Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
Another man might have thrown up his hands—but not Nawabdin. Nawab of course knew that he must proliferate his sources of revenue—the salary he received from K. K. Harouni for tending the tube wells would not even begin to suffice. He set up a little one-room flour mill, run off a condemned electric motor—condemned by him. He tried his hand at fish-farming in a little pond at the edge of his master's fields. He bought broken radios, fixed them, and resold them. He did not demur even when asked to fix watches, though that enterprise did spectacularly badly, and in fact earned him more kicks than kudos, for no watch he took apart ever kept time again. K. K. Harouni rarely went to his farms, but lived mostly in Lahore. Whenever the old man visited, Nawab would place himself night and day at the door. Nawab tended the household machinery, the air conditioners, water heaters, refrigerators, and water pumps. By his superhuman efforts he almost managed to maintain K. K. Harouni in the same mechanical cocoon, cooled and bathed and lighted and fed, that the landowner enjoyed in Lahore. Finally, one evening at teatime, gauging the psychological moment, Nawab asked if he might say a word. The landowner, who was cheerfully filing his nails in front of a crackling rosewood fire, told him to go ahead.
"Sir, as you know, your lands stretch from here to the Indus, and on these lands are fully seventeen tube wells, and to tend these seventeen tube wells there is but one man, me, your servant. In your service I have earned these gray hairs and now I cannot fulfill my duties as I should. Better a darkened house and proud hunger within than disgrace in the light of day. Release me, I ask you, I beg you."
"What's the matter, Nawabdin?" "Matter, sir? O what could be the matter in your service. I've eaten your salt for all my years. But sir, on the bicycle now, with my old legs, and with the many injuries I've received when heavy machinery fell on me—I cannot any longer bicycle about like a bridegroom from farm to farm, as I could when I first had the good fortune to enter your employment. I beg you, sir, let me go." "And what's the solution?" asked Harouni, seeing that they had come to the crux. He didn't particularly care one way or the other, except that it touched on his comfort—a matter of great interest to him. "Well, sir, if I had a motorcycle, then I could somehow limp along, at least until I train up some younger man." The crops that year had been good, Harouni felt expansive in front of the fire, and so, much to the disgust of the farm managers, Nawab received a brand-new motorcycle, a Honda 70. He even managed to extract an allowance for gasoline.
[Extracted with edits and revisions from "Nawabdin Electrician" ©2009 by Daniyal Mueenuddin]
Q. What motivated Nawabdin to establish various income sources apart from his job tending the tube wells?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
Another man might have thrown up his hands—but not Nawabdin. Nawab of course knew that he must proliferate his sources of revenue—the salary he received from K. K. Harouni for tending the tube wells would not even begin to suffice. He set up a little one-room flour mill, run off a condemned electric motor—condemned by him. He tried his hand at fish-farming in a little pond at the edge of his master's fields. He bought broken radios, fixed them, and resold them. He did not demur even when asked to fix watches, though that enterprise did spectacularly badly, and in fact earned him more kicks than kudos, for no watch he took apart ever kept time again. K. K. Harouni rarely went to his farms, but lived mostly in Lahore. Whenever the old man visited, Nawab would place himself night and day at the door. Nawab tended the household machinery, the air conditioners, water heaters, refrigerators, and water pumps. By his superhuman efforts he almost managed to maintain K. K. Harouni in the same mechanical cocoon, cooled and bathed and lighted and fed, that the landowner enjoyed in Lahore. Finally, one evening at teatime, gauging the psychological moment, Nawab asked if he might say a word. The landowner, who was cheerfully filing his nails in front of a crackling rosewood fire, told him to go ahead.
"Sir, as you know, your lands stretch from here to the Indus, and on these lands are fully seventeen tube wells, and to tend these seventeen tube wells there is but one man, me, your servant. In your service I have earned these gray hairs and now I cannot fulfill my duties as I should. Better a darkened house and proud hunger within than disgrace in the light of day. Release me, I ask you, I beg you."
