Skip to main content

Margot.


Spent a beautifully sunny morning exploring the beach town of Margot.Wanted to catch the art gallery in the beach.There was an ode to TS Eliot's 'wasted land' through and through.I took time to soak the the paintings,read the poetries and just drank in the place as I walked along.Margot has history,it has developed into an art town with beautifully painted ,colourful buildings by the sea beach where everybody and their brother were enjoying the sun on a saturday.
The old Margate had art studios and antique shops galore.I pounced on a Victorian and Edwardian cutlery for home.
Picked up a newspaper designed especially in memory of the days when TS Eliot wrote his 'wasted land ' in Margot in the 1920s.It had articles and clips from newspapers back then with clips about the town's prized landmarks.
Even the walls in the town had small clips of stories to tell..about prisoner's of war sharing their meals as free people with foster families,of youngsters working in the restaurants by the sea,of ladies whose spouses were in faraway country and about mermaids of Margot.

'April is the cruellest month ,breeding
Lilacs out of dead land,mixing
Memory and desire,stirring
Dull roots with spring rain...'

April,a cruel month? Not to forget the first world war was just over and there were devils ,I am sure everyone was fighting with including Eliot himself who had an unhappy marriage in the domestic front too,it seems.
I sat on the cold cement floor of the railway station as I scoured 'the Promonade'from 1920 and enjoyed every bit of it.Even the part where T.S Eliot's wife Vivienne writes a morose dairy about her days in Margot.
Promonade and antiques.


Almost home.


Autumn

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Image of Christ.

 There is nothing more scarier than a heart that has hardened .I was talking to Mary the other day,infact weeping with her There is a deep restlessnessness inside.Thank God for it becuase it shows that I have not resigned myself to the way things are.I was telling her I miss the deep experience of seeing the image of Christ and the compassion of the Holy spirit which just used to overwhelm  my heart when I saw the image of Christ in people ,situation and the creation. What is the image of Christ?It is a body marred and maimed to bear the sin of the world.it is a voice that did not speak in protest against God the father,who actually planned it all before the creation of the world,not against the people who maimed Him ,flogged Him,drove the nails into His hands and feet to satisfy their sinful nature.The image of Christ is a body broken  to the utmost yet given to feed the very same people .It is a love that did not count the cost. I am a person who does not put too much v...

Gift of Life...

  I  realise  I am a beauty junkie. Always on the lookout for the experience that brings tears of awe to your person. I guess it is all right because there is just one life to live and as would have it I would like to live it to the fullest.I  have travelled a bit and I have a whole bucket list unticked yet.Some things I call it my short life,I still cherish forever. I have had the experience to meet up and get close to exceptional people ,some of them extremely rare species who stick out from the crowd. One such friend during my early years just looked across the bench to me and said something which has stuck with me forever. Having been to Auroville in Pondicherry, one suddenly exclaimed,' There is a glass crystal in Auroville, when the sunlight falls on it  it reflects the light beautifully and it is breathtaking to say the least. You should see it.The crystal reminded me of you.'I have not seen that crystal till date but I remember the eyes of the person whe...

Just Listening.....

All of eighty and delirious ,the old Pandit shuflled for his Janeu(Sacred ceremonial thread according to hinduism which the brahmins tie around their person).Two devoted sons tried to wrestle him down to his bed.He had a diaper on ,and a catheter but was insisting deliriously that he wanted to use the toilet.Suddenly he picked up his thread and put two loops around his ear.The sons interpreted that he wanted to pass stool.This was a learning for us. Another time another man in his eighty came in screaming with chest pain.He had extensive anterior wall MI .My junior colleague managed him well.His ST elevation had reverted ,his pulse rate was well controlled and he was comfortably seated by the time we saw him for the morning rounds.By the afternoon he complained of chest pain and then went into a supraventricular tachycardia but his hemodynamics held, so we medically managed him.He was by nature a comfortable man.He shared that he was ready to die.We got talking to him one afternoon.He ...