Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below it. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions.

The other day, a student asked me what exactly the word ‘liberal’ mean. She wanted to know whether ‘liberalisation’ promotes ‘liberal’ values. She had noticed that institutions of higher education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures triggered by the process of economic liberalisation. So, was economic liberalism different from political liberalism? And what do people mean when they refer to neo-liberal policies? The questions she was asking could hardly be addressed without invoking the political economy that has emerged over the last three decades.

When liberalisation of the economy started to receive common consent in the mid-1980s, few people thought of examining what it would mean for education. Then, in 1991 came the dramatic announcement of a new economic policy, accompanied by a package of steps to be taken for ‘structural adjustment’ of the Indian economy. The purpose of ‘adjustment’ was to facilitate India’s integration into the global economy. Even then, education didn’t receive specific attention. Some critics of the new economic policy expressed anxiety about the consequences of state withdrawal from its prime role and responsibility in sectors like education and health. The national policy on education drafted in 1986 had mostly adhered to the established state-centric view. A major review in the early 1990s vaguely resonated the new discourse of liberalisation, but offered little evidence of change in the basic perspective. The Programme of Action, announced in 1992, stopped short of admitting that the state’s role in education was about to change. Nobody could imagine at that point that over the following decades, the state’s role in education would change so much that the Constitution would begin to sound like rhetoric.

In order to examine what happened, we must make a distinction between school and higher education. When Prime Minister P.V. NarasimhaRao spoke about liberalisation as the central theme of the new economic policy, he also referred to the ‘structural adjustment programme’. Under this programme, the World Bank offered a ‘safety net’ for primary education. It meant additional resources and policy guidance to enable the system to expand its capacity for enrolling children. The District Primary Education Programme (DPEP), which later mutated into SarvaShikshaAbhiyan (SSA), symbolised the ‘safety net’ approach. It was designed to cushion the harsh effects that ‘structural adjustment’ under liberalisation was expected to cause in welfare sectors like children’s education and health. The DPEP and SSA efficiently served this role, creating an ethos in which children’s education seemed to have become a major priority of the state. The success of these programmes emboldened the government to push the Right to Education (RTE) law through Parliament. Governments of many States registered their anxiety over their capacity to fund the implementation of RTE after the Central assistance provided under SSA runs dry.

In higher education, the new economic policy designed on the principles of liberalisation offered no safety net. From the beginning, the assumption was that higher education ought to generate its own resources. An accompanying idea was that higher education should respond to market demands in terms of knowledge and skills. Over the last three decades, these two guiding ideas have dented the established system of higher education in all parts of the country. Both Central and State universities have been starved of financial resources. Cutting down on permanent staff, both teaching and non-teaching, has emerged as the best strategy to cope with financial crunch. A complex set of outcomes, specific to different universities, makes any general analysis difficult. In some, self-financed courses, mostly vocational in nature, have provided a means of income. In others, such courses have been resisted by teacher unions. However, these unions have gradually lost their power and say because they are broken from within.

Which of the following statement is/are true according to the passage?

i. The purpose of ‘adjustment’ was to facilitate India’s integration into the global economy.

ii. It was designed to cushion the harsh effects that ‘structural adjustment’ under liberalisation was not expected to cause in welfare sectors like children’s education and health.

iii. The national policy on education drafted in 1986 had mostly adhered to the established state-centric view.

Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below it. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions.

The other day, a student asked me what exactly the word ‘liberal’ mean. She wanted to know whether ‘liberalisation’ promotes ‘liberal’ values. She had noticed that institutions of higher education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures triggered by the process of economic liberalisation. So, was economic liberalism different from political liberalism? And what do people mean when they refer to neo-liberal policies? The questions she was asking could hardly be addressed without invoking the political economy that has emerged over the last three decades.

When liberalisation of the economy started to receive common consent in the mid-1980s, few people thought of examining what it would mean for education. Then, in 1991 came the dramatic announcement of a new economic policy, accompanied by a package of steps to be taken for ‘structural adjustment’ of the Indian economy. The purpose of ‘adjustment’ was to facilitate India’s integration into the global economy. Even then, education didn’t receive specific attention. Some critics of the new economic policy expressed anxiety about the consequences of state withdrawal from its prime role and responsibility in sectors like education and health. The national policy on education drafted in 1986 had mostly adhered to the established state-centric view. A major review in the early 1990s vaguely resonated the new discourse of liberalisation, but offered little evidence of change in the basic perspective. The Programme of Action, announced in 1992, stopped short of admitting that the state’s role in education was about to change. Nobody could imagine at that point that over the following decades, the state’s role in education would change so much that the Constitution would begin to sound like rhetoric.

In order to examine what happened, we must make a distinction between school and higher education. When Prime Minister P.V. NarasimhaRao spoke about liberalisation as the central theme of the new economic policy, he also referred to the ‘structural adjustment programme’. Under this programme, the World Bank offered a ‘safety net’ for primary education. It meant additional resources and policy guidance to enable the system to expand its capacity for enrolling children. The District Primary Education Programme (DPEP), which later mutated into SarvaShikshaAbhiyan (SSA), symbolised the ‘safety net’ approach. It was designed to cushion the harsh effects that ‘structural adjustment’ under liberalisation was expected to cause in welfare sectors like children’s education and health. The DPEP and SSA efficiently served this role, creating an ethos in which children’s education seemed to have become a major priority of the state. The success of these programmes emboldened the government to push the Right to Education (RTE) law through Parliament. Governments of many States registered their anxiety over their capacity to fund the implementation of RTE after the Central assistance provided under SSA runs dry.

In higher education, the new economic policy designed on the principles of liberalisation offered no safety net. From the beginning, the assumption was that higher education ought to generate its own resources. An accompanying idea was that higher education should respond to market demands in terms of knowledge and skills. Over the last three decades, these two guiding ideas have dented the established system of higher education in all parts of the country. Both Central and State universities have been starved of financial resources. Cutting down on permanent staff, both teaching and non-teaching, has emerged as the best strategy to cope with financial crunch. A complex set of outcomes, specific to different universities, makes any general analysis difficult. In some, self-financed courses, mostly vocational in nature, have provided a means of income. In others, such courses have been resisted by teacher unions. However, these unions have gradually lost their power and say because they are broken from within.

3.What was the central theme of new economic policy according to the given passage?

Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below it. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions.

The other day, a student asked me what exactly the word ‘liberal’ mean. She wanted to know whether ‘liberalisation’ promotes ‘liberal’ values. She had noticed that institutions of higher education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures triggered by the process of economic liberalisation. So, was economic liberalism different from political liberalism? And what do people mean when they refer to neo-liberal policies? The questions she was asking could hardly be addressed without invoking the political economy that has emerged over the last three decades.

When liberalisation of the economy started to receive common consent in the mid-1980s, few people thought of examining what it would mean for education. Then, in 1991 came the dramatic announcement of a new economic policy, accompanied by a package of steps to be taken for ‘structural adjustment’ of the Indian economy. The purpose of ‘adjustment’ was to facilitate India’s integration into the global economy. Even then, education didn’t receive specific attention. Some critics of the new economic policy expressed anxiety about the consequences of state withdrawal from its prime role and responsibility in sectors like education and health. The national policy on education drafted in 1986 had mostly adhered to the established state-centric view. A major review in the early 1990s vaguely resonated the new discourse of liberalisation, but offered little evidence of change in the basic perspective. The Programme of Action, announced in 1992, stopped short of admitting that the state’s role in education was about to change. Nobody could imagine at that point that over the following decades, the state’s role in education would change so much that the Constitution would begin to sound like rhetoric.

In order to examine what happened, we must make a distinction between school and higher education. When Prime Minister P.V. NarasimhaRao spoke about liberalisation as the central theme of the new economic policy, he also referred to the ‘structural adjustment programme’. Under this programme, the World Bank offered a ‘safety net’ for primary education. It meant additional resources and policy guidance to enable the system to expand its capacity for enrolling children. The District Primary Education Programme (DPEP), which later mutated into SarvaShikshaAbhiyan (SSA), symbolised the ‘safety net’ approach. It was designed to cushion the harsh effects that ‘structural adjustment’ under liberalisation was expected to cause in welfare sectors like children’s education and health. The DPEP and SSA efficiently served this role, creating an ethos in which children’s education seemed to have become a major priority of the state. The success of these programmes emboldened the government to push the Right to Education (RTE) law through Parliament. Governments of many States registered their anxiety over their capacity to fund the implementation of RTE after the Central assistance provided under SSA runs dry.

In higher education, the new economic policy designed on the principles of liberalisation offered no safety net. From the beginning, the assumption was that higher education ought to generate its own resources. An accompanying idea was that higher education should respond to market demands in terms of knowledge and skills. Over the last three decades, these two guiding ideas have dented the established system of higher education in all parts of the country. Both Central and State universities have been starved of financial resources. Cutting down on permanent staff, both teaching and non-teaching, has emerged as the best strategy to cope with financial crunch. A complex set of outcomes, specific to different universities, makes any general analysis difficult. In some, self-financed courses, mostly vocational in nature, have provided a means of income. In others, such courses have been resisted by teacher unions. However, these unions have gradually lost their power and say because they are broken from within.

4. Which two guiding ideas have dented the established system of higher education in the country?

Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below it. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions.

The other day, a student asked me what exactly the word ‘liberal’ mean. She wanted to know whether ‘liberalisation’ promotes ‘liberal’ values. She had noticed that institutions of higher education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures triggered by the process of economic liberalisation. So, was economic liberalism different from political liberalism? And what do people mean when they refer to neo-liberal policies? The questions she was asking could hardly be addressed without invoking the political economy that has emerged over the last three decades.

