IBPS Bank PO Prelims Mock Test - 7 - Bank Exams MCQ

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below. Certain words/phrases have been printed in bold to help you locate them.

Television is a noisy medium but it can convey silence with great power and effectiveness, when it chooses to. In the past week, Indian television journalists covering the earthquake in Nepal have generated a great deal of sound and fury. Apart from the insensitivity and the boisterousness, it was the combination of jingoism and the relentless advertising of India’s aid efforts by television reporters embedded with the Indian forces that led to the intensely hostile reactions from Nepalese citizens on Twitter, the creation of the hash tag of protest: #IndianMediaGoHome. It is undeniably an age of advertised charity but the gloating does hurt the recipients of your generosity. Unlike the televised hysterics, the broken villages of Nepal and their residents were quiet, subdued, dignified. Whether it was mountainous expanses of Sindhupal chowk district, where more than 1,100 people were killed, or Sankhu outside Kathmandu, where several thousand houses in a dense urban cluster were wiped out, the dignity of the Nepalese men and women, quietly digging through the remains of their lost homes was the most striking aspect of reporting on the earthquake.

In their interviews, they were stoic, recounting the terrors of the day, the journeys of a lifetime in an unhurried way. It was easy to detect a tinge of frustrated resignation at the delayed relief measures, the inefficiency and weakness of their government in their voices. A woman who had been waiting for five days for help to get her daughter’s body retrieved from the rubble of a house was not hysterical. She stood quietly in the middle of a street and requested people to help. A man who had helped dig out bodies of four family members and was working with Nepalese Army rescuers to retrieve the fifth body of someone from his family was prosaic about helping find the right place to dig through the rubble of what was a four-storied house. In the hospitals, the surgeons who were working the longest hours went about their work patiently, professionally. In the emergency ward of Bir Hospital, one of the biggest hospitals in Kathmandu, the people who were intrusive were the reporter and the cameraman of a television network, who chose to read out his dispatch by the bed of a boy, whose arms and legs were broken and whose head was being shaved as the doctors prepared him for a surgery for his head injury. There was also a Western photographer who jumped around the bed trying to find the right angle for a shot. Even the most dramatic rescue operations were conducted in grave silence. In the Maitrinagar neighbourhood of Kathmandu, which houses low-end hotels, mostly used by Nepal’s migrant workers leaving for or returning from their jobs in India, Korea, or the West Asian and Arab countries, scores of buildings had pan caked. A several-storied hotel, Pokhara Guest House, had collapsed on itself and a group of French rescue workers and Nepalese paramilitary force men had recovered several bodies. A few hundred people watched the rescue operations in silence as the rescuers used mikes connected to sensitive machines which could track faint sounds and signs of life.

The noise throughout the aftermath of the earthquake came from television crews and their absurd questions, their indifference to the dignity of the survivors and the victims. The callousness wasn’t restricted to Nepalese citizens they interviewed, they wouldn’t even spare the team of Indian Police Service (IPS) and Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officers who were at the Mt. Everest base camp when the earthquake struck and an avalanche destroyed the base camp, killing at least 17 climbers and sherpas. After three very difficult days, the four officers — one of them injured — were airlifted by a private helicopter and left at the Tenzing-Hillary airport in Lukla, the landing point closest to the Everest base camp. Several bodies of the dead climbers lay on the airstrip. On leaving the airstrip, Sohail Sharma, a Maharashtra-cadre IPS officer, was lugging two heavy bags and walking uphill to a hotel. A young man began walking beside him and struck up a conversation about his close call at the Everest camp. Sharma, a 27-year-old, was exhausted after three days of horror and almost no food. He panted as he spoke to the young man and climbed the hill. After a while, he called his mother, who lives in Amritsar, from the hotel. She had been crying. The young man following Sharma turned out to be a reporter with a Hindi television network. He had secretly recorded their conversation. Sharma’s mother in Amritsar had heard her son’s straining voice at home. The worried mother, who had waited days for news of her son, broke down. “After everything we had been through, they made my mother cry,” Sharma told me.

Q.Which of the following can be true according to the passage?

A) The media was not only insensitive to Nepalese citizens, but also to the Indian civil servants who were at the Mt. Everest base camp when the earthquake struck.

B)A new thread was also launched by Nepalese citizens in the protest of Indian Media.

C) More than 7000 people killed in the Nepal earthquake tragedy.

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below. Certain words/phrases have been printed in bold to help you locate them.

Television is a noisy medium but it can convey silence with great power and effectiveness, when it chooses to. In the past week, Indian television journalists covering the earthquake in Nepal have generated a great deal of sound and fury. Apart from the insensitivity and the boisterousness, it was the combination of jingoism and the relentless advertising of India’s aid efforts by television reporters embedded with the Indian forces that led to the intensely hostile reactions from Nepalese citizens on Twitter, the creation of the hash tag of protest: #IndianMediaGoHome. It is undeniably an age of advertised charity but the gloating does hurt the recipients of your generosity. Unlike the televised hysterics, the broken villages of Nepal and their residents were quiet, subdued, dignified. Whether it was mountainous expanses of Sindhupal chowk district, where more than 1,100 people were killed, or Sankhu outside Kathmandu, where several thousand houses in a dense urban cluster were wiped out, the dignity of the Nepalese men and women, quietly digging through the remains of their lost homes was the most striking aspect of reporting on the earthquake.

