Reading Comprehension
56 previous year questions.
High-Yield Trend
Chapter Questions 56 MCQs
Unhappiness and discontent spring not only from poverty. Man is a strange creature, fundamentally different from other animals. He has far horizons, invincible hopes, creative energies, spiritual powers. If they are left undeveloped and unsatisfied, he may have all the comforts which wealth can give, but will still feel that life is not worthwhile. The great humanist writers, Shaw and Wells, Arnold Bennett and Galsworthy, who are regarded as the prophets of the dawn, expose the foibles, inconsistencies and weaknesses of modern life, but they ignore the deeper currents and sometimes misrepresent them. At any rate, they give nothing in their place. In the void left by the removal of tradition, morality and religion, others are putting in vague sentiments of race and power. The modern mind is shaped by Rousseau's Social Contract, Marx's Capital, Darwin's On the Origin of Species and Spengler's The Decline of the West. The outward chaos and confusion of our life reflect the confusion of our hearts and minds. Constitutions, says Plato, “are but the reflections in the outside world of the values which prevail in men's minds." There must be a change in the ideals we cherish, in the values we adopt, before we can give social expression to them. We help to secure the future only to the extent to which we ourselves are changed. What is missing in our age is the soul: there is nothing wrong with the body. We suffer from sickness of spirit. We must discover our roots in the eternal and regain faith in the transcendent truth which will order life, discipline discordant elements, and bring unity and purpose into it. If not, when the floods come and the winds blow and beat upon our houses, it will fall.
I must say that, beyond occasionally exposing me to laughter, my constitutional shyness has been of no great disadvantage to me. In fact, I can see that, on the contrary, it has been all to my advantage. My hesitancy in speech, which was once an annoyance, is now a pleasure. Its greatest pleasure has been that it has taught me the economy of words. I have naturally formed the habit of restraining my thoughts. And I can now, give myself the ertificate that a thoughtless word hardly ever escapes of my tongue or pen. I do not recollect ever having had to regret anything in my speech or writing. I have thus been spared many a mishap and waste of time. Experience has taught me that silence is part of the spiritual discipline of a votary of truth. Proneness to exaggerate, to suppress or modify the truth, wittingly or unwittingly, is a natural weakness of man and silence is necessary in order to surmount it. A man of few words will rarely be thoughtless in his speech; he will measure every word.
There is a lovely story of a tree and a little boy who used to play in its shade. They had become friends. One day, the boy sat leaning against the trunk of the tree, crying. He was hungry. "Eat my fruit" said the kind tree bending down one of its branches. The boy ate the fruit and was happy. The boy grew up. One day, he sat under the tree with an anxious look on his face. "What is the matter?" asked the tree. "I am going to marry and I want a house to live in," said the young man. "Cut down my branches and build your house." said the tree. The young man built a house with the branches of the tree. The young man became a sailor. One day, he sat under the tree with a worried look. "What is the matter?" asked the tree. "My captain is a cruel fellow. I want a ship of my own." said the sailor. "Cut down my trunk and build a ship." The sailor lost his ship and returned home as a helpless old man. On a cold winter's day, he stood where the tree once was, leaning on his stick and trembling with cold. "Make a fire of me, and warm yourself' said the stump of the tree. The stump of the unselfish tree burnt in the fire, softly humming a tune.
All his calculations have been proved wrong.
Conducting an interview should be like painting by numbers if you are properly prepared. Consider the various aspects of the interview that benefit from early preparation. Some of these may seem obvious, but if left until the candidates are at the door, they can have a negative effect on the process. A checklist will help to make sure everything is planned and some of the less obvious considerations remembered.
Frequently overlooked is the choice of venue and its layout; this can affect the atmosphere of the interview and how candidates respond. The room can feel forbidding, formal, relaxed or cosy, depending on how the furniture is arranged and how the interviewers behave towards the candidates.
Interviewing can be stressful for candidates and interviewers alike, so take account of this in the timing of the interviews and briefing of the interviewers. Stress levels also influence how interviewers behave towards the candidates; developing skills in how to question and supply information to candidates will smooth the flow and help interviewers improve their performance. Of course, question technique, active listening and observation skills benefit managers in other areas of their work, too. The way in which the interview is ended also has an effect on the candidates and may well effect whether the desired candidate decides whether to accept the offer of employment or reject it.
Learning the Queen's English like scrubbing off the bright red varnish from your toe nails, the morning after a dance. It takes a long time and there is always a little bit left at the end, a stain of red along the growing edges to remind you of the good time you had. So, you can see that learning came slowly to me. On the other hand, I had plenty of time, I learned your language in an immigration detention centre, in Essex, in the Southeastern part of the United Kingdom. Two years, they locked me in there. Time was all I had.
But why did I go to all the trouble ? It is because of what some of the older girls explained to me to survive, you must look good or talk even better. The plain ones and the silent ones, it seems their paperwork in never in order. You say, they got repatriated. We say, sent home early.
The Other Hand is the stroy of a young woman who flees conflict in her home village in the oil-rich region of southern Nigeria. She makes her way to the UK as an illlegal immigrant detention centre near London. When she finally gets out, she seeks out the only two people she knows in England, whom she met on a Nigerian beach during a life-changing event a few years before. Will she be able to find them, and if so will they help her ? And if not, will she survive in her newly adopted country as an immigrant ?
While conservation efforts are associated with conflicts between villagers and Forest Officials in most Protected areas across the country, the Kailadevi Wildlife Sanctuary in Rajasthan has involved local community initiatives for conservation and regeneration. The Sanctuary was initiated in 1983, over 674 sq km forming a part of the 1334 sq km Ranthambore Tiger Reserve. It is located within the Karauli and Sopatra blocks of Sawai Madhopur district.
The primary occupation of the predominant Meena and Gujjar communities is pastoralism and subsistence agriculture.
Pressures on the sanctuary included migrant grazers known as the Rabaris, who came from the Mewar region of Rajasthan with herds of over 150,000 sheep. Other pressures were from exploitation of timber and fuelwood and mining. The threat posed by the migrant grazers spurred the formation of the "Baragaon ki Panchayat" in 1990, which in turn initiated a 'Bhed Bhagao Andolan'.
The Forest Department supported the villagers in the formation of Forest Protection Committees and Van Suraksha Samitis. The benefits of involving local people in protection of their resources were obvious. Illegal felling was checked. The use of forest resources for local use was monitored. The Forest Protection Committees (FPCs) were also successful in stopping the mining in the Sanctuary. The people not only protect their forests but also use their resources judiciously.
No one could understand where he got his money from. But the person who marvelled most at the dashing and luxurious life led by Alphonse was his friend and partner.