When liberalisation of the economy started to receive common consent in the mid-1980s, few people thought of examining what it would mean for education. Then, in 1991 came the dramatic announcement of a new economic policy, accompanied by a package of steps to be taken for ‘structural adjustment’ of the Indian economy. The purpose of ‘adjustment’ was to facilitate India’s integration into the global economy. Even then, education didn’t receive specific attention. Some critics of the new economic policy expressed anxiety about the consequences of state withdrawal from its prime role and responsibility in sectors like education and health. The national policy on education drafted in 1986 had mostly adhered to the established state-centric view. A major review in the early 1990s vaguely resonated the new discourse of liberalisation, but offered little evidence of change in the basic perspective. The Programme of Action, announced in 1992, stopped short of admitting that the state’s role in education was about to change. Nobody could imagine at that point that over the following decades, the state’s role in education would change so much that the Constitution would begin to sound like rhetoric.

In order to examine what happened, we must make a distinction between school and higher education. When Prime Minister P.V. NarasimhaRao spoke about liberalisation as the central theme of the new economic policy, he also referred to the ‘structural adjustment programme’. Under this programme, the World Bank offered a ‘safety net’ for primary education. It meant additional resources and policy guidance to enable the system to expand its capacity for enrolling children. The District Primary Education Programme (DPEP), which later mutated into SarvaShikshaAbhiyan (SSA), symbolised the ‘safety net’ approach. It was designed to cushion the harsh effects that ‘structural adjustment’ under liberalisation was expected to cause in welfare sectors like children’s education and health. The DPEP and SSA efficiently served this role, creating an ethos in which children’s education seemed to have become a major priority of the state. The success of these programmes emboldened the government to push the Right to Education (RTE) law through Parliament. Governments of many States registered their anxiety over their capacity to fund the implementation of RTE after the Central assistance provided under SSA runs dry.

In higher education, the new economic policy designed on the principles of liberalisation offered no safety net. From the beginning, the assumption was that higher education ought to generate its own resources. An accompanying idea was that higher education should respond to market demands in terms of knowledge and skills. Over the last three decades, these two guiding ideas have dented the established system of higher education in all parts of the country. Both Central and State universities have been starved of financial resources. Cutting down on permanent staff, both teaching and non-teaching, has emerged as the best strategy to cope with financial crunch. A complex set of outcomes, specific to different universities, makes any general analysis difficult. In some, self-financed courses, mostly vocational in nature, have provided a means of income. In others, such courses have been resisted by teacher unions. However, these unions have gradually lost their power and say because they are broken from within.

5. Which of the following statement is not true according to the passage?

i. The questions she was asking could hardly be addressed without invoking the political economy that has emerged over the last three decades.

ii. Some critics of the new economic policy expressed anxiety about the consequences of state withdrawal from its prime role and responsibility in sectors like education and health.

iii. In 1991 came the dramatic announcement of a new economic policy, accompanied by a package of steps to be taken for ‘structural adjustment’ of the Indian education.

iv. All are true.

Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below it. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions.

The other day, a student asked me what exactly the word ‘liberal’ mean. She wanted to know whether ‘liberalisation’ promotes ‘liberal’ values. She had noticed that institutions of higher education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures triggered by the process of economic liberalisation. So, was economic liberalism different from political liberalism? And what do people mean when they refer to neo-liberal policies? The questions she was asking could hardly be addressed without invoking the political economy that has emerged over the last three decades.

When liberalisation of the economy started to receive common consent in the mid-1980s, few people thought of examining what it would mean for education. Then, in 1991 came the dramatic announcement of a new economic policy, accompanied by a package of steps to be taken for ‘structural adjustment’ of the Indian economy. The purpose of ‘adjustment’ was to facilitate India’s integration into the global economy. Even then, education didn’t receive specific attention. Some critics of the new economic policy expressed anxiety about the consequences of state withdrawal from its prime role and responsibility in sectors like education and health. The national policy on education drafted in 1986 had mostly adhered to the established state-centric view. A major review in the early 1990s vaguely resonated the new discourse of liberalisation, but offered little evidence of change in the basic perspective. The Programme of Action, announced in 1992, stopped short of admitting that the state’s role in education was about to change. Nobody could imagine at that point that over the following decades, the state’s role in education would change so much that the Constitution would begin to sound like rhetoric.

In order to examine what happened, we must make a distinction between school and higher education. When Prime Minister P.V. NarasimhaRao spoke about liberalisation as the central theme of the new economic policy, he also referred to the ‘structural adjustment programme’. Under this programme, the World Bank offered a ‘safety net’ for primary education. It meant additional resources and policy guidance to enable the system to expand its capacity for enrolling children. The District Primary Education Programme (DPEP), which later mutated into SarvaShikshaAbhiyan (SSA), symbolised the ‘safety net’ approach. It was designed to cushion the harsh effects that ‘structural adjustment’ under liberalisation was expected to cause in welfare sectors like children’s education and health. The DPEP and SSA efficiently served this role, creating an ethos in which children’s education seemed to have become a major priority of the state. The success of these programmes emboldened the government to push the Right to Education (RTE) law through Parliament. Governments of many States registered their anxiety over their capacity to fund the implementation of RTE after the Central assistance provided under SSA runs dry.

In higher education, the new economic policy designed on the principles of liberalisation offered no safety net. From the beginning, the assumption was that higher education ought to generate its own resources. An accompanying idea was that higher education should respond to market demands in terms of knowledge and skills. Over the last three decades, these two guiding ideas have dented the established system of higher education in all parts of the country. Both Central and State universities have been starved of financial resources. Cutting down on permanent staff, both teaching and non-teaching, has emerged as the best strategy to cope with financial crunch. A complex set of outcomes, specific to different universities, makes any general analysis difficult. In some, self-financed courses, mostly vocational in nature, have provided a means of income. In others, such courses have been resisted by teacher unions. However, these unions have gradually lost their power and say because they are broken from within.

Choose the word which is MOST SIMILAR in meaning of the word printed in bold as used in the passage.

Triggered

(i) Started

(ii) Stooped

(iii) Arrested

Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below it. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions.

The other day, a student asked me what exactly the word ‘liberal’ mean. She wanted to know whether ‘liberalisation’ promotes ‘liberal’ values. She had noticed that institutions of higher education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures triggered by the process of economic liberalisation. So, was economic liberalism different from political liberalism? And what do people mean when they refer to neo-liberal policies? The questions she was asking could hardly be addressed without invoking the political economy that has emerged over the last three decades.

When liberalisation of the economy started to receive common consent in the mid-1980s, few people thought of examining what it would mean for education. Then, in 1991 came the dramatic announcement of a new economic policy, accompanied by a package of steps to be taken for ‘structural adjustment’ of the Indian economy. The purpose of ‘adjustment’ was to facilitate India’s integration into the global economy. Even then, education didn’t receive specific attention. Some critics of the new economic policy expressed anxiety about the consequences of state withdrawal from its prime role and responsibility in sectors like education and health. The national policy on education drafted in 1986 had mostly adhered to the established state-centric view. A major review in the early 1990s vaguely resonated the new discourse of liberalisation, but offered little evidence of change in the basic perspective. The Programme of Action, announced in 1992, stopped short of admitting that the state’s role in education was about to change. Nobody could imagine at that point that over the following decades, the state’s role in education would change so much that the Constitution would begin to sound like rhetoric.

In order to examine what happened, we must make a distinction between school and higher education. When Prime Minister P.V. NarasimhaRao spoke about liberalisation as the central theme of the new economic policy, he also referred to the ‘structural adjustment programme’. Under this programme, the World Bank offered a ‘safety net’ for primary education. It meant additional resources and policy guidance to enable the system to expand its capacity for enrolling children. The District Primary Education Programme (DPEP), which later mutated into SarvaShikshaAbhiyan (SSA), symbolised the ‘safety net’ approach. It was designed to cushion the harsh effects that ‘structural adjustment’ under liberalisation was expected to cause in welfare sectors like children’s education and health. The DPEP and SSA efficiently served this role, creating an ethos in which children’s education seemed to have become a major priority of the state. The success of these programmes emboldened the government to push the Right to Education (RTE) law through Parliament. Governments of many States registered their anxiety over their capacity to fund the implementation of RTE after the Central assistance provided under SSA runs dry.

In higher education, the new economic policy designed on the principles of liberalisation offered no safety net. From the beginning, the assumption was that higher education ought to generate its own resources. An accompanying idea was that higher education should respond to market demands in terms of knowledge and skills. Over the last three decades, these two guiding ideas have dented the established system of higher education in all parts of the country. Both Central and State universities have been starved of financial resources. Cutting down on permanent staff, both teaching and non-teaching, has emerged as the best strategy to cope with financial crunch. A complex set of outcomes, specific to different universities, makes any general analysis difficult. In some, self-financed courses, mostly vocational in nature, have provided a means of income. In others, such courses have been resisted by teacher unions. However, these unions have gradually lost their power and say because they are broken from within.

7. Choose the word which is MOST SIMILAR in meaning of the word printed in bold as used in the passage.

Liberal

(i)Kind

(ii) Generous

(ii) Narrow-minded

Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below it. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions.

The other day, a student asked me what exactly the word ‘liberal’ mean. She wanted to know whether ‘liberalisation’ promotes ‘liberal’ values. She had noticed that institutions of higher education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures education, which are supposed to promote liberal values, were finding it difficult to resist ideological and commercial pressures triggered by the process of economic liberalisation. So, was economic liberalism different from political liberalism? And what do people mean when they refer to neo-liberal policies? The questions she was asking could hardly be addressed without invoking the political economy that has emerged over the last three decades.

When liberalisation of the economy started to receive common consent in the mid-1980s, few people thought of examining what it would mean for education. Then, in 1991 came the dramatic announcement of a new economic policy, accompanied by a package of steps to be taken for ‘structural adjustment’ of the Indian economy. The purpose of ‘adjustment’ was to facilitate India’s integration into the global economy. Even then, education didn’t receive specific attention. Some critics of the new economic policy expressed anxiety about the consequences of state withdrawal from its prime role and responsibility in sectors like education and health. The national policy on education drafted in 1986 had mostly adhered to the established state-centric view. A major review in the early 1990s vaguely resonated the new discourse of liberalisation, but offered little evidence of change in the basic perspective. The Programme of Action, announced in 1992, stopped short of admitting that the state’s role in education was about to change. Nobody could imagine at that point that over the following decades, the state’s role in education would change so much that the Constitution would begin to sound like rhetoric.