In their interviews, they were stoic, recounting the terrors of the day, the journeys of a lifetime in an unhurried way. It was easy to detect a tinge of frustrated resignation at the delayed relief measures, the inefficiency and weakness of their government in their voices. A woman who had been waiting for five days for help to get her daughter’s body retrieved from the rubble of a house was not hysterical. She stood quietly in the middle of a street and requested people to help. A man who had helped dig out bodies of four family members and was working with Nepalese Army rescuers to retrieve the fifth body of someone from his family was prosaic about helping find the right place to dig through the rubble of what was a four-storied house. In the hospitals, the surgeons who were working the longest hours went about their work patiently, professionally. In the emergency ward of Bir Hospital, one of the biggest hospitals in Kathmandu, the people who were intrusive were the reporter and the cameraman of a television network, who chose to read out his dispatch by the bed of a boy, whose arms and legs were broken and whose head was being shaved as the doctors prepared him for a surgery for his head injury. There was also a Western photographer who jumped around the bed trying to find the right angle for a shot. Even the most dramatic rescue operations were conducted in grave silence. In the Maitrinagar neighbourhood of Kathmandu, which houses low-end hotels, mostly used by Nepal’s migrant workers leaving for or returning from their jobs in India, Korea, or the West Asian and Arab countries, scores of buildings had pan caked. A several-storied hotel, Pokhara Guest House, had collapsed on itself and a group of French rescue workers and Nepalese paramilitary force men had recovered several bodies. A few hundred people watched the rescue operations in silence as the rescuers used mikes connected to sensitive machines which could track faint sounds and signs of life.

The noise throughout the aftermath of the earthquake came from television crews and their absurd questions, their indifference to the dignity of the survivors and the victims. The callousness wasn’t restricted to Nepalese citizens they interviewed, they wouldn’t even spare the team of Indian Police Service (IPS) and Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officers who were at the Mt. Everest base camp when the earthquake struck and an avalanche destroyed the base camp, killing at least 17 climbers and sherpas. After three very difficult days, the four officers — one of them injured — were airlifted by a private helicopter and left at the Tenzing-Hillary airport in Lukla, the landing point closest to the Everest base camp. Several bodies of the dead climbers lay on the airstrip. On leaving the airstrip, Sohail Sharma, a Maharashtra-cadre IPS officer, was lugging two heavy bags and walking uphill to a hotel. A young man began walking beside him and struck up a conversation about his close call at the Everest camp. Sharma, a 27-year-old, was exhausted after three days of horror and almost no food. He panted as he spoke to the young man and climbed the hill. After a while, he called his mother, who lives in Amritsar, from the hotel. She had been crying. The young man following Sharma turned out to be a reporter with a Hindi television network. He had secretly recorded their conversation. Sharma’s mother in Amritsar had heard her son’s straining voice at home. The worried mother, who had waited days for news of her son, broke down. “After everything we had been through, they made my mother cry,” Sharma told me.

Q. Which of the incident were reported from Bir Hospital in the above passage?

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below. Certain words/phrases have been printed in bold to help you locate them.

Television is a noisy medium but it can convey silence with great power and effectiveness, when it chooses to. In the past week, Indian television journalists covering the earthquake in Nepal have generated a great deal of sound and fury. Apart from the insensitivity and the boisterousness, it was the combination of jingoism and the relentless advertising of India’s aid efforts by television reporters embedded with the Indian forces that led to the intensely hostile reactions from Nepalese citizens on Twitter, the creation of the hash tag of protest: #IndianMediaGoHome. It is undeniably an age of advertised charity but the gloating does hurt the recipients of your generosity. Unlike the televised hysterics, the broken villages of Nepal and their residents were quiet, subdued, dignified. Whether it was mountainous expanses of Sindhupal chowk district, where more than 1,100 people were killed, or Sankhu outside Kathmandu, where several thousand houses in a dense urban cluster were wiped out, the dignity of the Nepalese men and women, quietly digging through the remains of their lost homes was the most striking aspect of reporting on the earthquake.

In their interviews, they were stoic, recounting the terrors of the day, the journeys of a lifetime in an unhurried way. It was easy to detect a tinge of frustrated resignation at the delayed relief measures, the inefficiency and weakness of their government in their voices. A woman who had been waiting for five days for help to get her daughter’s body retrieved from the rubble of a house was not hysterical. She stood quietly in the middle of a street and requested people to help. A man who had helped dig out bodies of four family members and was working with Nepalese Army rescuers to retrieve the fifth body of someone from his family was prosaic about helping find the right place to dig through the rubble of what was a four-storied house. In the hospitals, the surgeons who were working the longest hours went about their work patiently, professionally. In the emergency ward of Bir Hospital, one of the biggest hospitals in Kathmandu, the people who were intrusive were the reporter and the cameraman of a television network, who chose to read out his dispatch by the bed of a boy, whose arms and legs were broken and whose head was being shaved as the doctors prepared him for a surgery for his head injury. There was also a Western photographer who jumped around the bed trying to find the right angle for a shot. Even the most dramatic rescue operations were conducted in grave silence. In the Maitrinagar neighbourhood of Kathmandu, which houses low-end hotels, mostly used by Nepal’s migrant workers leaving for or returning from their jobs in India, Korea, or the West Asian and Arab countries, scores of buildings had pan caked. A several-storied hotel, Pokhara Guest House, had collapsed on itself and a group of French rescue workers and Nepalese paramilitary force men had recovered several bodies. A few hundred people watched the rescue operations in silence as the rescuers used mikes connected to sensitive machines which could track faint sounds and signs of life.