After they dissolved their partnership, most of the custom and the best connection passed by degrees into Charles's hands. This was not because he in any way sought to run counter to his former partner; on the contrary, it arose simply from the fact that Charles was the more capable man of the two. And as Alphonse had now to work on his own account, it was soon clear to any one who observed him closely, that in spite of his promptitude, his amiability, and his prepossessing appearance, he was not fit to be at the head of an independent business.
And there was one person who did observe him closely. Charles followed him step by step with his sharp eyes; every blunder, every extravagance, every loss - he knew all to a nicety, and he wondered how Alphonse could keep going so long.
They had as good as grown up together. Their mothers were cousins; the families had lived near each other in the same street; and in a city like Paris, proximity is as important as relationship in promoting closeness. Moreover, the boys went to same school.
But while it is tenuous, life here is also humbling-physically, mentally, and even spiritually. The experience has allowed me to witness the wonderous dualities of nature: raw, brutal and unforgiving but nurturing and awe-inspiring at the same time.
As the days shorten, almost all life starts to depart seeking warmer lands. But those who stay are surrounded by glacial beauty and an otherworldly stillness that stands unmatched. In peak winter months, the sun seems to live only in memory. Its absence however, is only an illusion: shimmering displays of blue, red, yellow, green, and orange auroras shifting and snaking like billowing curtains across the pitch black sky remind me that the light shall one day return.
Even the emptiness of the land is deceptive. Look closely and out waddles a flock of penguins from behind an ice shelf on the Antarctic peninsula.
A great part of Arabia is desert. Here there is nothing but sand and rock. The sand is so hot that you cannot walk over it with your bare feet in the daytime. Here and there in the desert are springs of water that come from deep down under the ground - so deep that the sun cannot dry them up. These springs are few and far apart, but wherever there is one, trees grow tall and graceful making a cool, green, shady place around the spring. Such a place is called an oasis.
The Arabs who are not in the cities live in the desert all the year round. They live in tents that can be put up and taken down very easily and quickly so that they can move from one oasis to another, seeking grass and water for their sheep, goats, camels and horses. These desert Arabs eat ripe, sweet figs, and also the dates that grow upon the palm trees; they dry them, too, and use them as food all the year round.
These Arabs have the finest horses in the world. An Arab is very proud of his riding horse, and loves him almost as much as he loves his wife and children. He never puts heavy loads upon his horse, and often lets him stay in the tent with his family. The camel is much more useful to the Arab than his beautiful horse, however, for he is much larger and stronger. One camel can carry as much as or more than two horses. The Arab loads the camel with goods and rides him, too, for miles and miles across the desert - just as if it were really the "Ship of the Desert", which it is often called.
I am a king, I am a slave,
I am a worm, I am God,
DERZHAVIN
The following day Charsky sought our room number 35 in the dark and dirty corridor of an inn. He stopped at the door and knocked. The Italian of the previous day opened the door.
"Victory!" Charsky said to him. "The affair is settled. The Princess --- offers you her salon. At a big party last night I succeeded in recruiting half Petersburg. Get your tickets and programmes printed. I guarantee you, if not a triumph, at least a profit....
"And that's the main thing!" cried the Italian, expressing his delight by a spate of lively movements, characteristic of his southern origin. "I knew that you would help me. Corpo di Bacco! You are a poet like myself, and there's no denying that poets are splendid fellows! How can I express my gratitude? Wait... would you like to hearan improvisation?"
"An improvisation! ... But can you do without an audience, without music, without the thunder of applause?"
"Nonsense! Where could I find a better audience? You are a poet, you will understand me better than others, and your quiet encouragement will mean more to me than whole storms of applause.... Find yourself a seat somewhere and give me a theme".
Unquestionably a literary life is for the most part an unhappy life; because, if you have genius, you must suffer the penalty of genius; and, if you have only talent, there are so many cares and worries incidental to the circumstances of men of letters, as to make life exceedingly miserable. Besides the pangs of composition, and the continuous disappointment which a true artist feels at his inability to reveal himself, there is the ever-recurring difficulty of gaining the public ear. Young writers are buoyed up by the hope and the belief that they have only to throw that poem at the world's feet to get back in return the laurel-crown; that they have only to push that novel into print to be acknowledged at once as a new light in literature. You can never convince a young author that the editors of magazines and the publishers of books are a practical body of men, who are by no means frantically anxious about placing the best literature before the public. Nay, that for the most part they are mere brokers who conduct their business on the hardest lines of a Profit and Loss account. But supposing your book fairly launches, its perils are only beginning. You have to run the gauntlet of the critics.
A time comes in the life of every author when he regards critics as comical rather than formidable, and goes his way unheeding. But there are sensitive souls that yield under the chastisement and, perhaps after suffering much silent torture, abandon the profession of the pen for ever. Keats, perhaps, is the saddest example of a fine spirit hounded to death by savage criticism; because, whatever his biographers may aver, that furious attack of Gifford and Terry undoubtedly expedited his death. But no doubt there are hundreds who suffer keenly hostile and unscrupulous criticism, and who have to bear that suffering in silence, because it is a cardinal principle in literature that the most unwise thing in the world for an author is to take public notice of criticism in the way of defending himself. Silence is the only safeguard, as it is the only dignified protest against insult and offence.
Your body is almost two-thirds water, so staying hydrated is important. Teenagers should aim to drink six to eight glasses of water per day, according to the British Nutrition Foundation. That number increases for teens who engage in sports or are especially active. Other good sources of fluid include 100 percent fruit juice and low-fat milk. Sugary and caffeinated drinks should be limited or eliminated from the diet completely as they provide excess sugar and empty calories.
According to the Cleveland Clinic, teenagers need at least nine hours of sleep each night to function at their best during the day. It sounds easy enough, but with early school start times, late afternoon practices and hours of homework, getting enough sleep can be a challenge. Set a regular bedtime that allows for nine hours of sleep before you have to get up for school. You should also plan for at least an hour of "quiet time" prior to bedtime. The goal is for all electronics to be turned off for the night so that the brain and body relax. Quiet time may involve listening to soothing music or reading a book.
The figure in the boat was of a strong man with ragged grizzled hair and a sun-browned face. He was about twenty-eight years old, although he looked older. Lizzie, his daughter, a girl of nineteen, was handling a pair of sculls very easily. Had he not been so recognizable as an old man, the girl loved this dark girl of nineteen or twenty. It was often there that, now in time, he could be seen. She was in her boat, pulling on her sculls, or washing out, or stroking with her long line. And he could be a fisherman’s land. He did this at no time, and no one he looked at ever looked at him, and so doing he could not be considered either a river-rat or waterman. There was no reason for anyone to look for him, but take heed and not be caught in the same situation. There was no glare or insolence in her boat, no cargo for delivery, no hope of a most fervent searching before she died, as had happened more times than could be counted. She watched every inch before her, a tide that swept as dictated by the movement of the boat, down river and little race and eddy. The tide had turned an hour before. She was running against its sternmost and last, according to the compass which she bore beneath her left hand. She was a divine watchwoman. And little girl, she did not falter, did not turn back, was slight against waves. Her eyes were fixed intensely. And little girl, the boat swept on. It moved microcosm. As much as he drove stem and bow as suddenly thus and there, the two, so obviously doing were so obviously one.