"What's the matter, Nawabdin?" "Matter, sir? O what could be the matter in your service. I've eaten your salt for all my years. But sir, on the bicycle now, with my old legs, and with the many injuries I've received when heavy machinery fell on me—I cannot any longer bicycle about like a bridegroom from farm to farm, as I could when I first had the good fortune to enter your employment. I beg you, sir, let me go." "And what's the solution?" asked Harouni, seeing that they had come to the crux. He didn't particularly care one way or the other, except that it touched on his comfort—a matter of great interest to him. "Well, sir, if I had a motorcycle, then I could somehow limp along, at least until I train up some younger man." The crops that year had been good, Harouni felt expansive in front of the fire, and so, much to the disgust of the farm managers, Nawab received a brand-new motorcycle, a Honda 70. He even managed to extract an allowance for gasoline.
[Extracted with edits and revisions from "Nawabdin Electrician" ©2009 by Daniyal Mueenuddin]
Q. What was Nawabdin's experience when he attempted to fix watches?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
Another man might have thrown up his hands—but not Nawabdin. Nawab of course knew that he must proliferate his sources of revenue—the salary he received from K. K. Harouni for tending the tube wells would not even begin to suffice. He set up a little one-room flour mill, run off a condemned electric motor—condemned by him. He tried his hand at fish-farming in a little pond at the edge of his master's fields. He bought broken radios, fixed them, and resold them. He did not demur even when asked to fix watches, though that enterprise did spectacularly badly, and in fact earned him more kicks than kudos, for no watch he took apart ever kept time again. K. K. Harouni rarely went to his farms, but lived mostly in Lahore. Whenever the old man visited, Nawab would place himself night and day at the door. Nawab tended the household machinery, the air conditioners, water heaters, refrigerators, and water pumps. By his superhuman efforts he almost managed to maintain K. K. Harouni in the same mechanical cocoon, cooled and bathed and lighted and fed, that the landowner enjoyed in Lahore. Finally, one evening at teatime, gauging the psychological moment, Nawab asked if he might say a word. The landowner, who was cheerfully filing his nails in front of a crackling rosewood fire, told him to go ahead.
"Sir, as you know, your lands stretch from here to the Indus, and on these lands are fully seventeen tube wells, and to tend these seventeen tube wells there is but one man, me, your servant. In your service I have earned these gray hairs and now I cannot fulfill my duties as I should. Better a darkened house and proud hunger within than disgrace in the light of day. Release me, I ask you, I beg you."
"What's the matter, Nawabdin?" "Matter, sir? O what could be the matter in your service. I've eaten your salt for all my years. But sir, on the bicycle now, with my old legs, and with the many injuries I've received when heavy machinery fell on me—I cannot any longer bicycle about like a bridegroom from farm to farm, as I could when I first had the good fortune to enter your employment. I beg you, sir, let me go." "And what's the solution?" asked Harouni, seeing that they had come to the crux. He didn't particularly care one way or the other, except that it touched on his comfort—a matter of great interest to him. "Well, sir, if I had a motorcycle, then I could somehow limp along, at least until I train up some younger man." The crops that year had been good, Harouni felt expansive in front of the fire, and so, much to the disgust of the farm managers, Nawab received a brand-new motorcycle, a Honda 70. He even managed to extract an allowance for gasoline.
[Extracted with edits and revisions from "Nawabdin Electrician" ©2009 by Daniyal Mueenuddin]
Q. What was the outcome of Nawabdin's request to K. K. Harouni for assistance?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
Another man might have thrown up his hands—but not Nawabdin. Nawab of course knew that he must proliferate his sources of revenue—the salary he received from K. K. Harouni for tending the tube wells would not even begin to suffice. He set up a little one-room flour mill, run off a condemned electric motor—condemned by him. He tried his hand at fish-farming in a little pond at the edge of his master's fields. He bought broken radios, fixed them, and resold them. He did not demur even when asked to fix watches, though that enterprise did spectacularly badly, and in fact earned him more kicks than kudos, for no watch he took apart ever kept time again. K. K. Harouni rarely went to his farms, but lived mostly in Lahore. Whenever the old man visited, Nawab would place himself night and day at the door. Nawab tended the household machinery, the air conditioners, water heaters, refrigerators, and water pumps. By his superhuman efforts he almost managed to maintain K. K. Harouni in the same mechanical cocoon, cooled and bathed and lighted and fed, that the landowner enjoyed in Lahore. Finally, one evening at teatime, gauging the psychological moment, Nawab asked if he might say a word. The landowner, who was cheerfully filing his nails in front of a crackling rosewood fire, told him to go ahead.
