I know it might sound silly to say that a particular TV series has, in some strange way, become a kind of family for me. You might even think that this is something you hear from every girl you know. Girls, after all, are experts at forming dysfunctional emotional attachments.
I come from a state in India that is particularly famous for its obsession with TV serials. People can become incredibly emotional about the characters and so involved in the stories that it sometimes affects their everyday lives and personal behaviour. The best example I can give is my own granny. Hmm... I can't really complain, though, because certain literary characters have had the same effect on me. What is truly ridiculous is that some people have even committed suicide after their favourite character in a serial has died.
I used to watch Grey's Anatomy, an American medical drama, and made it all the way through Season 9. Eventually, I had to stop because I started feeling like I was becoming a mini doctor. I could answer more medical questions than questions about economics, which was my major at university. Slowly, I came out of the world of Grey's Anatomy. Although, to be honest, I wouldn't say I was ever really addicted to it.
Then a year passed. A lot happened in the meantime. Life became busy, and I didn't have much time to spend watching videos or browsing social networks. Perhaps I had also become more mature, because I started to feel that spending so much time on TV series was rather silly.
Today is October 4th, the third day of my long weekend. I was quite bored, and as they say, "An idle mind is the devil's workshop," I started thinking too much. I missed my family, who live miles away from me in a completely different country. I missed homemade food and everything else that makes you feel at home: your cosy blanket, your bed, your room, and all the little things in it.
With exams coming up and no form of entertainment feeling quite satisfying, I decided to surf the internet for political journalism, another one of my interests. Suddenly, I came across an advertisement for Season 11 of Grey's Anatomy. I clicked on it, and an episode popped up.
I continued watching.
And then I saw those familiar faces again after such a long time.
I felt strangely happy to see how much they had changed, not just in appearance, but in their personalities and attitudes as well. I found myself wondering how everyone else was doing. And then it struck me: Why was I so excited? It felt as though some good old friends had come home after a long time, and I couldn't wait to find out what had been happening in their lives.
"Stupid, silly me," I thought, smiling at myself.
The truth is that TV series that play a regular and consistent role in our everyday lives, consuming an hour or so and gradually becoming part of our routine, can have a psychological effect on us. Many people had told me this in the past, but I never really listened because I felt they were misjudging me. I believed I wasn't addicted. In fact, I wasn't addicted, and perhaps that is precisely why I could stop watching the show whenever I wanted.
But now I realise that, somewhere in my subconscious, I had developed an emotional attachment to these characters. I used to feel genuinely happy whenever I came across people who knew these characters as well as I did, because it meant we could talk about them for hours.
Sigh.
Today, I feel relaxed and strangely at home. I met my old friends, the doctors at Seattle Grace Hospital, and somehow, they made me feel like I was back with family.
Sounds cliché? Crazy?
Maybe.
But doctors might understand what I mean when I say that it feels good to be back at the hospital, coat and gloves on, with countless cases around me and patients expecting empathy rather than sympathy.
Have a lovely Sunday ahead, guys!
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