A fixed boat at the bottom of the river, neither in the fury of its current or eddies, but the surface, by season of the slime and ooze with which it was covered and its sodden state. This boat the drift, the lorry of them there, doing something that they often did, with his brown arms often bared half above the elbow and a with his knee resting on his matched bead on his bare breast, between flesh of shoulder and shoulder, such as no loose wearing of kerchief could ever undo, were they to be in wilderness savage men, with bodies. He wore a looser with every little motion of the girl, with her boat, of her perhaps usage of his with her steady gaze. So to be made out of the things he began still to turn wrist sometimes like savage men do or with her boat, they must act as one. Keep her out, Lizzie. The tide runs strong here.
Prem Chand was born at Lamhi, a village a short distance from Banaras, on 31st July 1880. He descended from a family that owned one of the richest and and runs large estates. Prem Chand’s grandfather, Govind Lal, was a patwari. His father, Ajaib Lal, a clerk in the post office, was an accomplished writer. Prem Chand’s mother was his father’s second wife, Devi, nurtured and accomplished woman, remained ever grateful to him. His brother was Dhanpat Rai. It is said this family owned about twenty five bighas in landThe childhood of Prem Chand was spent in the village. He was a sportive and lively,boy veryfond of playing about. Prem Chand was fond of playing about; stealing things from the fields.He had a sweet tooth and was particularly fond of raw sugar. At lamhia, he had his early schooling and picked up his Urdu and Persian. As is based on some record that he was severely punished for stealing one rupee.Prem Chand is based on his childhood memories. Kazmi,was a postal messenger, who travelled long distances and always back overnight, is on record with his love for Prem Chand. In the short story “Batie Ghar Ki Beti,” the child brought something delicious for the child. Prem Chand’s deep-rooted hatred for British rule, during the post office punished for theft. His figure became clearer as the years rolled by; a little demagogue for the downtrodden Kazzmi, was indeed, full of dignity and self-respect, with the human aspect of kindness overflowing on him.
It may be noted that Prem Chand was pen-name adopted by the author over his years. He was named Dhanpat Rai and when he started writing stories as a government servant, he used pen-name, Nawab Rai. Many stories written as Nawab Rai brought him fame. When the government proscribed his first collection of short stories “Service’s Vim” Prem Chand discarded the pen-name Nawab Rai and all his later work appeared under the pen-name Prem Chand.
There was no respect for youth when I was young,
and now that I am old there is no respect for age.
I missed it coming and going.
– J. B. Priestley
Unlike the Persuasive Speech, which changes mindsets, and the Informative Speech, which transfers knowledge, an Entertaining Speech makes the speaker and the listener feel good about life and themselves. An Entertaining Speech is light, fun, and gracious. Speeches in the form of toasts, roasts, stand-ups, and after-dinner chats are examples of entertaining speeches. An Entertaining Speech sells or promotes happiness and gratitude. Still, as speeches go, the Entertaining Speech needs a good opening, a good closing, and a fun-filled reflective middle. The closing need not be a summary or a call for action, but it needs to end on a high and happy note.
The elements of an entertaining speech are:
• Several humorous anecdotes about the characters involved
• Dialogues between characters
• A “flip” look at serious things
• Preferably spoken in the first person and told in the present tense
• Ideas and suggestions in the speech should be quick on the set-up and quicker on the
punch
• Several voice modulations should be part of the delivery style
• It should not be very long
The speaker also needs to open up and get close to the audience mentally, physically, and emotionally.
No Man is an Island
No man is an island.
Entire of itself.
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
if a clod be washed away by the sea.
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of the friend's
Or of thine own were:
Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind,
and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls:
It tolls for thee.
This is an age-old table. A mother and her daughter Satto, lived in a village. During that time, the forests w full of fruits and flowers. The women and girls of the village used to go and pluck these fruits and flowers. of them used to pluck the sweet flowers of the mahua (Bassia Latifolia) tree, stored them at home and consumed them later.
One day, all of them plucked the sweet flowers and kept them in their rooms without drying them. Satto's mother was not at home. Satto dried the sweet flowers. As the flowers died. They shrunks. Later on when Satto's mother came home, she found very little flowers and thought that either Satto had eaten the flowers she had given them to the village girls. In her blind rage, she beat her daughter to death. The women and g of the village told her that she killed her daughter for such a trivial issue. They asked her to soak the flowers water. When she soaked the mahuas, they swelled up and the entire room was filled with the flowers. Satto mother was full of remorse. She regretted the fact that she killed her daughter without thinking. She died because of grief.
She was reborn as the pandak bird. The pandak bird still sings this song-
'Daughter Satto, the mahuas were in proper quantity...'
He had torn up the earth in almost all parts of India and had brought to light very valuable information concerning the history and outlook of people of remote centuries. His monographs on each of his excavations filled several shelves in all the important libraries. And then, as our good fortune would have it, he received an inspiration that Malgudi district was eminently diggable. I am not competent to explain how he got this idea. but there it was. Word was brought to me that the great man was staying in the dak bungalow and was in need of an assistant. Within an hour of hearing it I stood before the great man. He was sitting on the floor with the most crazy collection of articles in front of him pots and beads and useless coins and palm leaves, all of them rusty and decaying. he had a lens by his side, through which he looked at these articles and made notes.
LOVE AND A QUESTION
A STRANGER came to the door at eve,
And he spoke the bridegroom fair.
He bore a green-white stick in his hand,
And, for all burden, care.
He asked with the eyes more than the lips
For a shelter for the night,
And he turned and looked at the road afar
Without a window light.
The bridegroom came forth into the porch
With "Let us look at the sky,
And question what of the night to be,
Stranger, you and I."
The woodbine leaves littered the yard,
The woodbine berries were blue,
Autumn, yes, winter was in the wind;
"Stranger, I wish I knew."
Within, the bride in the dusk alone
Bent over the open fire,
Her face rose-red with the glowing coal
And the thought of the heart's desire.
The bridegroom looked at the weary road,
Yet saw but her within,
And wished her heart in a case of gold
And pinned with a silver pin.
The bridegroom thought it little to give
a dole of bread, a purse,
A heartfelt prayer for the poor of God,
Or for the rich a curse,
But whether or not a man was asked
To mar the love of two
By harboring woe in the bridal house,
The bridegroom wished he knew.