"Sir, as you know, your lands stretch from here to the Indus, and on these lands are fully seventeen tube wells, and to tend these seventeen tube wells there is but one man, me, your servant. In your service I have earned these gray hairs and now I cannot fulfill my duties as I should. Better a darkened house and proud hunger within than disgrace in the light of day. Release me, I ask you, I beg you."
"What's the matter, Nawabdin?" "Matter, sir? O what could be the matter in your service. I've eaten your salt for all my years. But sir, on the bicycle now, with my old legs, and with the many injuries I've received when heavy machinery fell on me—I cannot any longer bicycle about like a bridegroom from farm to farm, as I could when I first had the good fortune to enter your employment. I beg you, sir, let me go." "And what's the solution?" asked Harouni, seeing that they had come to the crux. He didn't particularly care one way or the other, except that it touched on his comfort—a matter of great interest to him. "Well, sir, if I had a motorcycle, then I could somehow limp along, at least until I train up some younger man." The crops that year had been good, Harouni felt expansive in front of the fire, and so, much to the disgust of the farm managers, Nawab received a brand-new motorcycle, a Honda 70. He even managed to extract an allowance for gasoline.
[Extracted with edits and revisions from "Nawabdin Electrician" ©2009 by Daniyal Mueenuddin]
Q. What was Nawabdin's primary role in K. K. Harouni's household when the landowner visited?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
Another man might have thrown up his hands—but not Nawabdin. Nawab of course knew that he must proliferate his sources of revenue—the salary he received from K. K. Harouni for tending the tube wells would not even begin to suffice. He set up a little one-room flour mill, run off a condemned electric motor—condemned by him. He tried his hand at fish-farming in a little pond at the edge of his master's fields. He bought broken radios, fixed them, and resold them. He did not demur even when asked to fix watches, though that enterprise did spectacularly badly, and in fact earned him more kicks than kudos, for no watch he took apart ever kept time again. K. K. Harouni rarely went to his farms, but lived mostly in Lahore. Whenever the old man visited, Nawab would place himself night and day at the door. Nawab tended the household machinery, the air conditioners, water heaters, refrigerators, and water pumps. By his superhuman efforts he almost managed to maintain K. K. Harouni in the same mechanical cocoon, cooled and bathed and lighted and fed, that the landowner enjoyed in Lahore. Finally, one evening at teatime, gauging the psychological moment, Nawab asked if he might say a word. The landowner, who was cheerfully filing his nails in front of a crackling rosewood fire, told him to go ahead.
"Sir, as you know, your lands stretch from here to the Indus, and on these lands are fully seventeen tube wells, and to tend these seventeen tube wells there is but one man, me, your servant. In your service I have earned these gray hairs and now I cannot fulfill my duties as I should. Better a darkened house and proud hunger within than disgrace in the light of day. Release me, I ask you, I beg you."
"What's the matter, Nawabdin?" "Matter, sir? O what could be the matter in your service. I've eaten your salt for all my years. But sir, on the bicycle now, with my old legs, and with the many injuries I've received when heavy machinery fell on me—I cannot any longer bicycle about like a bridegroom from farm to farm, as I could when I first had the good fortune to enter your employment. I beg you, sir, let me go." "And what's the solution?" asked Harouni, seeing that they had come to the crux. He didn't particularly care one way or the other, except that it touched on his comfort—a matter of great interest to him. "Well, sir, if I had a motorcycle, then I could somehow limp along, at least until I train up some younger man." The crops that year had been good, Harouni felt expansive in front of the fire, and so, much to the disgust of the farm managers, Nawab received a brand-new motorcycle, a Honda 70. He even managed to extract an allowance for gasoline.
[Extracted with edits and revisions from "Nawabdin Electrician" ©2009 by Daniyal Mueenuddin]
Q. Why did Nawabdin ask for a motorcycle from K. K. Harouni?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
There is hardly any game other than cricket that is experiencing numerous basic changes. Cricket now has three championships for three formats — Tests, ODIs and T20s — making it unique. The International Cricket Council has also introduced day/night cricket, four-day Tests, and a World Test Championship to generate more interest in Test cricket.
