I was born into a middle-class Tamil family in the island town of Rameswaram in the erstwhileMadras state. My father, Jainulabdeen, had neither much formal education nor much wealth;despite these disadvantages, he possessed great innate wisdom and a true generosity of spirit. Hehad an ideal helpmate in my mother, Ashiamma. I do not recall the exact number of people shefed every day, but I am quite certain that far more outsiders ate with us than all the members ofour own family put together.My parents were widely regarded as an ideal couple. My mother’s lineage was the moredistinguished, one of her forebears having been bestowed the title of ‘Bahadur’ by the British. Iwas one of many children—a short boy with rather undistinguished looks, born to tall andhandsome parents. We lived in our ancestral house, which was built in the middle of the 19thcentury. It was a fairly large pucca house, made of limestone and brick, on the Mosque Street inRameswaram. My austere father used to avoid all inessential comforts and luxuries. However, allnecessities were provided for, in terms of food, medicine or clothes. In fact, I would say minewas a very secure childhood, both materially and emotionally. I normally ate with my mother, sitting on the floor of the kitchen. She would place a banana leafbefore me, on which she then ladled rice and aromatic sambhar, a variety of sharp, home-madepickles and a dollop of fresh coconut chutney.The famous Shiva temple, which made Rameswaram so sacred to pilgrims, was about a tenminute walk from our house. Our locality was predominantly Muslim, but there were quite a fewHindu families too, living amicably with their Muslim neighbours. There was a very old mosquein our locality where my father would take me for evening prayers. I had not the faintest idea ofthe meaning of the Arabic prayers chanted, but I was totally convinced that they reached God.When my father came out of the mosque after the prayers, people of different religions would besitting outside, waiting for him. Many of them offered bowls of water to my father who woulddip his fingertips in them and say a prayer. This water was then carried home for invalids. I alsoremember people visiting our home to offer thanks after being cured. My father always smiledand asked them to thank Allah, the benevolent and merciful.The high priest of Rameswaram temple, Pakshi Lakshmana Sastry, was a very close friend of myfather’s. One of the most vivid memories of my early childhood is of the two men, each in histraditional attire, discussing spiritual matters. When I was old enough to ask questions, I askedmy father about the relevance of prayer. My father told me there was nothing mysterious aboutprayer. Rather, prayer made possible a communion of the spirit between people. “When youpray,” he said, “you transcend your body and become a part of the cosmos, which knows nodivision of wealth, age, caste, or creed.”My father could convey complex spiritual concepts in very simple, down-to-earth Tamil. Heonce told me, “In his own time, in his own place, in what he really is, and in the stage he hasreached—good or bad—every human being is a specific element within the whole of themanifest divine Being. So why be afraid of difficulties, sufferings and problems? When troublescome, try to understand the relevance of your sufferings. Adversity always presents opportunitiesfor introspection.”… I remember my father starting his day at 4 a.m. by reading the namaz before dawn. After thenamaz, he used to walk down to a small coconut grove we owned, about 4 miles from our home.He would return, with about a dozen coconuts tied together thrown over his shoulder, and onlythen would he have his breakfast. This remained his routine even when he was in his late sixties.I have throughout my life tried to emulate my father in my own world of science and technology.I have endeavoured to understand the fundamental truths revealed to me by my father, and feelconvinced that there exists a divine power that can lift one up from confusion, misery,melancholy and failure, and guide one to one’s true place. And once an individual severs hisemotional and physical bondage, he is on the road to freedom, happiness and peace of mind.Questions 1 and 2 are based on passage 1.1. This question has two subparts, A+B. Both have to be answered:A. “The narrator of passage 1 comes from a happy, cultured family.” Comment on the givenstatement, with examples from the passage, in 250-300 words. (10 marks)B. Imagine you are the narrator of passage 1. Write a diary entry in about 350-500 wordsdescribing a typical day in your house. (15 marks)