We humans walk with two legs (called 'bipedal') and use two hands. The evolution of bipedalism began in our ancestors, the primates, about 4 million years ago. The primates not only gave us our blood groups, but our two feet and two hands as well. Primates exhibit characteristics that distinguish them from less evolved mammals. These include adaptations to live in trees (as monkeys do), big brains, heightened sense of vision, opposable thumbs to grasp the four fingers in each hand, and more flexibility in shoulder movements.
Dr. Tetsuro Matsuzawa of the Kyoto University, Japan, writes that the shared ancestor primates moved into tree tops and developed four hands from the four legs possessed by the terrestrial ancestor. This was an adaptation to arboreal life; enabling the efficient grasping of branches and tree-trunks. Subsequently, early human ancestors left the trees to start walking long distances across the land, bipedally. Thus, we created two feet from four hands during the course of evolution from our primate ancestors.
The anthropologist Carol Ward of the University of Missouri, US points out that the way we humans get around the world is different from any other animal on earth. We move around on the ground, upright on two feet, but in a unique way: with one foot after the other; holding our body fully upright in a characteristic series of motions. So, it's a big deal to figure out how and why we walk the way we do, and how our lineage really diverged so much from ape like creatures.
The human brain is about three times as big as the brain of our closest living relative, the chimpanzee. Moreover, a part of our brain, called the cerebral cortex - which plays a key role in memory, attention, awareness and thought - contains twice as many cells as the same region in chimpanzees. We are, thus, smarter than apes.
Off to the right we hear the distinct 'bleep-bleep' - the alarm call of the chital, or spotted deer, announcing the presence of a predator. Kuttapan and Gautam go off to investigate and we begin to drive around to intercept them on the other side of the forest. Not ten metres down the road, we hear a loud 'varoom' - the call of the tiger - and we slide to a halt on the dusty road. Walking directly towards us at a distance of 100 metres is a large male tiger. It is one of the three-year-old males known to share this territory with his brother.
The tiger continued his casual stroll directly towards us.
When the tiger is about 50 metres past us, our reverie is broken by a commotion in the forest across the road. Anil, our guide, whispers loudly, 'Wolves!' There, propped up like little statues in a clearing in the forest, are two Indian grey wolves. Rigid, alert, clearly in a state of alarm and agitation, they begin yelping at the tiger. The tiger spins around on the road and charges off into the forest after them.
This time the tiger turns round and glowers at the wolf, probably assessing the distance between them and the speed it would take to catch the wolf. The muscles of the tiger begin to twitch and off goes the wolf into the forest again. Finally, after one more of these encounters, the tiger moves some distance away and the wolf disappears into the forest for one last time. We can only assume that the aggressive and bold behaviour of the wolf meant he was protecting some cubs and wanted to be sure the tiger was driven out of his territory. The tiger, now left in peace, continues his stroll.
My grandparents always chose the same spot. Wild blackberry bushes stretched along the roadside as far as the eye could see in both directions. The road overlooked a small pitch and putt course. On such sunny summer days it was always full. Golfers ambled sedately from hole and the crack of metal striking ball was a constant accompaniment.
Several hours of picking berries ensued. Nana warned me not to eat any until they had all been washed, but turned a knowing blind eye while I gorged anyway. I also helped myself to the occasional unripe red berry as I had particular taste for anything bitter. The fully immature green berries proved a step too far for even my palate and were merely unpleasant.
When at last we were finished the big scenery had turned to lengthy shadows and the afternoon had elapsed into evening. Grandad hauled a big bag half full of berries back to the van. Juice bed slowly onto the ground. Nana would later make apple and blackberry tarts and fill several jars with jam. When I reached the van my stomach hurt from too much fruit. My hands stung from constant thorn pricks and were stained dark purple. I always enjoyed those days.
The temple was actually commissioned by Soma Dandanayaka or Somnath (he named the village after himself), the minister of the Hoyasala king, Narasimha the Third. The temple was built to house three forms of Krishna. The inner center of the temple was the kalyanamandapa. Leading from here are three corridors, each ending in a shrine, one for each kind of Krishna-Venugopala, Janardana and Prasanna Keshava, though only two remain in their original form.
I had never seen a house on fire before. So, one evening when I heard fire engines with loud alarm bells rushing past my house, I quickly ran out and, a few streets away, joined a large crowed of people, but we could see the fire only from a distance because the police would not allow anyone near the building on fire.
What a terrible scene I saw that day. Huge flames of fire were coming out of each floor, and black and thick smoke spread all around. Every now and then tongues of fire would shoot up almost sky-high, sending huge sparks of fire all around.
Three fire engines were busily engaged and the firemen in their dark uniforms were playing the hose on various parts of the building. Then the tall red ladders of the fire engine were stretched upwards and could see some firemen climbing up with hoses in their hands. On reaching almost the top of the ladder, they began to pour floods of water on the topmost part of the building. This continuous flooding brought the fire under control but the building was completely destroyed.
While fire is a blessing in many ways, it can also be a great danger to human life and property.
At the Museum
But is 2500 B.C. Harappa,
who cast in bronze a servant girl?
No one keeps records
of soldiers and slaves,
The sculptor knew this,
polishing the ache
off her fingers stiff
from washing the walls
and scrubbing the floors,
from stirring the meat
and the crushed asafoetida
in the bitter gourd.
But I'm grateful she smiled
at the sculptor,
as she smiles at me
in bronze,
a child who had to play women
to her lord
when the warm June rains
came to Harappa.
I avoided sleeping during the day and sneaked out of my mother's room. As I saw everyone is asleep, my mind turned into the devil's workshop in search of the prized item. I ran to the kitchen and pulled at the door of the refrigerator. I ran my hand over the eatables, mindlessly changing their places and dashed the door carelessly when I could not find the soft and syrupy sponges. I left, accidently making a mess and leaving the water tap open.
In the evening, when my misdeeds were discovered, a visibly livid father dragged me to the center of our drawing room. To escape the beating, I feigned weeping. Hearing my sobs, my grandparents would invariably snatch me out of my father's hands. I broke free from their arms and threw my body on the bed with a thud. I did not listen to anyone's voice and pretended to be asleep.
Hands tugged me at dinner time. I refused to listen to the request of taking food. Then my parents and grandparents would coax me with various offers. My grandfather hugged me and asked, “Arjun, what will make youn feel better?”
“Rasgulla! Give me at least tea.”
