends into the background when necessary but also puts people in their places at the right time. She has this insane ability for mocking people in the subtlest way possible and also being able to smooth it over, with the same amount of ease.
For a devout fan, I skipped a few episodes in between owing to the fact that my head hit the pillows promptly at ten every night, the exact time when the show was aired on the idiot box. To make up for this loss, my friend used to catch me up before every exam. Soon unable to stand the slow pace, she went ahead and saw the whole season. Now catching me up became redundant. I so obviously would not be able to contribute helpful comments to her narration. I was hence left in a loop, do I waste precious sleep hours watching the show or do I stay up like an owl? Sleep won.
Soon after finals ended, I sat down for three days straight and watched the whole show till the very end of the current season, deciding to watch it on television thereafter. Curiosity sated, I moved on to more important things. Three weeks later, too busy to do anything other than sleep or work, I discovered that the show had moved ahead on TV. They were well into the next season. Floundering for time to catch up, I struggled to get back on track with the show. After multiple episodes and still not reaching the mark, I gave up.
In some ways, my obsession with the show is a bit like Nikita's. We both were obsessed with something British and captivating. Although hers started way before mine and has lasted longer than mine, it was an obsession all the less. Be it Prince George or Lord Grantham, cuteness was abundant.
So what I am trying to say here is this, some obsession are like mine. Short lived and it completely draws you in. While others are like Nikita's. Long lasting and it makes you so stalkerish that you are ready to forgo sleep and watch the Royal Family at five in the morning. What so ever it may be, don't fret when the obsession wears off for you will find a new and more entrancing one, like I found Chris Evans.
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I should point out that I'm not a stalker, and that I don't watch the Royal Family at five in the morning (except for that one occasion when the Cambridges were in Australia, and I just had to see George get off the plane).
Anyway, that was Vaishali's post about her 'unhealthy obsession' with Downton Abbey. As you might remember, I absolutely adore Downton Abbey - I watched it non-stop during my exams, and Matthew's face was pretty much the only thing that kept me sane for those three weeks - so I get where she's coming from.
Vaishali also has her own blog called Prolix, which she runs with her friend (and for which I once wrote a guest post that was not about the Royal Family, and yet entirely about the Royal Family because that's the kind of person that I am) so go and check that out HERE. It's a fun read.
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