However, none of these measures is bereft of criticism. Changes in the playing conditions during the 'day' of a D/N Test are being debated. The four-day Test has become a talking point. The WTC has also been criticized for its itinerary. The itinerary is asymmetric since neither do countries play the same number of Tests — home or away — nor against all opponents. It seems that time constraints and the fear of waning public interest have played a role in this abridged itinerary. The points system has been criticized as well. A two-Test series carries the same weightage (120 points) as a five-Test series. Lastly, the championship involves only nine out of the 12 Test-playing nations (Ireland, Afghanistan and Zimbabwe have been excluded). The ICC had awarded Test status to Ireland and Afghanistan in 2017 but can they withstand the rigours of Test cricket? Their first-class infrastructure and performance in their maiden series leave a lot to be desired.
Going by the principle of 'maturity gradation of a sport' (John Beech), cricket has entered its post-commercialization phase with the advent of the Indian Premier League and similar franchise-based T10 and T20 leagues. In this phase, not only are spectators willing to pay to watch the game but the players also earn their livelihood by playing cricket as a full-time job. The 'business' of cricket — sponsorship, media rights — also flourishes throughout the year irrespective of any 'season'. European professional football is already in the post-commercialization phase. Fifa, too, has embraced the networked governance model by shunning a hierarchical governance structure in which the bottom of the pyramid is expected to comply with regulations and policies devised by the apex body.
The globalization and the commercialization of a sport create competing interests given the increasing role of sports agents, media rights and sponsors. The networked or flat governance model is more democratic by nature; each stakeholder has a say on requirements and policy-making. Fifa has brought on-board the Uefa, media, sponsors, agents, supporters, national boards, governments and even clubs in the governing of football. The International Olympic Committee has opted for a similar approach. Cricket can emulate these footsteps to create an ecosystem where each format has a context and a future, spectators receive their money's worth and cricketers are well-compensated.
[Extracted from an editorial published on 18 March, 2021 in The Telegraph]
Q. What is the primary reason behind the introduction of various changes in cricket, according to the passage?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
There is hardly any game other than cricket that is experiencing numerous basic changes. Cricket now has three championships for three formats — Tests, ODIs and T20s — making it unique. The International Cricket Council has also introduced day/night cricket, four-day Tests, and a World Test Championship to generate more interest in Test cricket.
However, none of these measures is bereft of criticism. Changes in the playing conditions during the 'day' of a D/N Test are being debated. The four-day Test has become a talking point. The WTC has also been criticized for its itinerary. The itinerary is asymmetric since neither do countries play the same number of Tests — home or away — nor against all opponents. It seems that time constraints and the fear of waning public interest have played a role in this abridged itinerary. The points system has been criticized as well. A two-Test series carries the same weightage (120 points) as a five-Test series. Lastly, the championship involves only nine out of the 12 Test-playing nations (Ireland, Afghanistan and Zimbabwe have been excluded). The ICC had awarded Test status to Ireland and Afghanistan in 2017 but can they withstand the rigours of Test cricket? Their first-class infrastructure and performance in their maiden series leave a lot to be desired.
Going by the principle of 'maturity gradation of a sport' (John Beech), cricket has entered its post-commercialization phase with the advent of the Indian Premier League and similar franchise-based T10 and T20 leagues. In this phase, not only are spectators willing to pay to watch the game but the players also earn their livelihood by playing cricket as a full-time job. The 'business' of cricket — sponsorship, media rights — also flourishes throughout the year irrespective of any 'season'. European professional football is already in the post-commercialization phase. Fifa, too, has embraced the networked governance model by shunning a hierarchical governance structure in which the bottom of the pyramid is expected to comply with regulations and policies devised by the apex body.
The globalization and the commercialization of a sport create competing interests given the increasing role of sports agents, media rights and sponsors. The networked or flat governance model is more democratic by nature; each stakeholder has a say on requirements and policy-making. Fifa has brought on-board the Uefa, media, sponsors, agents, supporters, national boards, governments and even clubs in the governing of football. The International Olympic Committee has opted for a similar approach. Cricket can emulate these footsteps to create an ecosystem where each format has a context and a future, spectators receive their money's worth and cricketers are well-compensated.