The noise throughout the aftermath of the earthquake came from television crews and their absurd questions, their indifference to the dignity of the survivors and the victims. The callousness wasn’t restricted to Nepalese citizens they interviewed, they wouldn’t even spare the team of Indian Police Service (IPS) and Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officers who were at the Mt. Everest base camp when the earthquake struck and an avalanche destroyed the base camp, killing at least 17 climbers and sherpas. After three very difficult days, the four officers — one of them injured — were airlifted by a private helicopter and left at the Tenzing-Hillary airport in Lukla, the landing point closest to the Everest base camp. Several bodies of the dead climbers lay on the airstrip. On leaving the airstrip, Sohail Sharma, a Maharashtra-cadre IPS officer, was lugging two heavy bags and walking uphill to a hotel. A young man began walking beside him and struck up a conversation about his close call at the Everest camp. Sharma, a 27-year-old, was exhausted after three days of horror and almost no food. He panted as he spoke to the young man and climbed the hill. After a while, he called his mother, who lives in Amritsar, from the hotel. She had been crying. The young man following Sharma turned out to be a reporter with a Hindi television network. He had secretly recorded their conversation. Sharma’s mother in Amritsar had heard her son’s straining voice at home. The worried mother, who had waited days for news of her son, broke down. “After everything we had been through, they made my mother cry,” Sharma told me.

Q .What is the antonym of the word “hysterical”?

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below. Certain words/phrases have been printed in bold to help you locate them.

Television is a noisy medium but it can convey silence with great power and effectiveness, when it chooses to. In the past week, Indian television journalists covering the earthquake in Nepal have generated a great deal of sound and fury. Apart from the insensitivity and the boisterousness, it was the combination of jingoism and the relentless advertising of India’s aid efforts by television reporters embedded with the Indian forces that led to the intensely hostile reactions from Nepalese citizens on Twitter, the creation of the hash tag of protest: #IndianMediaGoHome. It is undeniably an age of advertised charity but the gloating does hurt the recipients of your generosity. Unlike the televised hysterics, the broken villages of Nepal and their residents were quiet, subdued, dignified. Whether it was mountainous expanses of Sindhupal chowk district, where more than 1,100 people were killed, or Sankhu outside Kathmandu, where several thousand houses in a dense urban cluster were wiped out, the dignity of the Nepalese men and women, quietly digging through the remains of their lost homes was the most striking aspect of reporting on the earthquake.

In their interviews, they were stoic, recounting the terrors of the day, the journeys of a lifetime in an unhurried way. It was easy to detect a tinge of frustrated resignation at the delayed relief measures, the inefficiency and weakness of their government in their voices. A woman who had been waiting for five days for help to get her daughter’s body retrieved from the rubble of a house was not hysterical. She stood quietly in the middle of a street and requested people to help. A man who had helped dig out bodies of four family members and was working with Nepalese Army rescuers to retrieve the fifth body of someone from his family was prosaic about helping find the right place to dig through the rubble of what was a four-storied house. In the hospitals, the surgeons who were working the longest hours went about their work patiently, professionally. In the emergency ward of Bir Hospital, one of the biggest hospitals in Kathmandu, the people who were intrusive were the reporter and the cameraman of a television network, who chose to read out his dispatch by the bed of a boy, whose arms and legs were broken and whose head was being shaved as the doctors prepared him for a surgery for his head injury. There was also a Western photographer who jumped around the bed trying to find the right angle for a shot. Even the most dramatic rescue operations were conducted in grave silence. In the Maitrinagar neighbourhood of Kathmandu, which houses low-end hotels, mostly used by Nepal’s migrant workers leaving for or returning from their jobs in India, Korea, or the West Asian and Arab countries, scores of buildings had pan caked. A several-storied hotel, Pokhara Guest House, had collapsed on itself and a group of French rescue workers and Nepalese paramilitary force men had recovered several bodies. A few hundred people watched the rescue operations in silence as the rescuers used mikes connected to sensitive machines which could track faint sounds and signs of life.

The noise throughout the aftermath of the earthquake came from television crews and their absurd questions, their indifference to the dignity of the survivors and the victims. The callousness wasn’t restricted to Nepalese citizens they interviewed, they wouldn’t even spare the team of Indian Police Service (IPS) and Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officers who were at the Mt. Everest base camp when the earthquake struck and an avalanche destroyed the base camp, killing at least 17 climbers and sherpas. After three very difficult days, the four officers — one of them injured — were airlifted by a private helicopter and left at the Tenzing-Hillary airport in Lukla, the landing point closest to the Everest base camp. Several bodies of the dead climbers lay on the airstrip. On leaving the airstrip, Sohail Sharma, a Maharashtra-cadre IPS officer, was lugging two heavy bags and walking uphill to a hotel. A young man began walking beside him and struck up a conversation about his close call at the Everest camp. Sharma, a 27-year-old, was exhausted after three days of horror and almost no food. He panted as he spoke to the young man and climbed the hill. After a while, he called his mother, who lives in Amritsar, from the hotel. She had been crying. The young man following Sharma turned out to be a reporter with a Hindi television network. He had secretly recorded their conversation. Sharma’s mother in Amritsar had heard her son’s straining voice at home. The worried mother, who had waited days for news of her son, broke down. “After everything we had been through, they made my mother cry,” Sharma told me.

Q.What is the antonym of the word “intrusive”?

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below. Certain words/phrases have been printed in bold to help you locate them.