But he was now very old and feeble. And long penance had weakened his frame and exhausted his energies. And as he tailed on in the heat of the day over the burning earth, the sun beat on his head like the thunderbolt of Indra, and struck him with fever. Still he gathered himself together and struggled on, growing weaker and weaker day by day, till at last he got no further, but fell down and lay dying on the ground. But collecting all his remaining strength, with a last desperate effort he dragged himself up a low hill in front of him. And lo! there before him rolled the mighty stream of Ganges, with countless numbers of pilgrims doing penance on its banks and bathing in its stream. And in his agony he cried aloud: "O Mother Ganges alas! alas! I have pursued you all my life and now I die here helpless in sight of you." So his heart broke, and he never reached its shore.
All curriculum and pedagogy, from the foundational stage onwards, will be redesinged to be strongly rooted in the Indian and local context and ethos in terms of culture, traditions, heritage, customs, language, philosophy, geography, ancient and contemporary knowledge, societal and scientific needs, indigenous and traditional ways of learning etc.-in order to ensure that education is maximally relatable, relevant, interesting, and effective for our students Stories, arts, games, sports, examples, problems, etc. will be chosen as much as possible to be rooted in the Indian and local geographic context. Ideas, abstractions, and creativity will indeed best flourish when learning is thus rooted.
Water pollution is one of the most serious environmental problems. Water pollution is caused by a variety of human activities such as industrial, agricultural and domestic. Agricultural run off laden with excess fertilizers and pesticides, industrial effluents with toxic substances and sewage water with human and animal wastes pollute our water thoroughly, Natural sources of pollution of water are soil erosion, leaching of minerals from rocks and decaying of organic matter. Rivers, lakes, seas, oceans, estuaries and ground water sources may be polluted by point or non-point sources. When pollutants are discharged from a specific location such as a drain pipe carrying industrial effluents dischaged directly into a water body it represents point source pollution. In contrast non-point sources include discharge of pollutants from diffused sources or from a larger area such as a run off from agricultural fields, grazing lands, construction sites, abandoned mines and pits, roads and streets.
Over the generations, the individual components of the genetic code within a species change, or mutate. So far as we know, mutations mny provide no evolutionary advantage at all. They may be disadvantageous, in which case they are weeded out via natural selection; or they may be advantageous, in which case they persist through the generations.
What makes these mere pieces of of paper bear the value of the number of rupees that is printed upon them? Why should a piece of paper, with "100" printed on it be worth twenty times as much as apiece of paper with "five" printed on it-and also worth a hundred times as much as a silver rupee-coin? The reason is that Government guarantees that the piece of paper is worth the amount printed an it and promised to pay that amount to any body who wishes to exchange this paper for the rupee-coins. Also, if you think about it you can easily realize that crores and crores more of rupee-coins would have to be minted, if all paper-money were abolished.
Perhaps you may ask, "Then why not have paper money only?" Why use silver and Nickle and copper at all? The answer is-because money must, as we have already said, be something so useful that everyone wants. Also because the metals are the best form of money, and thirdly because it would be impossible to print just the right amount of paper money that would keep prices at their proper natural level. It any Government prints too much paper money, then prices go up at once. The supply of money is increased and therefore its value (in food, clothes, books, houses, land, tools and everything else) goes down.
You may think at first that it is queer to talk of having too much paper money and the money is so nice and useful that you cannot have too much of it. But if you think that, I an afraid you are forgetting that money is only useful for what it will buy; so it is no good at all having more money if there are no more things to buy with it. The more money there is, the higher will be the prices of everything. The same thing happens with rupee-coins as with paper money. But it is not likely to happen, for this reason: it is very easy to print a great deal of paper money, but not at all easy to increase the amount there is if it keeps very steady and changes very little. In fact that is one of the chief reasons why it was chosen to make coins of.
I know I'm not an ordinary ten-year-old kid. I mean sure, I do ordinary things. I eat ice cream. I ride my bike. I play ball. I have an Xbox. Stuff like that makes me ordinary. I guess. And I feel ordinary. Inside But I know ordinary kids don't make other ordinary kids run away screaming in playgrounds. I know ordinary kids don't get stared at wherever they go.
If I found a magic lamp and I could have one wish, I would wish that I had a normal face that no one ever noticed at all. I would wish that I could walk down the street without people seeing me and then doing that look-away thing. Here's what I think: the only reason I'm not ordinary is that no one else sees me that way. But I'm kind of used to how I look by now. I know how to pretend.
I don't see the faces people make. We've all gotten pretty good at that sort of thing: me, Mom, Dad Via. Actually, I take that back: Via's not so good at it. She can get really annoyed when people do something rude. Like, for instance, one time in the playground some older kids made some noises. I don't even know what the noises were exactly because I didn't hear them myself, but Via heard and she just started yelling at the kids. That's the way she is. I'm not that way.
She ate a few mouthfuls of food and drank a cup of milk. But she lighted no fire, and when night came, no candle, but crept with her baby to bed.
What woke her? The wonder was that she had slept-she had not meant to. But she was young, very young. Perhaps the shrinking of the galvanized roof-yet hardly, since that was so usual. Something had set her heart beating wildly; but she lay quite still, only she put her arm over her baby. Then she had both round it, and she prayed, "Little baby, little baby, don't wake!"
The moon's rays shone on the front of the house, and she saw one of the open crackes, quite close to where she lay, darken with a shadow. Then a protesting growl reached her; and she could fancy she heard the man turn hastily. She plainly heard the thud of something striking the dog's ribs, and the long flying strides of the animal as it howled and ran. Still watching, she saw the shadow darken every crack along the wall. She knew by the sounds that the man was trying every standpoint that might help him to see in; but how much he saw she could not tell. She thought of many things she might do to deceive him into the idea that she was not alone. But the sound of her voice would wake baby, and she dreaded that as though it were the only danger that threatened her. So she prayed "Little baby, don't wake don't cry!"
Knowledge has many forms and it is available at many places. It is acquired through education, information, intelligence and experience. It is available in academic institutions, with teachers, in libraries, in research papers, seminar proceedings and in various organizations and workplaces with workers, managers, in drawings, in process sheets and on the shop floors. Knowledge, though closely linked to education, comes equally from learning skills such as those possessed by our artists, craftsmen, hakims, vaidyas, philosophers and saints, as also our housewives. Knowledge plays a very important role in their performance and output too. Our heritage and history, the rituals, epics and traditions that form part our consciousness are also vast resources of knowledge as are our libraries and universities. There is an abundance of unorthodox, earthy wisdom in our villages. There are hidden treasures of knowledge in our environment, in the oceans, bioreserves and deserts, in the plant and animal life. Every state in our country has a unique core competence for a knowledge society.
A River
In Madurai,
city of temples and poets,
who sang of cities and temples,
every summer
a river dries to a trickle
in the sand,
baring the sand ribs,
straw and women's hair
clogging the watergates
at the rusty bars
under the bridges with patches
of repair all over them
the wet stones glistening like sleepy
crocodiles, the dry ones
shaven water-buffaloes lounging in the sun
The poet only sang of the floods
He was there for a day
when they had the floods.