In order to examine what happened, we must make a distinction between school and higher education. When Prime Minister P.V. NarasimhaRao spoke about liberalisation as the central theme of the new economic policy, he also referred to the ‘structural adjustment programme’. Under this programme, the World Bank offered a ‘safety net’ for primary education. It meant additional resources and policy guidance to enable the system to expand its capacity for enrolling children. The District Primary Education Programme (DPEP), which later mutated into SarvaShikshaAbhiyan (SSA), symbolised the ‘safety net’ approach. It was designed to cushion the harsh effects that ‘structural adjustment’ under liberalisation was expected to cause in welfare sectors like children’s education and health. The DPEP and SSA efficiently served this role, creating an ethos in which children’s education seemed to have become a major priority of the state. The success of these programmes emboldened the government to push the Right to Education (RTE) law through Parliament. Governments of many States registered their anxiety over their capacity to fund the implementation of RTE after the Central assistance provided under SSA runs dry.

In higher education, the new economic policy designed on the principles of liberalisation offered no safety net. From the beginning, the assumption was that higher education ought to generate its own resources. An accompanying idea was that higher education should respond to market demands in terms of knowledge and skills. Over the last three decades, these two guiding ideas have dented the established system of higher education in all parts of the country. Both Central and State universities have been starved of financial resources. Cutting down on permanent staff, both teaching and non-teaching, has emerged as the best strategy to cope with financial crunch. A complex set of outcomes, specific to different universities, makes any general analysis difficult. In some, self-financed courses, mostly vocational in nature, have provided a means of income. In others, such courses have been resisted by teacher unions. However, these unions have gradually lost their power and say because they are broken from within.

8. Choose the word which is MOST OPPOSITE in meaning of the word printed in bold as used in the passage.

Rhetoric

(i)Mispronouncement

(ii) Oratory

(iii) Silent

Rhetoric’s opposite: Mispronouncement, Silent

The collapse of a great wall of garbage in east Delhi’s Ghazipur area, sweeping people and vehicles into a nearby canal, is a stark reminder that India’s neglected waste management crisis can have deadly consequences. More than a year after the notification of the much-delayed Solid Waste Management Rules, cities and towns are in no position to comply with its stipulations, beginning with the segregation of different kinds of waste at source and their scientific processing. Neither are urban local governments treating the 62 million tonnes of waste generated annually in the country as a potential resource. They have left the task of value extraction mostly to the informal system of garbage collectors and recyclers. Improving on the national record of collecting only 80% of waste generated and being able to process just 28% of that quantum, requires behaviour modification among citizens and institutions. But what is more important is that the municipal bodies put in place an integrated system to transport and process what has been segregated at source. The Swachh Bharat programme of the Centre has focussed too narrowly on individual action to keep streets clean, without concurrent pressure on State and municipal authorities to move closer to scientific management by the deadline of April 2018 set for most places, and arrest the spread of pollution from trash.

In the absence of stakeholders at the local body level, recoverable resources embedded in discarded materials are lost due to dumping. Organic refuse, which forms about 50% of all garbage, readily lends itself to the generation of compost or production of methane for household use or power generation. But it is a major opportunity lost. Organic waste that could help green cities and feed small and affordable household biogas plants is simply being thrown away. It is also ironic that while some countries such as Rwanda and Kenya have introduced stiff penalties for the use of flimsy plastic bags, India is doing little to prevent them from drifting into suburban garbage mountains, rivers, lakes and the sea, and being ingested by cattle feeding on dumped refuse. A new paradigm is needed, in which bulk waste generators take the lead and city managers show demonstrable change in the way it is processed. There has to be a shift away from large budgets for collection and transport by private contractors, to the processing of segregated garbage. As the nodal body for the implementation of the new rules, the Central Pollution Control Board should put out periodic assessments of the preparedness of urban local bodies in the run-up to the deadline. Without a rigorous approach, the national problem of merely shifting city trash to the suburbs, out of sight of those who generate it, will fester and choke the landscape. Considering that waste volumes are officially estimated to grow to 165 million tonnes a year by 2030, many more suburbs are bound to be threatened by collapsing or burning trash mountains.

Question 1. Which among the following is true according to the passage?

The collapse of a great wall of garbage in east Delhi’s Ghazipur area, sweeping people and vehicles into a nearby canal, is a stark reminder that India’s neglected waste management crisis can have deadly consequences. More than a year after the notification of the much-delayed Solid Waste Management Rules, cities and towns are in no position to comply with its stipulations, beginning with the segregation of different kinds of waste at source and their scientific processing. Neither are urban local governments treating the 62 million tonnes of waste generated annually in the country as a potential resource. They have left the task of value extraction mostly to the informal system of garbage collectors and recyclers. Improving on the national record of collecting only 80% of waste generated and being able to process just 28% of that quantum, requires behaviour modification among citizens and institutions. But what is more important is that the municipal bodies put in place an integrated system to transport and process what has been segregated at source. The Swachh Bharat programme of the Centre has focussed too narrowly on individual action to keep streets clean, without concurrent pressure on State and municipal authorities to move closer to scientific management by the deadline of April 2018 set for most places, and arrest the spread of pollution from trash.

In the absence of stakeholders at the local body level, recoverable resources embedded in discarded materials are lost due to dumping. Organic refuse, which forms about 50% of all garbage, readily lends itself to the generation of compost or production of methane for household use or power generation. But it is a major opportunity lost. Organic waste that could help green cities and feed small and affordable household biogas plants is simply being thrown away. It is also ironic that while some countries such as Rwanda and Kenya have introduced stiff penalties for the use of flimsy plastic bags, India is doing little to prevent them from drifting into suburban garbage mountains, rivers, lakes and the sea, and being ingested by cattle feeding on dumped refuse. A new paradigm is needed, in which bulk waste generators take the lead and city managers show demonstrable change in the way it is processed. There has to be a shift away from large budgets for collection and transport by private contractors, to the processing of segregated garbage. As the nodal body for the implementation of the new rules, the Central Pollution Control Board should put out periodic assessments of the preparedness of urban local bodies in the run-up to the deadline. Without a rigorous approach, the national problem of merely shifting city trash to the suburbs, out of sight of those who generate it, will fester and choke the landscape. Considering that waste volumes are officially estimated to grow to 165 million tonnes a year by 2030, many more suburbs are bound to be threatened by collapsing or burning trash mountains.

2.Which of the following can be the suitable title for the passage?

The collapse of a great wall of garbage in east Delhi’s Ghazipur area, sweeping people and vehicles into a nearby canal, is a stark reminder that India’s neglected waste management crisis can have deadly consequences. More than a year after the notification of the much-delayed Solid Waste Management Rules, cities and towns are in no position to comply with its stipulations, beginning with the segregation of different kinds of waste at source and their scientific processing. Neither are urban local governments treating the 62 million tonnes of waste generated annually in the country as a potential resource. They have left the task of value extraction mostly to the informal system of garbage collectors and recyclers. Improving on the national record of collecting only 80% of waste generated and being able to process just 28% of that quantum, requires behaviour modification among citizens and institutions. But what is more important is that the municipal bodies put in place an integrated system to transport and process what has been segregated at source. The Swachh Bharat programme of the Centre has focussed too narrowly on individual action to keep streets clean, without concurrent pressure on State and municipal authorities to move closer to scientific management by the deadline of April 2018 set for most places, and arrest the spread of pollution from trash.

In the absence of stakeholders at the local body level, recoverable resources embedded in discarded materials are lost due to dumping. Organic refuse, which forms about 50% of all garbage, readily lends itself to the generation of compost or production of methane for household use or power generation. But it is a major opportunity lost. Organic waste that could help green cities and feed small and affordable household biogas plants is simply being thrown away. It is also ironic that while some countries such as Rwanda and Kenya have introduced stiff penalties for the use of flimsy plastic bags, India is doing little to prevent them from drifting into suburban garbage mountains, rivers, lakes and the sea, and being ingested by cattle feeding on dumped refuse. A new paradigm is needed, in which bulk waste generators take the lead and city managers show demonstrable change in the way it is processed. There has to be a shift away from large budgets for collection and transport by private contractors, to the processing of segregated garbage. As the nodal body for the implementation of the new rules, the Central Pollution Control Board should put out periodic assessments of the preparedness of urban local bodies in the run-up to the deadline. Without a rigorous approach, the national problem of merely shifting city trash to the suburbs, out of sight of those who generate it, will fester and choke the landscape. Considering that waste volumes are officially estimated to grow to 165 million tonnes a year by 2030, many more suburbs are bound to be threatened by collapsing or burning trash mountains.

Which of the following statement is/are wrong according to the passage.

I. The Swachh Bharat programme of the Centre has focussed too much on individual action to keep streets clean.

II. Organic waste that could help green cities and feed small and affordable household biogas plants is simply being thrown away.

III. Organic refuse, which forms more than 50% of all garbage, readily lends itself to the generation of compost or production of methane for household use or power generation

The collapse of a great wall of garbage in east Delhi’s Ghazipur area, sweeping people and vehicles into a nearby canal, is a stark reminder that India’s neglected waste management crisis can have deadly consequences. More than a year after the notification of the much-delayed Solid Waste Management Rules, cities and towns are in no position to comply with its stipulations, beginning with the segregation of different kinds of waste at source and their scientific processing. Neither are urban local governments treating the 62 million tonnes of waste generated annually in the country as a potential resource. They have left the task of value extraction mostly to the informal system of garbage collectors and recyclers. Improving on the national record of collecting only 80% of waste generated and being able to process just 28% of that quantum, requires behaviour modification among citizens and institutions. But what is more important is that the municipal bodies put in place an integrated system to transport and process what has been segregated at source. The Swachh Bharat programme of the Centre has focussed too narrowly on individual action to keep streets clean, without concurrent pressure on State and municipal authorities to move closer to scientific management by the deadline of April 2018 set for most places, and arrest the spread of pollution from trash.