Television is a noisy medium but it can convey silence with great power and effectiveness, when it chooses to. In the past week, Indian television journalists covering the earthquake in Nepal have generated a great deal of sound and fury. Apart from the insensitivity and the boisterousness, it was the combination of jingoism and the relentless advertising of India’s aid efforts by television reporters embedded with the Indian forces that led to the intensely hostile reactions from Nepalese citizens on Twitter, the creation of the hash tag of protest: #IndianMediaGoHome. It is undeniably an age of advertised charity but the gloating does hurt the recipients of your generosity. Unlike the televised hysterics, the broken villages of Nepal and their residents were quiet, subdued, dignified. Whether it was mountainous expanses of Sindhupal chowk district, where more than 1,100 people were killed, or Sankhu outside Kathmandu, where several thousand houses in a dense urban cluster were wiped out, the dignity of the Nepalese men and women, quietly digging through the remains of their lost homes was the most striking aspect of reporting on the earthquake.

In their interviews, they were stoic, recounting the terrors of the day, the journeys of a lifetime in an unhurried way. It was easy to detect a tinge of frustrated resignation at the delayed relief measures, the inefficiency and weakness of their government in their voices. A woman who had been waiting for five days for help to get her daughter’s body retrieved from the rubble of a house was not hysterical. She stood quietly in the middle of a street and requested people to help. A man who had helped dig out bodies of four family members and was working with Nepalese Army rescuers to retrieve the fifth body of someone from his family was prosaic about helping find the right place to dig through the rubble of what was a four-storied house. In the hospitals, the surgeons who were working the longest hours went about their work patiently, professionally. In the emergency ward of Bir Hospital, one of the biggest hospitals in Kathmandu, the people who were intrusive were the reporter and the cameraman of a television network, who chose to read out his dispatch by the bed of a boy, whose arms and legs were broken and whose head was being shaved as the doctors prepared him for a surgery for his head injury. There was also a Western photographer who jumped around the bed trying to find the right angle for a shot. Even the most dramatic rescue operations were conducted in grave silence. In the Maitrinagar neighbourhood of Kathmandu, which houses low-end hotels, mostly used by Nepal’s migrant workers leaving for or returning from their jobs in India, Korea, or the West Asian and Arab countries, scores of buildings had pan caked. A several-storied hotel, Pokhara Guest House, had collapsed on itself and a group of French rescue workers and Nepalese paramilitary force men had recovered several bodies. A few hundred people watched the rescue operations in silence as the rescuers used mikes connected to sensitive machines which could track faint sounds and signs of life.

The noise throughout the aftermath of the earthquake came from television crews and their absurd questions, their indifference to the dignity of the survivors and the victims. The callousness wasn’t restricted to Nepalese citizens they interviewed, they wouldn’t even spare the team of Indian Police Service (IPS) and Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officers who were at the Mt. Everest base camp when the earthquake struck and an avalanche destroyed the base camp, killing at least 17 climbers and sherpas. After three very difficult days, the four officers — one of them injured — were airlifted by a private helicopter and left at the Tenzing-Hillary airport in Lukla, the landing point closest to the Everest base camp. Several bodies of the dead climbers lay on the airstrip. On leaving the airstrip, Sohail Sharma, a Maharashtra-cadre IPS officer, was lugging two heavy bags and walking uphill to a hotel. A young man began walking beside him and struck up a conversation about his close call at the Everest camp. Sharma, a 27-year-old, was exhausted after three days of horror and almost no food. He panted as he spoke to the young man and climbed the hill. After a while, he called his mother, who lives in Amritsar, from the hotel. She had been crying. The young man following Sharma turned out to be a reporter with a Hindi television network. He had secretly recorded their conversation. Sharma’s mother in Amritsar had heard her son’s straining voice at home. The worried mother, who had waited days for news of her son, broke down. “After everything we had been through, they made my mother cry,” Sharma told me.

Q. What does the author mean by the phrase “The noise throughout the aftermath of the earthquake came from television”?

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below. Certain words/phrases have been printed in bold to help you locate them.

Television is a noisy medium but it can convey silence with great power and effectiveness, when it chooses to. In the past week, Indian television journalists covering the earthquake in Nepal have generated a great deal of sound and fury. Apart from the insensitivity and the boisterousness, it was the combination of jingoism and the relentless advertising of India’s aid efforts by television reporters embedded with the Indian forces that led to the intensely hostile reactions from Nepalese citizens on Twitter, the creation of the hash tag of protest: #IndianMediaGoHome. It is undeniably an age of advertised charity but the gloating does hurt the recipients of your generosity. Unlike the televised hysterics, the broken villages of Nepal and their residents were quiet, subdued, dignified. Whether it was mountainous expanses of Sindhupal chowk district, where more than 1,100 people were killed, or Sankhu outside Kathmandu, where several thousand houses in a dense urban cluster were wiped out, the dignity of the Nepalese men and women, quietly digging through the remains of their lost homes was the most striking aspect of reporting on the earthquake.

In their interviews, they were stoic, recounting the terrors of the day, the journeys of a lifetime in an unhurried way. It was easy to detect a tinge of frustrated resignation at the delayed relief measures, the inefficiency and weakness of their government in their voices. A woman who had been waiting for five days for help to get her daughter’s body retrieved from the rubble of a house was not hysterical. She stood quietly in the middle of a street and requested people to help. A man who had helped dig out bodies of four family members and was working with Nepalese Army rescuers to retrieve the fifth body of someone from his family was prosaic about helping find the right place to dig through the rubble of what was a four-storied house. In the hospitals, the surgeons who were working the longest hours went about their work patiently, professionally. In the emergency ward of Bir Hospital, one of the biggest hospitals in Kathmandu, the people who were intrusive were the reporter and the cameraman of a television network, who chose to read out his dispatch by the bed of a boy, whose arms and legs were broken and whose head was being shaved as the doctors prepared him for a surgery for his head injury. There was also a Western photographer who jumped around the bed trying to find the right angle for a shot. Even the most dramatic rescue operations were conducted in grave silence. In the Maitrinagar neighbourhood of Kathmandu, which houses low-end hotels, mostly used by Nepal’s migrant workers leaving for or returning from their jobs in India, Korea, or the West Asian and Arab countries, scores of buildings had pan caked. A several-storied hotel, Pokhara Guest House, had collapsed on itself and a group of French rescue workers and Nepalese paramilitary force men had recovered several bodies. A few hundred people watched the rescue operations in silence as the rescuers used mikes connected to sensitive machines which could track faint sounds and signs of life.