People everywhere talked
of the inches rising,
of the precise number of cobbled steps
run over by the water, rising
on the bathing places,
and the way it carries of three village houses,
one pregnant woman
and a couple of cows
named Gopi and Brinda as usual.
Digital technologies have profoundly changed childhood and adolescence. The internet and the means to access it, such as tablets and smartphones, along with social media platforms and messaging apps, have become integral to the lives of youth around the world. They have transformed their education and learning the way make and maintain friendship, how they spend their leisure time, and their engagement with wider society. UNICEF's State of the world's Children 2017: Children in a Digital World report reveals that one in three internet users is younger 18 years and 71% of 15-24-year-olds are online, making them the most connected age group worldwide. However, the so-called digital divide is substantial: 346 million youth are not online, with African adolescents the most affected (60% are not connected compared with 4% in Europe). Young people who lack digital skills, live in remote regions, or speak a minority language are also being left behind in harnessing the opportunities.
Some children have never been online or have little access and are missing out on the benefits of connectivity.
Digital advances have their flip side too. Bullying is no longer left at the school gates; cyberbullying is a new method for bullies to hurt and humilite their victims with the click of a button. Words and images posted online that are designed to cause harm are also difficult to delete, increasing the risk of re-victimisation.
Concerns have also been raised about the time children spend using digital technology and its effect on their physical activity and mental health. Evidence suggests moderate use of digital technology can be beneficial to children's mental wellbeing, whereas excessive use can be detrimental. Children's social relationships seem to be enhanced by digital technology, especially since most of their social circle is now online. Evidence on physical activity is mixed. And better research is needed in this area.
Despite these issues, the popularity and use of digital technologies will continue to grow. However, an intergenerational gap exists in digital knowledge and literacy. Teachers and parents need training to teach digital skills and online safety to children. They are also crucial to helping young people assess reliable news and information sources and navigate the pressures social media, as highlighted in a report released on Jan 4 by England's Children's Commissioner. Schools are also an important forum for discussing cyberbullying, anti-bullying programmes need to include online harassment.
Children and adolescents must be the priority of national and global digital policies, not only to protect them from online harm but also to allow technology to help them fulfil their full potential.
It was raining when Rahel came back to Ayemenem. Slanting silver ropes slammed into loose earth, plowing it up like gunfire. The old house on the hill wore its steep, gabled roof pulled over its ears like a low hat. The walls, streaked with moss, had grown soft, and bulged a little with dampness that seeped up from the ground. The wild, overgrown garden was full of the whisper and scurry of small lives. In the undergrowth a rat snake rubbed itself against a glistening stone. Hopeful yellow bullfrogs cruised the scummy pond for mates. A drenched mongoose flashed across the leaf-strewn driveway.
The house itself looked empty. The doors and window were locked. The front verendah bare unfurnished. But the skyblue Plymouth with chrome tailfins was still parked outside, and inside, Baby Kochamma was still alive.
She was Rahel's baby grandaunt, her grandfather's younger sister. Her name was really Navomi, Navomi Ipe, but every body called her Baby. She became Baby Kochamma when she was old enough to be an aunt.
Rahel hadn't come to see her, though. Neither niece nor baby grandaunt labored under any illusions on that account. Rahel had come to see her brother, Estha. They were two-egg twins. "Dizygotic" doctors called them. Born from separate but simultaneously fertilized eggs. Estha- Esthappen-- was the older by eighteen minutes.
They never did look much like each other, Estha and Rahel, and even when they were thin- armed children, flat-chasted, wormridden and Elvis presley-puffed, there was none of the usual " Who is who?" and "Which is which?" from oversmilling relatives or the Syrian Orthodox bishops who frequently visited the Ayemenem House for donations.
The confusion lay in a deeper, more secret place.
Read the following passage and answer the question that follows by selecting the correct option:
In the quaint village of Malgudi, nestled between lush green fields and swaying palm trees, lived a man named Raghavan. He was known for his peculiar habit of collecting colourful pebbles from the riverbank every morning. The villagers, initially perplexed by this ritual, soon came to see it as a unique aspect of Raghavan’s character.
One day, as the Sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, Raghavan discovered a pebble
unlike any he had seen before. It shimmered with an iridescent glow, casting a magical aura around it. Intrigued, he decided to keep this special pebble in a small wooden box on his windowsill.
As days passed, rumours of the enchanted pebble spread across Malgudi, attracting visitors from neighbouring villages. They sought Raghavan’s wisdom, believing that the mystical pebble held the answers to life’s mysteries. Raghavan, a humble man, shared his insights with those who came, emphasising the beauty of simplicity and the magic within everyday moments.
Raghavan’s neighbour, Murrku, jealous of his success, decided to rob him off the pebble and sell it off to a bidder at a good price. This was important as he would be able to buy the most expensive doll for his daughter Rae on her birthday. He spent days and nights planning for the robbery and was successful in fulfilling his target. But this did not make any difference in Rae’s birthday celebration which had been complete with the simple toy made out of house- hold stuff presented to her by Raghavan. Murrku understood Raghavan’s simple philosophy of life. In the bid to get the most precious gift for his daughter, Murrku had forgotten Rae’s
birthday.
Read the passage and answer the question given below by selecting the correct option:
A recent study by researchers from Basel University and Munich Technical University challenges prior beliefs about the influence of different light colours on the human body’s internal clock and sleep-wake rhythm. Unlike a previous study conducted on mice, this one suggests,
that light colour may be less critical for the internal clock than originally thought.
Vision involves a complex process of perceiving various light wavelengths as colours and brightness in the brain. Photoreceptors in the retina convert light into electrical impulses, transmitted to ganglion cells in the retina and to the visual cortex in the brain. Specialised ganglion cells play a significant role in the internal clock, being sensitive to short-wavelength light at around 490 nanometers, perceived as blue. When activated by short-wavelength light, these cells signal “it’s daytime” to the internal clock.
To explore the influence of light colour on the internal clock, the researchers exposed 16 healthy volunteers to blueish or yellowish light stimuli for one hour in late evening with a white light stimulus as a control condition. The light stimuli were designed to selectively activate the colour-sensitive cones in the retina, while maintaining consistent stimulation of the light-sensitive ganglion cells in all conditions. This allowed the researchers to directly check effects of light on the respective cone stimulation and, the colour of the light.
Contrary to the findings in mice, the study suggests that the colour of light, as encoded by the cones, may not significantly influence the human internal clock and sleep-wake rhythm. The current research contradicts the earlier finding that yellowish light had a stronger influence on the internal clock than blueish light. The results, published in “Nature Human Behaviour”, imply that while light intensity and exposure duration remain crucial factors, the colour of light may not play as significant a role in influencing sleep and circadian rhythms as previously believed.