[Extracted from an editorial published on 18 March, 2021 in The Telegraph]
Q. Which of the following countries are NOT part of the World Test Championship (WTC), according to the passage?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
There is hardly any game other than cricket that is experiencing numerous basic changes. Cricket now has three championships for three formats — Tests, ODIs and T20s — making it unique. The International Cricket Council has also introduced day/night cricket, four-day Tests, and a World Test Championship to generate more interest in Test cricket.
However, none of these measures is bereft of criticism. Changes in the playing conditions during the 'day' of a D/N Test are being debated. The four-day Test has become a talking point. The WTC has also been criticized for its itinerary. The itinerary is asymmetric since neither do countries play the same number of Tests — home or away — nor against all opponents. It seems that time constraints and the fear of waning public interest have played a role in this abridged itinerary. The points system has been criticized as well. A two-Test series carries the same weightage (120 points) as a five-Test series. Lastly, the championship involves only nine out of the 12 Test-playing nations (Ireland, Afghanistan and Zimbabwe have been excluded). The ICC had awarded Test status to Ireland and Afghanistan in 2017 but can they withstand the rigours of Test cricket? Their first-class infrastructure and performance in their maiden series leave a lot to be desired.
Going by the principle of 'maturity gradation of a sport' (John Beech), cricket has entered its post-commercialization phase with the advent of the Indian Premier League and similar franchise-based T10 and T20 leagues. In this phase, not only are spectators willing to pay to watch the game but the players also earn their livelihood by playing cricket as a full-time job. The 'business' of cricket — sponsorship, media rights — also flourishes throughout the year irrespective of any 'season'. European professional football is already in the post-commercialization phase. Fifa, too, has embraced the networked governance model by shunning a hierarchical governance structure in which the bottom of the pyramid is expected to comply with regulations and policies devised by the apex body.
The globalization and the commercialization of a sport create competing interests given the increasing role of sports agents, media rights and sponsors. The networked or flat governance model is more democratic by nature; each stakeholder has a say on requirements and policy-making. Fifa has brought on-board the Uefa, media, sponsors, agents, supporters, national boards, governments and even clubs in the governing of football. The International Olympic Committee has opted for a similar approach. Cricket can emulate these footsteps to create an ecosystem where each format has a context and a future, spectators receive their money's worth and cricketers are well-compensated.
[Extracted from an editorial published on 18 March, 2021 in The Telegraph]
Q. What phase does the passage suggest cricket has entered due to the Indian Premier League (IPL) and similar franchise-based leagues?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
There is hardly any game other than cricket that is experiencing numerous basic changes. Cricket now has three championships for three formats — Tests, ODIs and T20s — making it unique. The International Cricket Council has also introduced day/night cricket, four-day Tests, and a World Test Championship to generate more interest in Test cricket.
However, none of these measures is bereft of criticism. Changes in the playing conditions during the 'day' of a D/N Test are being debated. The four-day Test has become a talking point. The WTC has also been criticized for its itinerary. The itinerary is asymmetric since neither do countries play the same number of Tests — home or away — nor against all opponents. It seems that time constraints and the fear of waning public interest have played a role in this abridged itinerary. The points system has been criticized as well. A two-Test series carries the same weightage (120 points) as a five-Test series. Lastly, the championship involves only nine out of the 12 Test-playing nations (Ireland, Afghanistan and Zimbabwe have been excluded). The ICC had awarded Test status to Ireland and Afghanistan in 2017 but can they withstand the rigours of Test cricket? Their first-class infrastructure and performance in their maiden series leave a lot to be desired.
Going by the principle of 'maturity gradation of a sport' (John Beech), cricket has entered its post-commercialization phase with the advent of the Indian Premier League and similar franchise-based T10 and T20 leagues. In this phase, not only are spectators willing to pay to watch the game but the players also earn their livelihood by playing cricket as a full-time job. The 'business' of cricket — sponsorship, media rights — also flourishes throughout the year irrespective of any 'season'. European professional football is already in the post-commercialization phase. Fifa, too, has embraced the networked governance model by shunning a hierarchical governance structure in which the bottom of the pyramid is expected to comply with regulations and policies devised by the apex body.