The noise throughout the aftermath of the earthquake came from television crews and their absurd questions, their indifference to the dignity of the survivors and the victims. The callousness wasn’t restricted to Nepalese citizens they interviewed, they wouldn’t even spare the team of Indian Police Service (IPS) and Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officers who were at the Mt. Everest base camp when the earthquake struck and an avalanche destroyed the base camp, killing at least 17 climbers and sherpas. After three very difficult days, the four officers — one of them injured — were airlifted by a private helicopter and left at the Tenzing-Hillary airport in Lukla, the landing point closest to the Everest base camp. Several bodies of the dead climbers lay on the airstrip. On leaving the airstrip, Sohail Sharma, a Maharashtra-cadre IPS officer, was lugging two heavy bags and walking uphill to a hotel. A young man began walking beside him and struck up a conversation about his close call at the Everest camp. Sharma, a 27-year-old, was exhausted after three days of horror and almost no food. He panted as he spoke to the young man and climbed the hill. After a while, he called his mother, who lives in Amritsar, from the hotel. She had been crying. The young man following Sharma turned out to be a reporter with a Hindi television network. He had secretly recorded their conversation. Sharma’s mother in Amritsar had heard her son’s straining voice at home. The worried mother, who had waited days for news of her son, broke down. “After everything we had been through, they made my mother cry,” Sharma told me.

Q.What is the antonym of the word “stoic”?

Directions: Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below. Certain words/phrases have been printed in bold to help you locate them.

Television is a noisy medium but it can convey silence with great power and effectiveness, when it chooses to. In the past week, Indian television journalists covering the earthquake in Nepal have generated a great deal of sound and fury. Apart from the insensitivity and the boisterousness, it was the combination of jingoism and the relentless advertising of India’s aid efforts by television reporters embedded with the Indian forces that led to the intensely hostile reactions from Nepalese citizens on Twitter, the creation of the hash tag of protest: #IndianMediaGoHome. It is undeniably an age of advertised charity but the gloating does hurt the recipients of your generosity. Unlike the televised hysterics, the broken villages of Nepal and their residents were quiet, subdued, dignified. Whether it was mountainous expanses of Sindhupal chowk district, where more than 1,100 people were killed, or Sankhu outside Kathmandu, where several thousand houses in a dense urban cluster were wiped out, the dignity of the Nepalese men and women, quietly digging through the remains of their lost homes was the most striking aspect of reporting on the earthquake.

In their interviews, they were stoic, recounting the terrors of the day, the journeys of a lifetime in an unhurried way. It was easy to detect a tinge of frustrated resignation at the delayed relief measures, the inefficiency and weakness of their government in their voices. A woman who had been waiting for five days for help to get her daughter’s body retrieved from the rubble of a house was not hysterical. She stood quietly in the middle of a street and requested people to help. A man who had helped dig out bodies of four family members and was working with Nepalese Army rescuers to retrieve the fifth body of someone from his family was prosaic about helping find the right place to dig through the rubble of what was a four-storied house. In the hospitals, the surgeons who were working the longest hours went about their work patiently, professionally. In the emergency ward of Bir Hospital, one of the biggest hospitals in Kathmandu, the people who were intrusive were the reporter and the cameraman of a television network, who chose to read out his dispatch by the bed of a boy, whose arms and legs were broken and whose head was being shaved as the doctors prepared him for a surgery for his head injury. There was also a Western photographer who jumped around the bed trying to find the right angle for a shot. Even the most dramatic rescue operations were conducted in grave silence. In the Maitrinagar neighbourhood of Kathmandu, which houses low-end hotels, mostly used by Nepal’s migrant workers leaving for or returning from their jobs in India, Korea, or the West Asian and Arab countries, scores of buildings had pan caked. A several-storied hotel, Pokhara Guest House, had collapsed on itself and a group of French rescue workers and Nepalese paramilitary force men had recovered several bodies. A few hundred people watched the rescue operations in silence as the rescuers used mikes connected to sensitive machines which could track faint sounds and signs of life.

The noise throughout the aftermath of the earthquake came from television crews and their absurd questions, their indifference to the dignity of the survivors and the victims. The callousness wasn’t restricted to Nepalese citizens they interviewed, they wouldn’t even spare the team of Indian Police Service (IPS) and Indian Administrative Service (IAS) officers who were at the Mt. Everest base camp when the earthquake struck and an avalanche destroyed the base camp, killing at least 17 climbers and sherpas. After three very difficult days, the four officers — one of them injured — were airlifted by a private helicopter and left at the Tenzing-Hillary airport in Lukla, the landing point closest to the Everest base camp. Several bodies of the dead climbers lay on the airstrip. On leaving the airstrip, Sohail Sharma, a Maharashtra-cadre IPS officer, was lugging two heavy bags and walking uphill to a hotel. A young man began walking beside him and struck up a conversation about his close call at the Everest camp. Sharma, a 27-year-old, was exhausted after three days of horror and almost no food. He panted as he spoke to the young man and climbed the hill. After a while, he called his mother, who lives in Amritsar, from the hotel. She had been crying. The young man following Sharma turned out to be a reporter with a Hindi television network. He had secretly recorded their conversation. Sharma’s mother in Amritsar had heard her son’s straining voice at home. The worried mother, who had waited days for news of her son, broke down. “After everything we had been through, they made my mother cry,” Sharma told me.