In the absence of stakeholders at the local body level, recoverable resources embedded in discarded materials are lost due to dumping. Organic refuse, which forms about 50% of all garbage, readily lends itself to the generation of compost or production of methane for household use or power generation. But it is a major opportunity lost. Organic waste that could help green cities and feed small and affordable household biogas plants is simply being thrown away. It is also ironic that while some countries such as Rwanda and Kenya have introduced stiff penalties for the use of flimsy plastic bags, India is doing little to prevent them from drifting into suburban garbage mountains, rivers, lakes and the sea, and being ingested by cattle feeding on dumped refuse. A new paradigm is needed, in which bulk waste generators take the lead and city managers show demonstrable change in the way it is processed. There has to be a shift away from large budgets for collection and transport by private contractors, to the processing of segregated garbage. As the nodal body for the implementation of the new rules, the Central Pollution Control Board should put out periodic assessments of the preparedness of urban local bodies in the run-up to the deadline. Without a rigorous approach, the national problem of merely shifting city trash to the suburbs, out of sight of those who generate it, will fester and choke the landscape. Considering that waste volumes are officially estimated to grow to 165 million tonnes a year by 2030, many more suburbs are bound to be threatened by collapsing or burning trash mountains.

Which of the following country/countries introduced stiff penalties for the use of flimsy plastic bags?

The collapse of a great wall of garbage in east Delhi’s Ghazipur area, sweeping people and vehicles into a nearby canal, is a stark reminder that India’s neglected waste management crisis can have deadly consequences. More than a year after the notification of the much-delayed Solid Waste Management Rules, cities and towns are in no position to comply with its stipulations, beginning with the segregation of different kinds of waste at source and their scientific processing. Neither are urban local governments treating the 62 million tonnes of waste generated annually in the country as a potential resource. They have left the task of value extraction mostly to the informal system of garbage collectors and recyclers. Improving on the national record of collecting only 80% of waste generated and being able to process just 28% of that quantum, requires behaviour modification among citizens and institutions. But what is more important is that the municipal bodies put in place an integrated system to transport and process what has been segregated at source. The Swachh Bharat programme of the Centre has focussed too narrowly on individual action to keep streets clean, without concurrent pressure on State and municipal authorities to move closer to scientific management by the deadline of April 2018 set for most places, and arrest the spread of pollution from trash.

In the absence of stakeholders at the local body level, recoverable resources embedded in discarded materials are lost due to dumping. Organic refuse, which forms about 50% of all garbage, readily lends itself to the generation of compost or production of methane for household use or power generation. But it is a major opportunity lost. Organic waste that could help green cities and feed small and affordable household biogas plants is simply being thrown away. It is also ironic that while some countries such as Rwanda and Kenya have introduced stiff penalties for the use of flimsy plastic bags, India is doing little to prevent them from drifting into suburban garbage mountains, rivers, lakes and the sea, and being ingested by cattle feeding on dumped refuse. A new paradigm is needed, in which bulk waste generators take the lead and city managers show demonstrable change in the way it is processed. There has to be a shift away from large budgets for collection and transport by private contractors, to the processing of segregated garbage. As the nodal body for the implementation of the new rules, the Central Pollution Control Board should put out periodic assessments of the preparedness of urban local bodies in the run-up to the deadline. Without a rigorous approach, the national problem of merely shifting city trash to the suburbs, out of sight of those who generate it, will fester and choke the landscape. Considering that waste volumes are officially estimated to grow to 165 million tonnes a year by 2030, many more suburbs are bound to be threatened by collapsing or burning trash mountains.

Choose the word, which is MOST SIMILAR in meaning of the word printed in bold as used in the passage.

Flimsy

The collapse of a great wall of garbage in east Delhi’s Ghazipur area, sweeping people and vehicles into a nearby canal, is a stark reminder that India’s neglected waste management crisis can have deadly consequences. More than a year after the notification of the much-delayed Solid Waste Management Rules, cities and towns are in no position to comply with its stipulations, beginning with the segregation of different kinds of waste at source and their scientific processing. Neither are urban local governments treating the 62 million tonnes of waste generated annually in the country as a potential resource. They have left the task of value extraction mostly to the informal system of garbage collectors and recyclers. Improving on the national record of collecting only 80% of waste generated and being able to process just 28% of that quantum, requires behaviour modification among citizens and institutions. But what is more important is that the municipal bodies put in place an integrated system to transport and process what has been segregated at source. The Swachh Bharat programme of the Centre has focussed too narrowly on individual action to keep streets clean, without concurrent pressure on State and municipal authorities to move closer to scientific management by the deadline of April 2018 set for most places, and arrest the spread of pollution from trash.

In the absence of stakeholders at the local body level, recoverable resources embedded in discarded materials are lost due to dumping. Organic refuse, which forms about 50% of all garbage, readily lends itself to the generation of compost or production of methane for household use or power generation. But it is a major opportunity lost. Organic waste that could help green cities and feed small and affordable household biogas plants is simply being thrown away. It is also ironic that while some countries such as Rwanda and Kenya have introduced stiff penalties for the use of flimsy plastic bags, India is doing little to prevent them from drifting into suburban garbage mountains, rivers, lakes and the sea, and being ingested by cattle feeding on dumped refuse. A new paradigm is needed, in which bulk waste generators take the lead and city managers show demonstrable change in the way it is processed. There has to be a shift away from large budgets for collection and transport by private contractors, to the processing of segregated garbage. As the nodal body for the implementation of the new rules, the Central Pollution Control Board should put out periodic assessments of the preparedness of urban local bodies in the run-up to the deadline. Without a rigorous approach, the national problem of merely shifting city trash to the suburbs, out of sight of those who generate it, will fester and choke the landscape. Considering that waste volumes are officially estimated to grow to 165 million tonnes a year by 2030, many more suburbs are bound to be threatened by collapsing or burning trash mountains.

Choose the word, which is MOST SIMILAR in meaning of the word printed in bold as used in the passage.

Sweeping

The collapse of a great wall of garbage in east Delhi’s Ghazipur area, sweeping people and vehicles into a nearby canal, is a stark reminder that India’s neglected waste management crisis can have deadly consequences. More than a year after the notification of the much-delayed Solid Waste Management Rules, cities and towns are in no position to comply with its stipulations, beginning with the segregation of different kinds of waste at source and their scientific processing. Neither are urban local governments treating the 62 million tonnes of waste generated annually in the country as a potential resource. They have left the task of value extraction mostly to the informal system of garbage collectors and recyclers. Improving on the national record of collecting only 80% of waste generated and being able to process just 28% of that quantum, requires behaviour modification among citizens and institutions. But what is more important is that the municipal bodies put in place an integrated system to transport and process what has been segregated at source. The Swachh Bharat programme of the Centre has focussed too narrowly on individual action to keep streets clean, without concurrent pressure on State and municipal authorities to move closer to scientific management by the deadline of April 2018 set for most places, and arrest the spread of pollution from trash.

In the absence of stakeholders at the local body level, recoverable resources embedded in discarded materials are lost due to dumping. Organic refuse, which forms about 50% of all garbage, readily lends itself to the generation of compost or production of methane for household use or power generation. But it is a major opportunity lost. Organic waste that could help green cities and feed small and affordable household biogas plants is simply being thrown away. It is also ironic that while some countries such as Rwanda and Kenya have introduced stiff penalties for the use of flimsy plastic bags, India is doing little to prevent them from drifting into suburban garbage mountains, rivers, lakes and the sea, and being ingested by cattle feeding on dumped refuse. A new paradigm is needed, in which bulk waste generators take the lead and city managers show demonstrable change in the way it is processed. There has to be a shift away from large budgets for collection and transport by private contractors, to the processing of segregated garbage. As the nodal body for the implementation of the new rules, the Central Pollution Control Board should put out periodic assessments of the preparedness of urban local bodies in the run-up to the deadline. Without a rigorous approach, the national problem of merely shifting city trash to the suburbs, out of sight of those who generate it, will fester and choke the landscape. Considering that waste volumes are officially estimated to grow to 165 million tonnes a year by 2030, many more suburbs are bound to be threatened by collapsing or burning trash mountains.

7.Choose the word, which is MOST OPPOSITE in meaning of the word printed in bold as used in the passage.

Segregation

The collapse of a great wall of garbage in east Delhi’s Ghazipur area, sweeping people and vehicles into a nearby canal, is a stark reminder that India’s neglected waste management crisis can have deadly consequences. More than a year after the notification of the much-delayed Solid Waste Management Rules, cities and towns are in no position to comply with its stipulations, beginning with the segregation of different kinds of waste at source and their scientific processing. Neither are urban local governments treating the 62 million tonnes of waste generated annually in the country as a potential resource. They have left the task of value extraction mostly to the informal system of garbage collectors and recyclers. Improving on the national record of collecting only 80% of waste generated and being able to process just 28% of that quantum, requires behaviour modification among citizens and institutions. But what is more important is that the municipal bodies put in place an integrated system to transport and process what has been segregated at source. The Swachh Bharat programme of the Centre has focussed too narrowly on individual action to keep streets clean, without concurrent pressure on State and municipal authorities to move closer to scientific management by the deadline of April 2018 set for most places, and arrest the spread of pollution from trash.

In the absence of stakeholders at the local body level, recoverable resources embedded in discarded materials are lost due to dumping. Organic refuse, which forms about 50% of all garbage, readily lends itself to the generation of compost or production of methane for household use or power generation. But it is a major opportunity lost. Organic waste that could help green cities and feed small and affordable household biogas plants is simply being thrown away. It is also ironic that while some countries such as Rwanda and Kenya have introduced stiff penalties for the use of flimsy plastic bags, India is doing little to prevent them from drifting into suburban garbage mountains, rivers, lakes and the sea, and being ingested by cattle feeding on dumped refuse. A new paradigm is needed, in which bulk waste generators take the lead and city managers show demonstrable change in the way it is processed. There has to be a shift away from large budgets for collection and transport by private contractors, to the processing of segregated garbage. As the nodal body for the implementation of the new rules, the Central Pollution Control Board should put out periodic assessments of the preparedness of urban local bodies in the run-up to the deadline. Without a rigorous approach, the national problem of merely shifting city trash to the suburbs, out of sight of those who generate it, will fester and choke the landscape. Considering that waste volumes are officially estimated to grow to 165 million tonnes a year by 2030, many more suburbs are bound to be threatened by collapsing or burning trash mountains.