The globalization and the commercialization of a sport create competing interests given the increasing role of sports agents, media rights and sponsors. The networked or flat governance model is more democratic by nature; each stakeholder has a say on requirements and policy-making. Fifa has brought on-board the Uefa, media, sponsors, agents, supporters, national boards, governments and even clubs in the governing of football. The International Olympic Committee has opted for a similar approach. Cricket can emulate these footsteps to create an ecosystem where each format has a context and a future, spectators receive their money's worth and cricketers are well-compensated.
[Extracted from an editorial published on 18 March, 2021 in The Telegraph]
Q. According to the passage, what is a characteristic of the networked governance model in sports?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
There is hardly any game other than cricket that is experiencing numerous basic changes. Cricket now has three championships for three formats — Tests, ODIs and T20s — making it unique. The International Cricket Council has also introduced day/night cricket, four-day Tests, and a World Test Championship to generate more interest in Test cricket.
However, none of these measures is bereft of criticism. Changes in the playing conditions during the 'day' of a D/N Test are being debated. The four-day Test has become a talking point. The WTC has also been criticized for its itinerary. The itinerary is asymmetric since neither do countries play the same number of Tests — home or away — nor against all opponents. It seems that time constraints and the fear of waning public interest have played a role in this abridged itinerary. The points system has been criticized as well. A two-Test series carries the same weightage (120 points) as a five-Test series. Lastly, the championship involves only nine out of the 12 Test-playing nations (Ireland, Afghanistan and Zimbabwe have been excluded). The ICC had awarded Test status to Ireland and Afghanistan in 2017 but can they withstand the rigours of Test cricket? Their first-class infrastructure and performance in their maiden series leave a lot to be desired.
Going by the principle of 'maturity gradation of a sport' (John Beech), cricket has entered its post-commercialization phase with the advent of the Indian Premier League and similar franchise-based T10 and T20 leagues. In this phase, not only are spectators willing to pay to watch the game but the players also earn their livelihood by playing cricket as a full-time job. The 'business' of cricket — sponsorship, media rights — also flourishes throughout the year irrespective of any 'season'. European professional football is already in the post-commercialization phase. Fifa, too, has embraced the networked governance model by shunning a hierarchical governance structure in which the bottom of the pyramid is expected to comply with regulations and policies devised by the apex body.
The globalization and the commercialization of a sport create competing interests given the increasing role of sports agents, media rights and sponsors. The networked or flat governance model is more democratic by nature; each stakeholder has a say on requirements and policy-making. Fifa has brought on-board the Uefa, media, sponsors, agents, supporters, national boards, governments and even clubs in the governing of football. The International Olympic Committee has opted for a similar approach. Cricket can emulate these footsteps to create an ecosystem where each format has a context and a future, spectators receive their money's worth and cricketers are well-compensated.
[Extracted from an editorial published on 18 March, 2021 in The Telegraph]
Q. Why has the itinerary of the World Test Championship (WTC) been criticized, according to the passage?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
When my father, the ideas man, had first proposed the idea of manufacturing to his siblings back in the early 1950s, they had expressed their reservations. In those days, bicycle parts and components were by and large imported. The supplies were tightly controlled by a cartel, comprising of the old British agency houses, which had been passed on to Indian associates post-Independence. These entities doled out supplies on a quota basis. My uncle Om Prakash remembered having to wait for two whole days at the offices of Dunlop (suppliers of tyres and tubes), just to meet the manager.
My father was persuasive. He was confident that they had the knowhow to manufacture bicycles, but that dream would be stillborn if India's dependence on imported parts and components continued. He proposed that the brothers manufacture their own. Technology and capital were both scarce, they protested. Even before the karigars (artisans) could get down to making components, tools and dyes would have to be created. Everything would have to be done from scratch, on a shoestring budget.
While my uncles Dayanand and Om Prakash were packing up to move to Ludhiana, one of their suppliers, a Muslim by the name of Kareem Deen, was preparing to shift to Pakistan. He manufactured bicycle saddles under a brand name he had created himself. Before he left, Karam Deen went to see his friend Om Prakash Munjal.