Q.What is the synonym of the word “hostile”?

Directions: In the following passage, some of the words have been left out, each of which is indicated by a number. Find the suitable word from the options given against each number and fill up the blanks with appropriate words to make the paragraph meaningful.

Once Gurudev Tagore asked Gandhiji: "Gandhiji, are you (11) unromantic? When in the early (12) the morning sun rises does it not (13) your heart with joy to see its reddish glow? When the birds (14) does not your heart thrill with its(15) music? When the rose opens its petals and blooms in the garden, does its sight not bring (16) to your heart?" The Mahatma replied, "Gurudev, I am not so dumb or (17) as not to be moved by the beauty of the rose or the morning rays of the sun or the music of the birds. But what can I do? My one (18), my one anxiety, my one ambition is: When shall I see the red tint of the rose on the cheeks of (19) (20) millions of my people? When shall I hear the sweet and melodious song of the birds in place of their agonizing sighs - when will such music come out of their soul? And when will that day come, when the light of the morning sun will illuminate the heart of the common man in India? When will I see its lustre and brightness on his face?"

Directions: In the following passage, some of the words have been left out, each of which is indicated by a number. Find the suitable word from the options given against each number and fill up the blanks with appropriate words to make the paragraph meaningful.

Once Gurudev Tagore asked Gandhiji: "Gandhiji, are you (11) unromantic? When in the early (12) the morning sun rises does it not (13) your heart with joy to see its reddish glow? When the birds (14) does not your heart thrill with its(15) music? When the rose opens its petals and blooms in the garden, does its sight not bring (16) to your heart?" The Mahatma replied, "Gurudev, I am not so dumb or (17) as not to be moved by the beauty of the rose or the morning rays of the sun or the music of the birds. But what can I do? My one (18), my one anxiety, my one ambition is: When shall I see the red tint of the rose on the cheeks of (19) (20) millions of my people? When shall I hear the sweet and melodious song of the birds in place of their agonizing sighs - when will such music come out of their soul? And when will that day come, when the light of the morning sun will illuminate the heart of the common man in India? When will I see its lustre and brightness on his face?"

Directions: In the following passage, some of the words have been left out, each of which is indicated by a number. Find the suitable word from the options given against each number and fill up the blanks with appropriate words to make the paragraph meaningful.

Once Gurudev Tagore asked Gandhiji: "Gandhiji, are you (11) unromantic? When in the early (12) the morning sun rises does it not (13) your heart with joy to see its reddish glow? When the birds (14) does not your heart thrill with its(15) music? When the rose opens its petals and blooms in the garden, does its sight not bring (16) to your heart?" The Mahatma replied, "Gurudev, I am not so dumb or (17) as not to be moved by the beauty of the rose or the morning rays of the sun or the music of the birds. But what can I do? My one (18), my one anxiety, my one ambition is: When shall I see the red tint of the rose on the cheeks of (19) (20) millions of my people? When shall I hear the sweet and melodious song of the birds in place of their agonizing sighs - when will such music come out of their soul? And when will that day come, when the light of the morning sun will illuminate the heart of the common man in India? When will I see its lustre and brightness on his face?"

Directions: In the following passage, some of the words have been left out, each of which is indicated by a number. Find the suitable word from the options given against each number and fill up the blanks with appropriate words to make the paragraph meaningful.

Once Gurudev Tagore asked Gandhiji: "Gandhiji, are you (11) unromantic? When in the early (12) the morning sun rises does it not (13) your heart with joy to see its reddish glow? When the birds (14) does not your heart thrill with its(15) music? When the rose opens its petals and blooms in the garden, does its sight not bring (16) to your heart?" The Mahatma replied, "Gurudev, I am not so dumb or (17) as not to be moved by the beauty of the rose or the morning rays of the sun or the music of the birds. But what can I do? My one (18), my one anxiety, my one ambition is: When shall I see the red tint of the rose on the cheeks of (19) (20) millions of my people? When shall I hear the sweet and melodious song of the birds in place of their agonizing sighs - when will such music come out of their soul? And when will that day come, when the light of the morning sun will illuminate the heart of the common man in India? When will I see its lustre and brightness on his face?"

Directions: In the following passage, some of the words have been left out, each of which is indicated by a number. Find the suitable word from the options given against each number and fill up the blanks with appropriate words to make the paragraph meaningful.

Once Gurudev Tagore asked Gandhiji: "Gandhiji, are you (11) unromantic? When in the early (12) the morning sun rises does it not (13) your heart with joy to see its reddish glow? When the birds (14) does not your heart thrill with its(15) music? When the rose opens its petals and blooms in the garden, does its sight not bring (16) to your heart?" The Mahatma replied, "Gurudev, I am not so dumb or (17) as not to be moved by the beauty of the rose or the morning rays of the sun or the music of the birds. But what can I do? My one (18), my one anxiety, my one ambition is: When shall I see the red tint of the rose on the cheeks of (19) (20) millions of my people? When shall I hear the sweet and melodious song of the birds in place of their agonizing sighs - when will such music come out of their soul? And when will that day come, when the light of the morning sun will illuminate the heart of the common man in India? When will I see its lustre and brightness on his face?"