Five a Day
A new study backs up the long-standing nutritional guideline that consuming five daily servings of a variety of fruits and vegetables is linked to longevity. People who daily consumed specifically two fruits and three vegetables had a 12 per cent lower risk of death from car- diovascular disease, a 10 per cent lower risk from cancer, and a 35 per cent lower risk from respiratory disease, compared with people who ate just two daily servings.
One ’serving’ is 125 millilitres of any vegetables or fruits, or 250 millilitres of salad greens. You get the same beneficial vitamins, minerals and fibre in both, but vegetables are lower in calories and sugar, which is why the guidelines recommend higher consumption levels for them. The findings included two studies of more than 1,00,000 American men and women who were followed for up to 30 years. Those studies were then added to 24 other studies from across the globe to conduct one large meta-analysis on more than 1.8 million participants. Variety is the key, because different fruits and vegetables contain different beneficial nutrients and antioxidants. Almost all fruits and vegetables were associated with lower mortality, but there were exceptions. Fruit juices and starchy vegetables such as peas, corn, and potatoes were not associated with reduced risk of death or chronic diseases. It may be due to their higher glycaemic load.
Your five daily servings can be met from a variety of fresh, frozen or canned fruits and vegetables, whether conventional or organic. Whichever options are available, affordable, and appealing are good choices.
Studies show that freezing and canning preserves nutrients, which makes these foods even more nutrient-dense than their fresh counterparts. They are good options for people whose barriers to consuming enough servings per day include the high cost, low access, poor quality and lack of variety of fresh fruits and vegetables.
Read the passage carefully and answer the question given below by selecting the correct option:
On September 30, 2001, I (Dr APJ Abdul Kalam) found myself on a journey from Ranchi to Bokaro in Jharkhand. The helicopter carrying me crashed just before landing, its engine failing with a thud upon impact. Miraculously, all on board escaped unharmed. Grateful to God, I proceeded with my scheduled programme in Bokaro, unfazed by the incident. That night, doctors suggested a tranquilliser to ease perceived shock, leading to an early and disturbed sleep, filled with contemplation.
Amidst this intense dream, I stood in a moonlit desert with five revered figures: Mahatma Gandhi, Albert Einstein, Emperor Asoka, Abraham Lincoln, and Caliph Omar. Asoka’s reflection on the Kalinga war symbolised a shift from conquest to compassion, inspiring a doctrine of non-violence, Ahimsa Dharma.
In this profound dream-conversation, these figures shared wisdom on humanity’s deep divisions caused by violence. They emphasised peace, equality, and the significance of ethical values in human consciousness. Asoka, having witnessed the consequences of his victories, highlighted the futility of causing suffering and the triumph of a peaceful kingdom.
Awakening from this vivid dream, I contemplated the contrasting forces of good and destruction in the world. The challenges faced by humanity, from conflicts to natural disasters and terrorism, prompted deep reflection. Yet, despite these challenges, I held a determined belief
in finding an everlasting solution.
Motivated by this dream and a desire to contribute to the greater good, I made a significant decision. Shifting focus from my scientific career, awards, and teams, I aimed to discover India’s true essence in its children. This marked a transcendence of personal achievements, emphasising the importance of nurturing enlightened individuals and fostering the inner, higher self in the youth. My commitment was to contribute to the enduring intelligence of India through meaningful interaction with joyous, young minds.
APJ Abdul Kalam ’Ignited Minds’
Read the given passage and answer the six questions that follow.
On a chilly winter evening, nothing warms you up better than a cup of hot cocoa. Chocolate was first consumed in liquid form by the Olmec people of northwestern Central America around 1500 BCE. It was even enjoyed by the Aztec Emperor Montezuma, and the Aztec word for it (xocolatl, pronounced shoh-kwah-tl) evolved into the English word Chocolate.
But the Aztecs didn’t serve their cocoa hot. And since sugar had not yet arrived from Europe, back then, the drink was often flavoured with peppers and spices. It may not have been quite as indulgent as today’s version, but it was more palatable if you believed, as the Aztecs did, that chocolate was a gift from the Gods and had healing properties.
After the Spanish arrived in the Americas in the 1500s, liquid chocolate made its way across the pond, where wealthy Europeans added sugar and drank it warm. In Chocolate: History, Culture and Heritage, author Bertram Gordon says hot chocolate became ‘‘the beverage of the aristocracy,’’ as sugar was still a luxury.
Soon enough, though, hot choclate caught on with the masses. Chocolate houses — a cross between cafes and casinos — started popping up around 17th-century Europe. In these lively places, hot chocolate was poured from gilded pots into elegant cups (for a posh experience, one can still find it today at the famed Parisian tearoom Angelina’s, which is also in New York City). But by the end of the 18th century, chocolate houses had mostly died off, partly because the cost of chocolate was much higher than that of coffee or tea.
Taking a tour of international cups of cocoa, Italians serve it like a thick pudding. Colombians serve it with a dollop of soft cheese while Mexicans punch it up with vanilla, chilli powder and cinnamon. And Filipinos serve it with mango chunks.
Read the given passage and answer the six questions that follow.
Coffee’s genetic make-up is no trivial concern; 10 million tonnes of the crop were grown and sold in 2022–23. The coffee that we drink comes from two species: Coffea Canephora, which is also known as Robusta and Coffea Arabica, known as Arabica. In many cases, beans from the two species are blended to make a brew. But the beans of single species are also roasted and sold. Overall, Arabica beans represent around 56% of all coffee sold.
The above is an exacting definition of free will. What we commonly mean by free will is that we have a choice in most situations like, who you choose to marry, what profession you pursue or how you react to someone’s aggression. Sounds reasonable. But here’s the catch. Our ability to make that choice too is significantly restricted, dictated by our predispositions.
Most genetic variation in living organisms comes from hybridization with other species. However, this is a relatively rare event for Coffea Arabica because it has more than two copies of each chromosome — a phenomenon called polyploidy. Coffea Canephora has two copies of each chromosome, but Coffea Arabica contains multiple copies. This makes it much more difficult for Arabica to interbreed with other species.
As a result, Coffea Arabica’s main source of single nucleotide variation is mutation, which occurs at a steady rate over time. However, the species is also relatively young, having formed as a hybrid of Robusta and Coffea Eugenioides — another coffee species that is not widely cultivated — within the past 50,000 years. From that single plant, which has basically no variation, you create the whole species, and then the variation is only the novel mutations that have occurred since that event.