Choose the word, which is MOST OPPOSITE in meaning of the word printed in bold as used in the passage.

Embedded

For all the killing and beheading they do on the LoC (Line of Control), we thrashed them so badly on the cricket field yesterday,” my Uber driver told me, with a palpable tinge of pride in his voice, the morning after the Indian cricket team won the ICC Champions Trophy match against Pakistan on June 4. “But Pakistan has beaten India several times in the past,” I reminded the young man who kept checking for WhatsApp messages on his smart phone at every traffic signal. “Yeah, sometimes they (the Indian team) let us down,” he complained, irritated. I imagine that would have been the response had I spoken to him now about India’s defeat by Pakistan in the Trophy final on Sunday.

Notice the subject of the two references to the Indian cricket team: victory is associated with ‘we’ and defeat is associated with ‘they’ or ‘our team’. The underlying point is simple: we would like to associate with feelings and messages of positivity, prosperity and good news. And by extension, just as we would prefer bearing good news rather than bad news, we instinctively like those who give us positive messages and promise acts of pride and achievement. Several psychologists have reached these conclusions using scientific studies.

It’s basic psychology that we like to hear good things — about our country, religion, cricket team, Olympic medals, etc. — as, they are, to some extent, an extension of our own selves. When our team wins a match, we are winning the match. But when they lose, we instinctively try to shift the burden of failure to the team. This desire and imagery of positivity is not limited to present achievements alone; rather, it extends to imaginary glories of the past, revenge on the enemy, sacrifices for collective good, among others. Politicians and political parties habitually use symbols and images associated with positivity to gather domestic political support. “Make America great again” and “Bharat Mata ki jai” are two of the best examples of positive messaging in our times.

Having been in power for over three years now, the BharatiyaJanata Party (BJP) government has little to show for itself in terms of economic growth, employment generation or national security. And yet, Prime Minister NarendraModi’s popularity has only spiked. What explains this? Part of the answer lies in their ability to master the fine art of positive messaging by effectively fusing national pride with our ordinary selves and daily lives. Mr. Modi’s well-televised visits to great power capitals, accompanied by an abundance of glamour and grandeur, are choreographed to look like our own teleported visits there, and we feel that the ‘land of snake charmers’ has finally arrived on the world stage. From invoking ‘Gujarati asmita’ when he was the Gujarat Chief Minister to invoking national pride today, Mr. Modi’s ability to give a positive twist to just about any situation is unparalleled. Consider, for instance, how Mr. Modi reframed the curse of poverty with clever word play: “I find great potential among the poor. The poor are the strength of this country.”

There are three core styles of positive messaging that the BJP typically engages in, and thereby successfully connecting with the masses on the ground, who could do with some positive news amidst all the anxieties of their daily lives. The language of greatness and growth are the most prominent in the BJP’s tool kit of political messaging. The promise of “ achhe din (good days)” galvanised the national imagination and brought Mr. Modi to power in 2014. From A.B. Vajpayee’s “India Shining” to “ MeraDeshBadalRahaHai, AageBadhRahaHai(my country is changing, its’ moving ahead)” to calming, without any basis of course, that plastic surgery has ancient Indian roots, BJP leaders consistently emphasis India’s lost glory, and the need to restore that. It strikes a chord with the average Indian voter.

The BJP also uses the language of revenge for positive messaging. What makes the post-Uri ‘surgical strikes’, giving an occasional ‘ muhtodjawab (solid response)’ to Pakistan, or engaging in a war of nerves with China attractive to the public is not any novelty about them, given that previous governments have also done similar things, but the way these developments are packaged to project a strong India and a stronger Prime Minister.

Third, the BJP and Mr. Modi have managed to give a positive twist to even painful, and proving to be counter-productive, decisions by the government by using the language of sacrifice. For a country that was distressed by scams after scams during the second United Progressive Alliance government, Mr. Modi’s assertive and impassioned calls for making personal sacrifices to curb corruption and terror financing came across as being driven by a national sense of purpose and invoked our deep sense of patriotic duty.

1 The subject of the two references to the Indian cricket team is:

For all the killing and beheading they do on the LoC (Line of Control), we thrashed them so badly on the cricket field yesterday,” my Uber driver told me, with a palpable tinge of pride in his voice, the morning after the Indian cricket team won the ICC Champions Trophy match against Pakistan on June 4. “But Pakistan has beaten India several times in the past,” I reminded the young man who kept checking for WhatsApp messages on his smart phone at every traffic signal. “Yeah, sometimes they (the Indian team) let us down,” he complained, irritated. I imagine that would have been the response had I spoken to him now about India’s defeat by Pakistan in the Trophy final on Sunday.

Notice the subject of the two references to the Indian cricket team: victory is associated with ‘we’ and defeat is associated with ‘they’ or ‘our team’. The underlying point is simple: we would like to associate with feelings and messages of positivity, prosperity and good news. And by extension, just as we would prefer bearing good news rather than bad news, we instinctively like those who give us positive messages and promise acts of pride and achievement. Several psychologists have reached these conclusions using scientific studies.

It’s basic psychology that we like to hear good things — about our country, religion, cricket team, Olympic medals, etc. — as, they are, to some extent, an extension of our own selves. When our team wins a match, we are winning the match. But when they lose, we instinctively try to shift the burden of failure to the team. This desire and imagery of positivity is not limited to present achievements alone; rather, it extends to imaginary glories of the past, revenge on the enemy, sacrifices for collective good, among others. Politicians and political parties habitually use symbols and images associated with positivity to gather domestic political support. “Make America great again” and “Bharat Mata ki jai” are two of the best examples of positive messaging in our times.

Having been in power for over three years now, the BharatiyaJanata Party (BJP) government has little to show for itself in terms of economic growth, employment generation or national security. And yet, Prime Minister NarendraModi’s popularity has only spiked. What explains this? Part of the answer lies in their ability to master the fine art of positive messaging by effectively fusing national pride with our ordinary selves and daily lives. Mr. Modi’s well-televised visits to great power capitals, accompanied by an abundance of glamour and grandeur, are choreographed to look like our own teleported visits there, and we feel that the ‘land of snake charmers’ has finally arrived on the world stage. From invoking ‘Gujarati asmita’ when he was the Gujarat Chief Minister to invoking national pride today, Mr. Modi’s ability to give a positive twist to just about any situation is unparalleled. Consider, for instance, how Mr. Modi reframed the curse of poverty with clever word play: “I find great potential among the poor. The poor are the strength of this country.”

There are three core styles of positive messaging that the BJP typically engages in, and thereby successfully connecting with the masses on the ground, who could do with some positive news amidst all the anxieties of their daily lives. The language of greatness and growth are the most prominent in the BJP’s tool kit of political messaging. The promise of “ achhe din (good days)” galvanised the national imagination and brought Mr. Modi to power in 2014. From A.B. Vajpayee’s “India Shining” to “ MeraDeshBadalRahaHai, AageBadhRahaHai(my country is changing, its’ moving ahead)” to calming, without any basis of course, that plastic surgery has ancient Indian roots, BJP leaders consistently emphasis India’s lost glory, and the need to restore that. It strikes a chord with the average Indian voter.

The BJP also uses the language of revenge for positive messaging. What makes the post-Uri ‘surgical strikes’, giving an occasional ‘ muhtodjawab (solid response)’ to Pakistan, or engaging in a war of nerves with China attractive to the public is not any novelty about them, given that previous governments have also done similar things, but the way these developments are packaged to project a strong India and a stronger Prime Minister.

Third, the BJP and Mr. Modi have managed to give a positive twist to even painful, and proving to be counter-productive, decisions by the government by using the language of sacrifice. For a country that was distressed by scams after scams during the second United Progressive Alliance government, Mr. Modi’s assertive and impassioned calls for making personal sacrifices to curb corruption and terror financing came across as being driven by a national sense of purpose and invoked our deep sense of patriotic duty.

2 Which of the following statement is true?

For all the killing and beheading they do on the LoC (Line of Control), we thrashed them so badly on the cricket field yesterday,” my Uber driver told me, with a palpable tinge of pride in his voice, the morning after the Indian cricket team won the ICC Champions Trophy match against Pakistan on June 4. “But Pakistan has beaten India several times in the past,” I reminded the young man who kept checking for WhatsApp messages on his smart phone at every traffic signal. “Yeah, sometimes they (the Indian team) let us down,” he complained, irritated. I imagine that would have been the response had I spoken to him now about India’s defeat by Pakistan in the Trophy final on Sunday.

Notice the subject of the two references to the Indian cricket team: victory is associated with ‘we’ and defeat is associated with ‘they’ or ‘our team’. The underlying point is simple: we would like to associate with feelings and messages of positivity, prosperity and good news. And by extension, just as we would prefer bearing good news rather than bad news, we instinctively like those who give us positive messages and promise acts of pride and achievement. Several psychologists have reached these conclusions using scientific studies.

It’s basic psychology that we like to hear good things — about our country, religion, cricket team, Olympic medals, etc. — as, they are, to some extent, an extension of our own selves. When our team wins a match, we are winning the match. But when they lose, we instinctively try to shift the burden of failure to the team. This desire and imagery of positivity is not limited to present achievements alone; rather, it extends to imaginary glories of the past, revenge on the enemy, sacrifices for collective good, among others. Politicians and political parties habitually use symbols and images associated with positivity to gather domestic political support. “Make America great again” and “Bharat Mata ki jai” are two of the best examples of positive messaging in our times.