Directions: In the following passage, some of the words have been left out, each of which is indicated by a number. Find the suitable word from the options given against each number and fill up the blanks with appropriate words to make the paragraph meaningful.

Once Gurudev Tagore asked Gandhiji: "Gandhiji, are you (11) unromantic? When in the early (12) the morning sun rises does it not (13) your heart with joy to see its reddish glow? When the birds (14) does not your heart thrill with its(15) music? When the rose opens its petals and blooms in the garden, does its sight not bring (16) to your heart?" The Mahatma replied, "Gurudev, I am not so dumb or (17) as not to be moved by the beauty of the rose or the morning rays of the sun or the music of the birds. But what can I do? My one (18), my one anxiety, my one ambition is: When shall I see the red tint of the rose on the cheeks of (19) (20) millions of my people? When shall I hear the sweet and melodious song of the birds in place of their agonizing sighs - when will such music come out of their soul? And when will that day come, when the light of the morning sun will illuminate the heart of the common man in India? When will I see its lustre and brightness on his face?"

Directions: In the following passage, some of the words have been left out, each of which is indicated by a number. Find the suitable word from the options given against each number and fill up the blanks with appropriate words to make the paragraph meaningful.

Once Gurudev Tagore asked Gandhiji: "Gandhiji, are you (11) unromantic? When in the early (12) the morning sun rises does it not (13) your heart with joy to see its reddish glow? When the birds (14) does not your heart thrill with its(15) music? When the rose opens its petals and blooms in the garden, does its sight not bring (16) to your heart?" The Mahatma replied, "Gurudev, I am not so dumb or (17) as not to be moved by the beauty of the rose or the morning rays of the sun or the music of the birds. But what can I do? My one (18), my one anxiety, my one ambition is: When shall I see the red tint of the rose on the cheeks of (19) (20) millions of my people? When shall I hear the sweet and melodious song of the birds in place of their agonizing sighs - when will such music come out of their soul? And when will that day come, when the light of the morning sun will illuminate the heart of the common man in India? When will I see its lustre and brightness on his face?"

Directions: In the following passage, some of the words have been left out, each of which is indicated by a number. Find the suitable word from the options given against each number and fill up the blanks with appropriate words to make the paragraph meaningful.

Once Gurudev Tagore asked Gandhiji: "Gandhiji, are you (11) unromantic? When in the early (12) the morning sun rises does it not (13) your heart with joy to see its reddish glow? When the birds (14) does not your heart thrill with its(15) music? When the rose opens its petals and blooms in the garden, does its sight not bring (16) to your heart?" The Mahatma replied, "Gurudev, I am not so dumb or (17) as not to be moved by the beauty of the rose or the morning rays of the sun or the music of the birds. But what can I do? My one (18), my one anxiety, my one ambition is: When shall I see the red tint of the rose on the cheeks of (19) (20) millions of my people? When shall I hear the sweet and melodious song of the birds in place of their agonizing sighs - when will such music come out of their soul? And when will that day come, when the light of the morning sun will illuminate the heart of the common man in India? When will I see its lustre and brightness on his face?"

Directions: In the following passage, some of the words have been left out, each of which is indicated by a number. Find the suitable word from the options given against each number and fill up the blanks with appropriate words to make the paragraph meaningful.

Once Gurudev Tagore asked Gandhiji: "Gandhiji, are you (11) unromantic? When in the early (12) the morning sun rises does it not (13) your heart with joy to see its reddish glow? When the birds (14) does not your heart thrill with its(15) music? When the rose opens its petals and blooms in the garden, does its sight not bring (16) to your heart?" The Mahatma replied, "Gurudev, I am not so dumb or (17) as not to be moved by the beauty of the rose or the morning rays of the sun or the music of the birds. But what can I do? My one (18), my one anxiety, my one ambition is: When shall I see the red tint of the rose on the cheeks of (19) (20) millions of my people? When shall I hear the sweet and melodious song of the birds in place of their agonizing sighs - when will such music come out of their soul? And when will that day come, when the light of the morning sun will illuminate the heart of the common man in India? When will I see its lustre and brightness on his face?"

Directions: In the following passage, some of the words have been left out, each of which is indicated by a number. Find the suitable word from the options given against each number and fill up the blanks with appropriate words to make the paragraph meaningful.

Once Gurudev Tagore asked Gandhiji: "Gandhiji, are you (11) unromantic? When in the early (12) the morning sun rises does it not (13) your heart with joy to see its reddish glow? When the birds (14) does not your heart thrill with its(15) music? When the rose opens its petals and blooms in the garden, does its sight not bring (16) to your heart?" The Mahatma replied, "Gurudev, I am not so dumb or (17) as not to be moved by the beauty of the rose or the morning rays of the sun or the music of the birds. But what can I do? My one (18), my one anxiety, my one ambition is: When shall I see the red tint of the rose on the cheeks of (19) (20) millions of my people? When shall I hear the sweet and melodious song of the birds in place of their agonizing sighs - when will such music come out of their soul? And when will that day come, when the light of the morning sun will illuminate the heart of the common man in India? When will I see its lustre and brightness on his face?"

Directions: Which of the phrases (1), (2), (3) and (4) given below each statement should replace the phrase printed in bold in the sentence to make it grammatically correct? If the sentence is correct as it is given, mark (5) as the answer.

 Anyone with a little interest in sports is bound to familiar with Sachin Tendulkar’s name. 

Directions: Which of the phrases (1), (2), (3) and (4) given below each statement should replace the phrase printed in bold in the sentence to make it grammatically correct? If the sentence is correct as it is given, mark (5) as the answer.