Despite this, there is substantial variation in the physical characteristics of the Arabica coffee plant, including different flavour profiles in the beans and variations in disease resistance, says emeritus geneticist Juan Medrano at the UC Davis Coffee Center at the University of California, Davis. “We’re always talking about low variability at the DNA level, but there is variability at the structural level, at the chromosomal level, at the level of deletions … and insertions,” Medrano says.
Read the given passage and answer the six questions that follow.
Free will is the ability to decide and act free from any influence of past events or environment. It implies complete freedom to make any choice absolutely. We clearly don't have free will. Our decisions and actions are never divorced from our past.
We have a conditioned mind. Our memories, past impressions and experiences bias and shape our thoughts and actions in the present. It is our karmic imprint. Not just what we are born with, but also what we accumulate while living. We can consider it as the result of our genetic code, upbringing and environment. It's our backstory.
The only way to experience free will is to get rid of all such conditioning; to neutralise our karmic imprint; to be independent of our psychological coding. That’s possible only if we can purify our mind by letting go of all our ego, attachments and fixed beliefs. Then we can reside in the truth of our being.
The above is an exacting definition of free will. What we commonly mean by free will is that we have a choice in most situations like, who you choose to marry, what profession you pursue or how you react to someone’s aggression. Sounds reasonable. But here’s the catch. Our ability to make that choice too is significantly restricted, dictated by our predispositions.
This applies even to our ability to bring about change within ourselves. Despite a strong resolve to be calmer, kinder or less anxious, our ability to manifest that change depends, partly on our emotional and mental wiring. That’s why some people succeed in such efforts more than the others.
If you wish to expand the scope of your agency, explore ways to engage in sustained inner work, deepen your self-awareness, examine and reform your conditioned beliefs. But then, I wonder if your inclination to embark on that journey too depends on your current karmic coding.
Read the given passage and answer the six questions that follow.
When I was in my late teens and still undecided about which language I should write in, he told me that the language one is born into, one’s mother tongue, can be the only possible medium of creative expression. For most of his life, my father, Sripat Rai, had been a Hindi editor and critic. Off and on, he translated writings into English from Hindi. He was fond of saying that a failed writer becomes a critic. The weight of his literary expectation came, eventually, to rest on me. He seemed happy that I was showing an inclination for writing. ‘‘She will go far,’’ he told my mother after reading the first story that I sent him from Melbourne. My father’s pronouncement on the mother tongue stayed with me when I later started writing fiction in Hindi. Another thing that I barely acknowledged even to myself was that I felt something like shame whenever I thought of writing in English. It seemed wrong for a granddaughter of Premchand even to be thinking so. Our family had a certain linguistic pride. I knew that Premchand was famous, but I had not at that time realised the extent of his popularity. The fact that I was the granddaughter of Premchand, followed me everywhere. Everyone had a story to tell about their personal engagement with his fiction — the shopkeeper, the long time cook in my father’s Delhi house, a tea vendor, etc. The list was long, for there was practically no one who had not read something by him that had moved them. However, it was this very ubiquity, the reverence and love that he inspired in people, that made of him something too large for me to comprehend in the early years of my life. It led also to the strange feeling that, without having read him and just by being related to him, I had somehow inhaled his writing. The reading happened much later.
The State of Food Security and Nutrition in the World report (2024) revealed that 733 million people faced malnutrition in 2023—an increase of 152 million since 2019. This trend is linked to food price dynamics. In 2022, the World Bank estimated that a 1% rise in global food prices could push 10 million people into extreme poverty. Rising food costs and inequality have intensified “hidden hunger,” affecting at least 2.8 billion people in 2022 alone.
Hidden hunger is a deficiency of essential micronutrients like zinc, iodine, and iron. The signs of this form of malnutrition are “hidden” as individuals may appear healthy while suffering severe health impacts. Clinical signs emerge only in extreme cases. Traditionally linked to caloric deficiency, hunger is now recognized to include micronutrient inadequacy, which can harm health even without overt signs of disease.
The Food Security and Nutrition report highlights that while it may seem intuitive that food-insecure individuals are less likely to maintain a healthy diet, the relationship is complex, shaped by factors like food environments, consumer behaviour, and the affordability of nutritious foods.
In some cases, food insecurity is linked to lower consumption of all food types and a higher reliance on staple foods for dietary energy. In others, it can be associated with reduced intake of nutritious foods and increased consumption of energy-dense foods high in unhealthy fats, sugars, and salt. As a result, food insecurity and “hidden hunger” can result not only in undernutrition but can also lead to overweight and obesity.
If my younger self could see me now, she would be incredulous. That I work in the field of dance or decipher and translate dance for my own comprehension, call it choreography if you wish, would have been unbelievable. In this respect, I am particularly envious of dancers who claim that they are ’born to dance’, implying that it was clearly laid out for them from the beginning. I must say, I find this assertion dubious; it is rarely that easy. ’To dance’ means ’to struggle’.
In all truth, as a child, I never did want to dance; it was forced upon me by a doting mother and a silent father. My father probably kept his peace to avoid argument. From the beginning, my lessons took place under trying conditions, though I believe that the conditions were more trying for my mother than for me. She travelled in local, over-crowded trains to the dance class with an unwilling child, tired from a whole day at school. Interestingly, when I was seven, we went to see a movie starring Mumtaz Ali, who did a dance number in the film. When we arrived home, I began prancing around the house imitating the film actor and my mother, who was quietly watching, was the one who said, ’Kumudini, you are born to dance.’ Ironically, I have no recollection of this story; it was my mother who saw this innate ability in me.
The next stage of the visit began as Mrs. Broadwith brought in a cup of tea and the rest of the animals were let out of the kitchen. It was the usual scenario for the many cups of tea I had drunk with Miss Stubbs under the little card which dangled above her bed.
”How are you today?” I asked.
’Oh! much better,’ she replied and immediately changed the subject.
Mostly she liked to talk about her pets and the ones she had known right back to her girlhood. She spoke a lot too, about the days her family was alive. She loved to describe the escapades of her three brothers and today she showed me a photograph which Mrs. Broadwith had found.
’Oh, they were young rips!’ she exclaimed. She laughed and for a moment her face was radiant, by her memories.
The things I had heard in the village came back to me; about the prosperous father and his family who lived in the big house once. Then the foreign investments crashed and the sudden circumstances. ’When the old father died, he was almost penniless,’ one old man said. ’There is not much brass there now.’
Probably just enough brass to keep Miss Stubbs and her animals alive and pay Mrs. Broadwith. And, sitting there, I felt as I had often– a bit afraid of the responsibility I had. The one thing which brought some light into the life of the brave old woman was the devotion of this shaggy bunch whose eyes were never far from her face.
Read the sentence and infer the writer's tone: "The politician's speech was filled with lofty promises and little substance, a performance repeated every election season."