TNPSC Group 4 General English Comprehension Questions of Manohar Devadoss – Yaanai Malai:
TNPSC Group 4 General English consists of three parts. Part A: Grammer, Part B: Literature, and Part C: Authors and their Literary Works. In this section, we discuss the second Literature part. Actually, the Literature part is easy & students who are preparing for TNPSC Exams can easily score maximum marks in this part. So, we provide the TNPSC General English Study Material – Literature in an easy way for the TNPSC aspirants. TNPSC General English Comprehension Questions from the following description of Places Manohar Devadoss – Yaanai Malai.
Look at the Comprehension Questions below and also find other Part B Literature part questions and answers links given below. Complete TNPSC General English study material/ complete notes, question and answers PDF available below for free download.
TNPSC General English Questions on Descriptions of Places:
Manohar Devadoss – Yaanai Malai
Sometimes, landscapes can speak to us. But they only talk if we are willing to listen to them. Manohar Devadoss loves his hometown Madurai. A scientist by profession, the writer has produced some exquisite pen sketches of Madurai and its surroundings. One of his sketches of Yaanai Malai has been reproduced here for you. But what makes him extraordinary is not his versatility.
It is his indomitable spirit. For more than thirty years, Manohar Devadoss has had Retinitis Pigmentosa, an eye disorder that slowly but surely reduces vision. His wife Mahema, an immensely courageous person in her own right, was paralyzed below the shoulders, following aroad accident 36 years ago. The love that they could bring to each other in the face of great tragedy has been a source of inspiration to all who have known them. Read, and discover it!
The city of Madurai has been in existence for at least 2400 years. Throughout its history the city has nurtured Tamil literature. Over the centuries, Madurai has become famous for its temple complex. Rich in traditions, this ancient temple town has acquired its very own mythologies, evolving its own customs and festivals. A dominant landmark of the north-eastern outskirts of Madurai is Yaanai Malai, a solid rocky hill. When seen or approached from Madurai, this hill has a rather striking resemblance to a seated elephant – hence the name Yaanai Malai (ElephantHill). Dotted with starkly beautiful palmyra trees, this part of rural Madurai had a character all its own.
The paddy fields here were nourished by monsoon rains, supplemented by water from large wells called Yettrams, which have all but vanished from the rural scene today. Yettrams were extensively used during my boyhood to draw water from these large, square, irrigation wells. A yettram well had long casuarina poles tied together with a rope, a large bucket made of leather at one end and a counterpoise at the other, enabling a man to single-handedly draw large volumes of water.On a cool moon in October, in the early 1950s, a school friend and I, on an impulse, decided to take a cross-country trek to Yaanai Malai, climb up the hill and stand on its head to look at Madurai and the surrounding country. At one stage the hill seemed close enough but as we walked on it seemed to move further away. Suddenly an idyllic rural scene presented itself. We saw watery fields being ploughed. There was a large, square yettram well from which a wiry old man was drawing water. Yaanai Malai was an imposing and silent backdrop.
Monsoon clouds began to gather, darkening the upper sky and softening the light falling on the austere scene. The landscape was placid but the sky was in turmoil. And yet, there was perfect harmony between land and sky. The sky became darker and light played games on the hill. A large drop of water hit my head. Almost immediately, a heavy downpour tore open the sky and the hill instantly disappeared behind curtains of water. As we walked back to Madurai thoroughly drenched, my friend complained with chattering teeth that the rain had ruined our plan. I thought that what we had witnessed moments earlier was a rare visual gift and that we could always climb Yaanai Malai some other day.
But my destiny decreed that, in this life, I was not to climb up this hill to enjoy viewing Madurai and its enveloping beauty. However, many years later – in October 1986 – I was to capture in ink on paper, the magic of the moment, of that distant afternoon, before lashing rains obliterated the serene landscape.
During my adolescence, Yaanai Malai inspired in me a sense of mystique. Though I gave a premium to rationalism then, I had difficulty thinking of Yaanai Malai as a non-living, huge chunk of stone.
To me, the hill seemed like a silent witness to all that was happening in Madurai, through its history. To this day, I dream of this hill in ways that relate to visual pleasure. In 2001, at a time when my vision – due to an incurable visual syndrome, Retinitis pigmentosa – had declined to a level when I was hardly able to see any details of a distant landscape, I dreamt that my wife, Mahema – who became paralysed below her shoulders, following a road accident in 1 972 – was in her wheelchair and that I stood by her side on top of Yaanai Malai.
In this vivid dream, I showed her some of the important landmarks of Madurai, the tower of the large Vandiyoor temple tank, the cupolas of the historic palace called the mahal, the great gateway towers of the temple and many hills far and near. I told Mahema in my dream that had Thirumalai Nayak the ruler who had built the Mahal three-and-a-half centuries earlier, climbed up the hill then, he would have had a view not vastly different from the one we were looking at.
The monolith, Yaanai Malai looks like an elephant only when it is viewed from the southwest. Happily, Madurai sits to the southwest of Yaanai Malai. What appears from Madurai to have a pyramidal shape is in actuality a very elongated hill. The Melur road from Madurai runs many miles parallel to the southeastern slope of the hill. When viewed from here, the hill has a different yet dominant appeal, as one can see from this drawing of the hill that I completed in June 2002 and have pleasure in presenting below. The broadband of paddy fields ends not far from the hill and then the monolith rises abruptly and steeply like a mighty fortress. The pale brown hue of the hill is enriched by discrete downward streaks of rust-red stains.
During the cool winter months, before the emerald of the paddy fields slowly turns into a wealth of gold, small flocks of lily-white egrets alight here to feast upon the tiny, silvery fish that stray into the shallow waters of the fields. The egrets slow, flapping take-off and the gentle swoop of soft-landing-as they hop from one part of the field to another – are as graceful as the movements of ballerinas.
The borders of the paddy fields are often lined with rows of palmyra trees. Small bushes grow wild at the foot of the trees. During the winter season, these plants burst into thousands of yellow flames of flowers.
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