He asked me if I will accept his conditions if he helped me.

Directions: Which of the phrases (1), (2), (3) and (4) given below each statement should replace the phrase printed in bold in the sentence to make it grammatically correct? If the sentence is correct as it is given, mark (5) as the answer.

The ship was not fit to survive another storm as the damage was beyond repair.

Directions: Which of the phrases (1), (2), (3) and (4) given below each statement should replace the phrase printed in bold in the sentence to make it grammatically correct? If the sentence is correct as it is given, mark (5) as the answer.

His changed attitudes did not go well within his family.

Directions: Which of the phrases (1), (2), (3) and (4) given below each statement should replace the phrase printed in bold in the sentence to make it grammatically correct? If the sentence is correct as it is given, mark (5) as the answer.

What all this mean, is that the disciples are more powerful than their teacher.

Directions : Rearrange the following seven sentences (A), (B), (C), (D), (E), (F) and (G) in the proper sequence to form a meaningful paragraph and then answer the questions given below.

A) In the forest, a pair of leopards are said to have destroyed 50 watermelons in a field in one night.

B) While most of them are carnivores, a few are exceptions like eating giant pandas.

C) Carnivores are meat-eaters.

D) Crocodiles aren't the only carnivores to eat fruit, Jackals eat peanuts, dates and jamun.

E) The distinguishing character is not what they eat but the presence of claws, canines, and molars.

F) But the scientific classification of life forms includes an order of mammals called carnivora , a huge group of weasels, civets, dogs, cats, bears, mongooses and seals.

G) Brown palm civets live on a predominantly fruit diet, earning it the distinction of being one of the most frugivorous carnivores in the world, Frugivorous carnivore sounds like a contradiction.

Q. Which of the following would be the FIRST sentence after rearrangement?

Directions : Rearrange the following seven sentences (A), (B), (C), (D), (E), (F) and (G) in the proper sequence to form a meaningful paragraph and then answer the questions given below.

A) In the forest, a pair of leopards are said to have destroyed 50 watermelons in a field in one night.

B) While most of them are carnivores, a few are exceptions like eating giant pandas.

C) Carnivores are meat-eaters.

D) Crocodiles aren't the only carnivores to eat fruit, Jackals eat peanuts, dates and jamun.

E) The distinguishing character is not what they eat but the presence of claws, canines, and molars.

F) But the scientific classification of life forms includes an order of mammals called carnivora , a huge group of weasels, civets, dogs, cats, bears, mongooses and seals.

G) Brown palm civets live on a predominantly fruit diet, earning it the distinction of being one of the most frugivorous carnivores in the world, Frugivorous carnivore sounds like a contradiction.

Q. Which of the following would be the Last (SEVENTH) sentence after rearrangement?

Directions : Rearrange the following seven sentences (A), (B), (C), (D), (E), (F) and (G) in the proper sequence to form a meaningful paragraph and then answer the questions given below.

A) In the forest, a pair of leopards are said to have destroyed 50 watermelons in a field in one night.

B) While most of them are carnivores, a few are exceptions like eating giant pandas.

C) Carnivores are meat-eaters.

D) Crocodiles aren't the only carnivores to eat fruit, Jackals eat peanuts, dates and jamun.

E) The distinguishing character is not what they eat but the presence of claws, canines, and molars.

F) But the scientific classification of life forms includes an order of mammals called carnivora , a huge group of weasels, civets, dogs, cats, bears, mongooses and seals.

G) Brown palm civets live on a predominantly fruit diet, earning it the distinction of being one of the most frugivorous carnivores in the world, Frugivorous carnivore sounds like a contradiction.

Q. Which of the following would be the FOURTH sentence after rearrangement?

Directions : Rearrange the following seven sentences (A), (B), (C), (D), (E), (F) and (G) in the proper sequence to form a meaningful paragraph and then answer the questions given below.

A) In the forest, a pair of leopards are said to have destroyed 50 watermelons in a field in one night.

B) While most of them are carnivores, a few are exceptions like eating giant pandas.

C) Carnivores are meat-eaters.

D) Crocodiles aren't the only carnivores to eat fruit, Jackals eat peanuts, dates and jamun.

E) The distinguishing character is not what they eat but the presence of claws, canines, and molars.

F) But the scientific classification of life forms includes an order of mammals called carnivora , a huge group of weasels, civets, dogs, cats, bears, mongooses and seals.

G) Brown palm civets live on a predominantly fruit diet, earning it the distinction of being one of the most frugivorous carnivores in the world, Frugivorous carnivore sounds like a contradiction.

Q. Which of the following would be the SECOND sentence after rearrangement?

Directions : Rearrange the following seven sentences (A), (B), (C), (D), (E), (F) and (G) in the proper sequence to form a meaningful paragraph and then answer the questions given below.

A) In the forest, a pair of leopards are said to have destroyed 50 watermelons in a field in one night.

B) While most of them are carnivores, a few are exceptions like eating giant pandas.

C) Carnivores are meat-eaters.

D) Crocodiles aren't the only carnivores to eat fruit, Jackals eat peanuts, dates and jamun.

E) The distinguishing character is not what they eat but the presence of claws, canines, and molars.

F) But the scientific classification of life forms includes an order of mammals called carnivora , a huge group of weasels, civets, dogs, cats, bears, mongooses and seals.

G) Brown palm civets live on a predominantly fruit diet, earning it the distinction of being one of the most frugivorous carnivores in the world, Frugivorous carnivore sounds like a contradiction.

Q. Which of the following would be the SIXTH sentence after rearrangement?