Having been in power for over three years now, the BharatiyaJanata Party (BJP) government has little to show for itself in terms of economic growth, employment generation or national security. And yet, Prime Minister NarendraModi’s popularity has only spiked. What explains this? Part of the answer lies in their ability to master the fine art of positive messaging by effectively fusing national pride with our ordinary selves and daily lives. Mr. Modi’s well-televised visits to great power capitals, accompanied by an abundance of glamour and grandeur, are choreographed to look like our own teleported visits there, and we feel that the ‘land of snake charmers’ has finally arrived on the world stage. From invoking ‘Gujarati asmita’ when he was the Gujarat Chief Minister to invoking national pride today, Mr. Modi’s ability to give a positive twist to just about any situation is unparalleled. Consider, for instance, how Mr. Modi reframed the curse of poverty with clever word play: “I find great potential among the poor. The poor are the strength of this country.”

There are three core styles of positive messaging that the BJP typically engages in, and thereby successfully connecting with the masses on the ground, who could do with some positive news amidst all the anxieties of their daily lives. The language of greatness and growth are the most prominent in the BJP’s tool kit of political messaging. The promise of “ achhe din (good days)” galvanised the national imagination and brought Mr. Modi to power in 2014. From A.B. Vajpayee’s “India Shining” to “ MeraDeshBadalRahaHai, AageBadhRahaHai(my country is changing, its’ moving ahead)” to calming, without any basis of course, that plastic surgery has ancient Indian roots, BJP leaders consistently emphasis India’s lost glory, and the need to restore that. It strikes a chord with the average Indian voter.

The BJP also uses the language of revenge for positive messaging. What makes the post-Uri ‘surgical strikes’, giving an occasional ‘ muhtodjawab (solid response)’ to Pakistan, or engaging in a war of nerves with China attractive to the public is not any novelty about them, given that previous governments have also done similar things, but the way these developments are packaged to project a strong India and a stronger Prime Minister.

Third, the BJP and Mr. Modi have managed to give a positive twist to even painful, and proving to be counter-productive, decisions by the government by using the language of sacrifice. For a country that was distressed by scams after scams during the second United Progressive Alliance government, Mr. Modi’s assertive and impassioned calls for making personal sacrifices to curb corruption and terror financing came across as being driven by a national sense of purpose and invoked our deep sense of patriotic duty.

3 Arrange the following statements according to the passage.

(i) and images associated with positivity to gather domestic political support.

(ii) rather, it extends to imaginary glories of the past, revenge on the enemy,

(iii) This desire and imagery of positivity is not limited to present achievements alone;

(iv) sacrifices for collective good, among others. Politicians and political parties habitually use symbols

For all the killing and beheading they do on the LoC (Line of Control), we thrashed them so badly on the cricket field yesterday,” my Uber driver told me, with a palpable tinge of pride in his voice, the morning after the Indian cricket team won the ICC Champions Trophy match against Pakistan on June 4. “But Pakistan has beaten India several times in the past,” I reminded the young man who kept checking for WhatsApp messages on his smart phone at every traffic signal. “Yeah, sometimes they (the Indian team) let us down,” he complained, irritated. I imagine that would have been the response had I spoken to him now about India’s defeat by Pakistan in the Trophy final on Sunday.

Notice the subject of the two references to the Indian cricket team: victory is associated with ‘we’ and defeat is associated with ‘they’ or ‘our team’. The underlying point is simple: we would like to associate with feelings and messages of positivity, prosperity and good news. And by extension, just as we would prefer bearing good news rather than bad news, we instinctively like those who give us positive messages and promise acts of pride and achievement. Several psychologists have reached these conclusions using scientific studies.

It’s basic psychology that we like to hear good things — about our country, religion, cricket team, Olympic medals, etc. — as, they are, to some extent, an extension of our own selves. When our team wins a match, we are winning the match. But when they lose, we instinctively try to shift the burden of failure to the team. This desire and imagery of positivity is not limited to present achievements alone; rather, it extends to imaginary glories of the past, revenge on the enemy, sacrifices for collective good, among others. Politicians and political parties habitually use symbols and images associated with positivity to gather domestic political support. “Make America great again” and “Bharat Mata ki jai” are two of the best examples of positive messaging in our times.

Having been in power for over three years now, the BharatiyaJanata Party (BJP) government has little to show for itself in terms of economic growth, employment generation or national security. And yet, Prime Minister NarendraModi’s popularity has only spiked. What explains this? Part of the answer lies in their ability to master the fine art of positive messaging by effectively fusing national pride with our ordinary selves and daily lives. Mr. Modi’s well-televised visits to great power capitals, accompanied by an abundance of glamour and grandeur, are choreographed to look like our own teleported visits there, and we feel that the ‘land of snake charmers’ has finally arrived on the world stage. From invoking ‘Gujarati asmita’ when he was the Gujarat Chief Minister to invoking national pride today, Mr. Modi’s ability to give a positive twist to just about any situation is unparalleled. Consider, for instance, how Mr. Modi reframed the curse of poverty with clever word play: “I find great potential among the poor. The poor are the strength of this country.”

There are three core styles of positive messaging that the BJP typically engages in, and thereby successfully connecting with the masses on the ground, who could do with some positive news amidst all the anxieties of their daily lives. The language of greatness and growth are the most prominent in the BJP’s tool kit of political messaging. The promise of “ achhe din (good days)” galvanised the national imagination and brought Mr. Modi to power in 2014. From A.B. Vajpayee’s “India Shining” to “ MeraDeshBadalRahaHai, AageBadhRahaHai(my country is changing, its’ moving ahead)” to calming, without any basis of course, that plastic surgery has ancient Indian roots, BJP leaders consistently emphasis India’s lost glory, and the need to restore that. It strikes a chord with the average Indian voter.

The BJP also uses the language of revenge for positive messaging. What makes the post-Uri ‘surgical strikes’, giving an occasional ‘ muhtodjawab (solid response)’ to Pakistan, or engaging in a war of nerves with China attractive to the public is not any novelty about them, given that previous governments have also done similar things, but the way these developments are packaged to project a strong India and a stronger Prime Minister.

Third, the BJP and Mr. Modi have managed to give a positive twist to even painful, and proving to be counter-productive, decisions by the government by using the language of sacrifice. For a country that was distressed by scams after scams during the second United Progressive Alliance government, Mr. Modi’s assertive and impassioned calls for making personal sacrifices to curb corruption and terror financing came across as being driven by a national sense of purpose and invoked our deep sense of patriotic duty.

4 How Mr. Modi reframed the curse of poverty with clever word play:

(i) I find great potential among the poor.

(ii) Poverty should be removed from india.

(iii) The poor are the strength of this country.”

For all the killing and beheading they do on the LoC (Line of Control), we thrashed them so badly on the cricket field yesterday,” my Uber driver told me, with a palpable tinge of pride in his voice, the morning after the Indian cricket team won the ICC Champions Trophy match against Pakistan on June 4. “But Pakistan has beaten India several times in the past,” I reminded the young man who kept checking for WhatsApp messages on his smart phone at every traffic signal. “Yeah, sometimes they (the Indian team) let us down,” he complained, irritated. I imagine that would have been the response had I spoken to him now about India’s defeat by Pakistan in the Trophy final on Sunday.

Notice the subject of the two references to the Indian cricket team: victory is associated with ‘we’ and defeat is associated with ‘they’ or ‘our team’. The underlying point is simple: we would like to associate with feelings and messages of positivity, prosperity and good news. And by extension, just as we would prefer bearing good news rather than bad news, we instinctively like those who give us positive messages and promise acts of pride and achievement. Several psychologists have reached these conclusions using scientific studies.

It’s basic psychology that we like to hear good things — about our country, religion, cricket team, Olympic medals, etc. — as, they are, to some extent, an extension of our own selves. When our team wins a match, we are winning the match. But when they lose, we instinctively try to shift the burden of failure to the team. This desire and imagery of positivity is not limited to present achievements alone; rather, it extends to imaginary glories of the past, revenge on the enemy, sacrifices for collective good, among others. Politicians and political parties habitually use symbols and images associated with positivity to gather domestic political support. “Make America great again” and “Bharat Mata ki jai” are two of the best examples of positive messaging in our times.

Having been in power for over three years now, the BharatiyaJanata Party (BJP) government has little to show for itself in terms of economic growth, employment generation or national security. And yet, Prime Minister NarendraModi’s popularity has only spiked. What explains this? Part of the answer lies in their ability to master the fine art of positive messaging by effectively fusing national pride with our ordinary selves and daily lives. Mr. Modi’s well-televised visits to great power capitals, accompanied by an abundance of glamour and grandeur, are choreographed to look like our own teleported visits there, and we feel that the ‘land of snake charmers’ has finally arrived on the world stage. From invoking ‘Gujarati asmita’ when he was the Gujarat Chief Minister to invoking national pride today, Mr. Modi’s ability to give a positive twist to just about any situation is unparalleled. Consider, for instance, how Mr. Modi reframed the curse of poverty with clever word play: “I find great potential among the poor. The poor are the strength of this country.”

There are three core styles of positive messaging that the BJP typically engages in, and thereby successfully connecting with the masses on the ground, who could do with some positive news amidst all the anxieties of their daily lives. The language of greatness and growth are the most prominent in the BJP’s tool kit of political messaging. The promise of “ achhe din (good days)” galvanised the national imagination and brought Mr. Modi to power in 2014. From A.B. Vajpayee’s “India Shining” to “ MeraDeshBadalRahaHai, AageBadhRahaHai(my country is changing, its’ moving ahead)” to calming, without any basis of course, that plastic surgery has ancient Indian roots, BJP leaders consistently emphasis India’s lost glory, and the need to restore that. It strikes a chord with the average Indian voter.

The BJP also uses the language of revenge for positive messaging. What makes the post-Uri ‘surgical strikes’, giving an occasional ‘ muhtodjawab (solid response)’ to Pakistan, or engaging in a war of nerves with China attractive to the public is not any novelty about them, given that previous governments have also done similar things, but the way these developments are packaged to project a strong India and a stronger Prime Minister.

Third, the BJP and Mr. Modi have managed to give a positive twist to even painful, and proving to be counter-productive, decisions by the government by using the language of sacrifice. For a country that was distressed by scams after scams during the second United Progressive Alliance government, Mr. Modi’s assertive and impassioned calls for making personal sacrifices to curb corruption and terror financing came across as being driven by a national sense of purpose and invoked our deep sense of patriotic duty.

5 Which of the following statement is not true according to the passage?

(i) The BJP also uses the language of revenge for positive messaging.

(ii) The promise of “ achhe din (good days)” galvanised the national imagination and brought Mr. Modi to power in 2014.

(iii) The language of greatness and growth are the most prominent in the BJP’s tool kit of political messaging.

For all the killing and beheading they do on the LoC (Line of Control), we thrashed them so badly on the cricket field yesterday,” my Uber driver told me, with a palpable tinge of pride in his voice, the morning after the Indian cricket team won the ICC Champions Trophy match against Pakistan on June 4. “But Pakistan has beaten India several times in the past,” I reminded the young man who kept checking for WhatsApp messages on his smart phone at every traffic signal. “Yeah, sometimes they (the Indian team) let us down,” he complained, irritated. I imagine that would have been the response had I spoken to him now about India’s defeat by Pakistan in the Trophy final on Sunday.

Notice the subject of the two references to the Indian cricket team: victory is associated with ‘we’ and defeat is associated with ‘they’ or ‘our team’. The underlying point is simple: we would like to associate with feelings and messages of positivity, prosperity and good news. And by extension, just as we would prefer bearing good news rather than bad news, we instinctively like those who give us positive messages and promise acts of pride and achievement. Several psychologists have reached these conclusions using scientific studies.

It’s basic psychology that we like to hear good things — about our country, religion, cricket team, Olympic medals, etc. — as, they are, to some extent, an extension of our own selves. When our team wins a match, we are winning the match. But when they lose, we instinctively try to shift the burden of failure to the team. This desire and imagery of positivity is not limited to present achievements alone; rather, it extends to imaginary glories of the past, revenge on the enemy, sacrifices for collective good, among others. Politicians and political parties habitually use symbols and images associated with positivity to gather domestic political support. “Make America great again” and “Bharat Mata ki jai” are two of the best examples of positive messaging in our times.

Having been in power for over three years now, the BharatiyaJanata Party (BJP) government has little to show for itself in terms of economic growth, employment generation or national security. And yet, Prime Minister NarendraModi’s popularity has only spiked. What explains this? Part of the answer lies in their ability to master the fine art of positive messaging by effectively fusing national pride with our ordinary selves and daily lives. Mr. Modi’s well-televised visits to great power capitals, accompanied by an abundance of glamour and grandeur, are choreographed to look like our own teleported visits there, and we feel that the ‘land of snake charmers’ has finally arrived on the world stage. From invoking ‘Gujarati asmita’ when he was the Gujarat Chief Minister to invoking national pride today, Mr. Modi’s ability to give a positive twist to just about any situation is unparalleled. Consider, for instance, how Mr. Modi reframed the curse of poverty with clever word play: “I find great potential among the poor. The poor are the strength of this country.”

There are three core styles of positive messaging that the BJP typically engages in, and thereby successfully connecting with the masses on the ground, who could do with some positive news amidst all the anxieties of their daily lives. The language of greatness and growth are the most prominent in the BJP’s tool kit of political messaging. The promise of “ achhe din (good days)” galvanised the national imagination and brought Mr. Modi to power in 2014. From A.B. Vajpayee’s “India Shining” to “ MeraDeshBadalRahaHai, AageBadhRahaHai(my country is changing, its’ moving ahead)” to calming, without any basis of course, that plastic surgery has ancient Indian roots, BJP leaders consistently emphasis India’s lost glory, and the need to restore that. It strikes a chord with the average Indian voter.

The BJP also uses the language of revenge for positive messaging. What makes the post-Uri ‘surgical strikes’, giving an occasional ‘ muhtodjawab (solid response)’ to Pakistan, or engaging in a war of nerves with China attractive to the public is not any novelty about them, given that previous governments have also done similar things, but the way these developments are packaged to project a strong India and a stronger Prime Minister.

Third, the BJP and Mr. Modi have managed to give a positive twist to even painful, and proving to be counter-productive, decisions by the government by using the language of sacrifice. For a country that was distressed by scams after scams during the second United Progressive Alliance government, Mr. Modi’s assertive and impassioned calls for making personal sacrifices to curb corruption and terror financing came across as being driven by a national sense of purpose and invoked our deep sense of patriotic duty.

For all the killing and beheading they do on the LoC (Line of Control), we thrashed them so badly on the cricket field yesterday,” my Uber driver told me, with a palpable tinge of pride in his voice, the morning after the Indian cricket team won the ICC Champions Trophy match against Pakistan on June 4. “But Pakistan has beaten India several times in the past,” I reminded the young man who kept checking for WhatsApp messages on his smart phone at every traffic signal. “Yeah, sometimes they (the Indian team) let us down,” he complained, irritated. I imagine that would have been the response had I spoken to him now about India’s defeat by Pakistan in the Trophy final on Sunday.

Notice the subject of the two references to the Indian cricket team: victory is associated with ‘we’ and defeat is associated with ‘they’ or ‘our team’. The underlying point is simple: we would like to associate with feelings and messages of positivity, prosperity and good news. And by extension, just as we would prefer bearing good news rather than bad news, we instinctively like those who give us positive messages and promise acts of pride and achievement. Several psychologists have reached these conclusions using scientific studies.

It’s basic psychology that we like to hear good things — about our country, religion, cricket team, Olympic medals, etc. — as, they are, to some extent, an extension of our own selves. When our team wins a match, we are winning the match. But when they lose, we instinctively try to shift the burden of failure to the team. This desire and imagery of positivity is not limited to present achievements alone; rather, it extends to imaginary glories of the past, revenge on the enemy, sacrifices for collective good, among others. Politicians and political parties habitually use symbols and images associated with positivity to gather domestic political support. “Make America great again” and “Bharat Mata ki jai” are two of the best examples of positive messaging in our times.

Having been in power for over three years now, the BharatiyaJanata Party (BJP) government has little to show for itself in terms of economic growth, employment generation or national security. And yet, Prime Minister NarendraModi’s popularity has only spiked. What explains this? Part of the answer lies in their ability to master the fine art of positive messaging by effectively fusing national pride with our ordinary selves and daily lives. Mr. Modi’s well-televised visits to great power capitals, accompanied by an abundance of glamour and grandeur, are choreographed to look like our own teleported visits there, and we feel that the ‘land of snake charmers’ has finally arrived on the world stage. From invoking ‘Gujarati asmita’ when he was the Gujarat Chief Minister to invoking national pride today, Mr. Modi’s ability to give a positive twist to just about any situation is unparalleled. Consider, for instance, how Mr. Modi reframed the curse of poverty with clever word play: “I find great potential among the poor. The poor are the strength of this country.”

There are three core styles of positive messaging that the BJP typically engages in, and thereby successfully connecting with the masses on the ground, who could do with some positive news amidst all the anxieties of their daily lives. The language of greatness and growth are the most prominent in the BJP’s tool kit of political messaging. The promise of “ achhe din (good days)” galvanised the national imagination and brought Mr. Modi to power in 2014. From A.B. Vajpayee’s “India Shining” to “ MeraDeshBadalRahaHai, AageBadhRahaHai(my country is changing, its’ moving ahead)” to calming, without any basis of course, that plastic surgery has ancient Indian roots, BJP leaders consistently emphasis India’s lost glory, and the need to restore that. It strikes a chord with the average Indian voter.

The BJP also uses the language of revenge for positive messaging. What makes the post-Uri ‘surgical strikes’, giving an occasional ‘ muhtodjawab (solid response)’ to Pakistan, or engaging in a war of nerves with China attractive to the public is not any novelty about them, given that previous governments have also done similar things, but the way these developments are packaged to project a strong India and a stronger Prime Minister.

Third, the BJP and Mr. Modi have managed to give a positive twist to even painful, and proving to be counter-productive, decisions by the government by using the language of sacrifice. For a country that was distressed by scams after scams during the second United Progressive Alliance government, Mr. Modi’s assertive and impassioned calls for making personal sacrifices to curb corruption and terror financing came across as being driven by a national sense of purpose and invoked our deep sense of patriotic duty.

6 Choose the word which is MOST SIMILAR in meaning of the word printed in bold as used in the passazge.

Prominent

For all the killing and beheading they do on the LoC (Line of Control), we thrashed them so badly on the cricket field yesterday,” my Uber driver told me, with a palpable tinge of pride in his voice, the morning after the Indian cricket team won the ICC Champions Trophy match against Pakistan on June 4. “But Pakistan has beaten India several times in the past,” I reminded the young man who kept checking for WhatsApp messages on his smart phone at every traffic signal. “Yeah, sometimes they (the Indian team) let us down,” he complained, irritated. I imagine that would have been the response had I spoken to him now about India’s defeat by Pakistan in the Trophy final on Sunday.

Notice the subject of the two references to the Indian cricket team: victory is associated with ‘we’ and defeat is associated with ‘they’ or ‘our team’. The underlying point is simple: we would like to associate with feelings and messages of positivity, prosperity and good news. And by extension, just as we would prefer bearing good news rather than bad news, we instinctively like those who give us positive messages and promise acts of pride and achievement. Several psychologists have reached these conclusions using scientific studies.

It’s basic psychology that we like to hear good things — about our country, religion, cricket team, Olympic medals, etc. — as, they are, to some extent, an extension of our own selves. When our team wins a match, we are winning the match. But when they lose, we instinctively try to shift the burden of failure to the team. This desire and imagery of positivity is not limited to present achievements alone; rather, it extends to imaginary glories of the past, revenge on the enemy, sacrifices for collective good, among others. Politicians and political parties habitually use symbols and images associated with positivity to gather domestic political support. “Make America great again” and “Bharat Mata ki jai” are two of the best examples of positive messaging in our times.

Having been in power for over three years now, the BharatiyaJanata Party (BJP) government has little to show for itself in terms of economic growth, employment generation or national security. And yet, Prime Minister NarendraModi’s popularity has only spiked. What explains this? Part of the answer lies in their ability to master the fine art of positive messaging by effectively fusing national pride with our ordinary selves and daily lives. Mr. Modi’s well-televised visits to great power capitals, accompanied by an abundance of glamour and grandeur, are choreographed to look like our own teleported visits there, and we feel that the ‘land of snake charmers’ has finally arrived on the world stage. From invoking ‘Gujarati asmita’ when he was the Gujarat Chief Minister to invoking national pride today, Mr. Modi’s ability to give a positive twist to just about any situation is unparalleled. Consider, for instance, how Mr. Modi reframed the curse of poverty with clever word play: “I find great potential among the poor. The poor are the strength of this country.”

There are three core styles of positive messaging that the BJP typically engages in, and thereby successfully connecting with the masses on the ground, who could do with some positive news amidst all the anxieties of their daily lives. The language of greatness and growth are the most prominent in the BJP’s tool kit of political messaging. The promise of “ achhe din (good days)” galvanised the national imagination and brought Mr. Modi to power in 2014. From A.B. Vajpayee’s “India Shining” to “ MeraDeshBadalRahaHai, AageBadhRahaHai(my country is changing, its’ moving ahead)” to calming, without any basis of course, that plastic surgery has ancient Indian roots, BJP leaders consistently emphasis India’s lost glory, and the need to restore that. It strikes a chord with the average Indian voter.

The BJP also uses the language of revenge for positive messaging. What makes the post-Uri ‘surgical strikes’, giving an occasional ‘ muhtodjawab (solid response)’ to Pakistan, or engaging in a war of nerves with China attractive to the public is not any novelty about them, given that previous governments have also done similar things, but the way these developments are packaged to project a strong India and a stronger Prime Minister.

Third, the BJP and Mr. Modi have managed to give a positive twist to even painful, and proving to be counter-productive, decisions by the government by using the language of sacrifice. For a country that was distressed by scams after scams during the second United Progressive Alliance government, Mr. Modi’s assertive and impassioned calls for making personal sacrifices to curb corruption and terror financing came across as being driven by a national sense of purpose and invoked our deep sense of patriotic duty.

7 Choose the word which is MOST SIMILAR in meaning of the word printed in bold as used in the passage.

Instinctively

(i). Generally

(ii) Naturally

(iii) Earned

For all the killing and beheading they do on the LoC (Line of Control), we thrashed them so badly on the cricket field yesterday,” my Uber driver told me, with a palpable tinge of pride in his voice, the morning after the Indian cricket team won the ICC Champions Trophy match against Pakistan on June 4. “But Pakistan has beaten India several times in the past,” I reminded the young man who kept checking for WhatsApp messages on his smart phone at every traffic signal. “Yeah, sometimes they (the Indian team) let us down,” he complained, irritated. I imagine that would have been the response had I spoken to him now about India’s defeat by Pakistan in the Trophy final on Sunday.

Notice the subject of the two references to the Indian cricket team: victory is associated with ‘we’ and defeat is associated with ‘they’ or ‘our team’. The underlying point is simple: we would like to associate with feelings and messages of positivity, prosperity and good news. And by extension, just as we would prefer bearing good news rather than bad news, we instinctively like those who give us positive messages and promise acts of pride and achievement. Several psychologists have reached these conclusions using scientific studies.

It’s basic psychology that we like to hear good things — about our country, religion, cricket team, Olympic medals, etc. — as, they are, to some extent, an extension of our own selves. When our team wins a match, we are winning the match. But when they lose, we instinctively try to shift the burden of failure to the team. This desire and imagery of positivity is not limited to present achievements alone; rather, it extends to imaginary glories of the past, revenge on the enemy, sacrifices for collective good, among others. Politicians and political parties habitually use symbols and images associated with positivity to gather domestic political support. “Make America great again” and “Bharat Mata ki jai” are two of the best examples of positive messaging in our times.

Having been in power for over three years now, the BharatiyaJanata Party (BJP) government has little to show for itself in terms of economic growth, employment generation or national security. And yet, Prime Minister NarendraModi’s popularity has only spiked. What explains this? Part of the answer lies in their ability to master the fine art of positive messaging by effectively fusing national pride with our ordinary selves and daily lives. Mr. Modi’s well-televised visits to great power capitals, accompanied by an abundance of glamour and grandeur, are choreographed to look like our own teleported visits there, and we feel that the ‘land of snake charmers’ has finally arrived on the world stage. From invoking ‘Gujarati asmita’ when he was the Gujarat Chief Minister to invoking national pride today, Mr. Modi’s ability to give a positive twist to just about any situation is unparalleled. Consider, for instance, how Mr. Modi reframed the curse of poverty with clever word play: “I find great potential among the poor. The poor are the strength of this country.”

There are three core styles of positive messaging that the BJP typically engages in, and thereby successfully connecting with the masses on the ground, who could do with some positive news amidst all the anxieties of their daily lives. The language of greatness and growth are the most prominent in the BJP’s tool kit of political messaging. The promise of “ achhe din (good days)” galvanised the national imagination and brought Mr. Modi to power in 2014. From A.B. Vajpayee’s “India Shining” to “ MeraDeshBadalRahaHai, AageBadhRahaHai(my country is changing, its’ moving ahead)” to calming, without any basis of course, that plastic surgery has ancient Indian roots, BJP leaders consistently emphasis India’s lost glory, and the need to restore that. It strikes a chord with the average Indian voter.

The BJP also uses the language of revenge for positive messaging. What makes the post-Uri ‘surgical strikes’, giving an occasional ‘ muhtodjawab (solid response)’ to Pakistan, or engaging in a war of nerves with China attractive to the public is not any novelty about them, given that previous governments have also done similar things, but the way these developments are packaged to project a strong India and a stronger Prime Minister.

Third, the BJP and Mr. Modi have managed to give a positive twist to even painful, and proving to be counter-productive, decisions by the government by using the language of sacrifice. For a country that was distressed by scams after scams during the second United Progressive Alliance government, Mr. Modi’s assertive and impassioned calls for making personal sacrifices to curb corruption and terror financing came across as being driven by a national sense of purpose and invoked our deep sense of patriotic duty.

8 Choose the word which is MOST OPPOSITE in meaning of the word printed in bold as used in the passage.

Thrash

But I did not want to shoot the elephant. I watched him beating his bunch of grass against his knees, with the preoccupied grandmotherly air that elephants have. It seemed to me that it would be murder to shoot him. I had never shot an elephant and never wanted to. (Somehow it always seems worse to kill large animal.) Besides, there was the beast's owner to be considered. But I had got to act quickly. I turned to some experienced-looking Burmans who had been there when we arrived, and asked them how the elephants had been behaving. They all said the same thing; he took no notice of you if you left him alone, but he might charge if you went too close to him.

The phrase 'Preoccupied

grandmotherly air' signifies

But I did not want to shoot the elephant. I watched him beating his bunch of grass against his knees, with the preoccupied grandmotherly air that elephants have. It seemed to me that it would be murder to shoot him. I had never shot an elephant and never wanted to. (Somehow it always seems worse to kill large animal.) Besides, there was the beast's owner to be considered. But I had got to act quickly. I turned to some experienced-looking Burmans who had been there when we arrived, and asked them how the elephants had been behaving. They all said the same thing; he took no notice of you if you left him alone, but he might charge if you went too close to him.

From the passage it appears that

the author was

But I did not want to shoot the elephant. I watched him beating his bunch of grass against his knees, with the preoccupied grandmotherly air that elephants have. It seemed to me that it would be murder to shoot him. I had never shot an elephant and never wanted to. (Somehow it always seems worse to kill large animal.) Besides, there was the beast's owner to be considered. But I had got to act quickly. I turned to some experienced-looking Burmans who had been there when we arrived, and asked them how the elephants had been behaving. They all said the same thing; he took no notice of you if you left him alone, but he might charge if you went too close to him

The author did not want to shoot

the elephant because he

I felt the wall of the tunnel shiver. The master alarm squealed through my earphones. Almost simultaneously, Jack yelled down to me that there was a warning light on. Fleeting but spectacular sights snapped into ans out of view, the snow, the shower of debris, the moon, looming close and big, the dazzling sunshine for once unfiltered by layers of air. The last twelve hours before re-entry were particular bone-chilling. During this period, I had to go up in to command module. Even after the fiery re-entry splashing down in 81^o water in south pacific, we could still see our frosty breath inside the command module.

1.

The word 'Command Module' used

twice in the given passage indicates perhaps that it deals with

Answer: Option C

I felt the wall of the tunnel shiver. The master alarm squealed through my earphones. Almost simultaneously, Jack yelled down to me that there was a warning light on. Fleeting but spectacular sights snapped into ans out of view, the snow, the shower of debris, the moon, looming close and big, the dazzling sunshine for once unfiltered by layers of air. The last twelve hours before re-entry were particular bone-chilling. During this period, I had to go up in to command module. Even after the fiery re-entry splashing down in 81^o water in south pacific, we could still see our frosty breath inside the command module

2.

Which one of the following reasons

would one consider as more as possible for the warning lights to be on?

I felt the wall of the tunnel shiver. The master alarm squealed through my earphones. Almost simultaneously, Jack yelled down to me that there was a warning light on. Fleeting but spectacular sights snapped into ans out of view, the snow, the shower of debris, the moon, looming close and big, the dazzling sunshine for once unfiltered by layers of air. The last twelve hours before re-entry were particular bone-chilling. During this period, I had to go up in to command module. Even after the fiery re-entry splashing down in 81^o water in south pacific, we could still see our frosty breath inside the command module

The statement that the dazzling

sunshine was "for once unfiltered by layers of air" means

B.

C.

D.

Answer: Option D