What happened next would be a life-changing moment for our family. Uncle Om Prakash asked Kareem Deen whether the Munjals could use that brand name for their business. He agreed. The gesture was typical of the way businesses were run at the time – on reputation, relationships and goodwill. The worth and value of brands and patents were not appreciated or understood. And so, with nothing more than a casual nod, his brand passed to the Munjals. Yes, dear reader, you guessed correctly. It was "Hero".
Once my uncles came around to the idea of manufacturing, a confident, "Yeh bhi kar lenge" (We can do this too), resounded around the Munjal residence and workplace. It was, of course, easier said than done. After several hits and misses, they finally came up with a product that satisfied all the siblings.
But disaster lurked ahead, one that almost cost the Munjals their business. The welding in some of the bicycle forks cracked and the pipes broke off, with the result that the incensed dealers returned all orders and consignments. The siblings pooled their resources and paid back the affected parties, no questions asked. Their reputation survived, but their pockets were almost empty. The Munjal brothers girded their loins, went back to the design table and perfected the forks.
[Extracted with edits and revisions from The Making Of Hero: Four Brothers, Two Wheels And A Revolution That Shaped India, Sunil Kant Munjal, HarperCollins India.]
Q. What motivated the Munjal brothers to consider manufacturing bicycle parts and components in India in the 1950s?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
When my father, the ideas man, had first proposed the idea of manufacturing to his siblings back in the early 1950s, they had expressed their reservations. In those days, bicycle parts and components were by and large imported. The supplies were tightly controlled by a cartel, comprising of the old British agency houses, which had been passed on to Indian associates post-Independence. These entities doled out supplies on a quota basis. My uncle Om Prakash remembered having to wait for two whole days at the offices of Dunlop (suppliers of tyres and tubes), just to meet the manager.
My father was persuasive. He was confident that they had the knowhow to manufacture bicycles, but that dream would be stillborn if India's dependence on imported parts and components continued. He proposed that the brothers manufacture their own. Technology and capital were both scarce, they protested. Even before the karigars (artisans) could get down to making components, tools and dyes would have to be created. Everything would have to be done from scratch, on a shoestring budget.
While my uncles Dayanand and Om Prakash were packing up to move to Ludhiana, one of their suppliers, a Muslim by the name of Kareem Deen, was preparing to shift to Pakistan. He manufactured bicycle saddles under a brand name he had created himself. Before he left, Karam Deen went to see his friend Om Prakash Munjal.
What happened next would be a life-changing moment for our family. Uncle Om Prakash asked Kareem Deen whether the Munjals could use that brand name for their business. He agreed. The gesture was typical of the way businesses were run at the time – on reputation, relationships and goodwill. The worth and value of brands and patents were not appreciated or understood. And so, with nothing more than a casual nod, his brand passed to the Munjals. Yes, dear reader, you guessed correctly. It was "Hero".
Once my uncles came around to the idea of manufacturing, a confident, "Yeh bhi kar lenge" (We can do this too), resounded around the Munjal residence and workplace. It was, of course, easier said than done. After several hits and misses, they finally came up with a product that satisfied all the siblings.
But disaster lurked ahead, one that almost cost the Munjals their business. The welding in some of the bicycle forks cracked and the pipes broke off, with the result that the incensed dealers returned all orders and consignments. The siblings pooled their resources and paid back the affected parties, no questions asked. Their reputation survived, but their pockets were almost empty. The Munjal brothers girded their loins, went back to the design table and perfected the forks.
[Extracted with edits and revisions from The Making Of Hero: Four Brothers, Two Wheels And A Revolution That Shaped India, Sunil Kant Munjal, HarperCollins India.]
Q. What role did Kareem Deen play in the Munjal family's business journey?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
When my father, the ideas man, had first proposed the idea of manufacturing to his siblings back in the early 1950s, they had expressed their reservations. In those days, bicycle parts and components were by and large imported. The supplies were tightly controlled by a cartel, comprising of the old British agency houses, which had been passed on to Indian associates post-Independence. These entities doled out supplies on a quota basis. My uncle Om Prakash remembered having to wait for two whole days at the offices of Dunlop (suppliers of tyres and tubes), just to meet the manager.
My father was persuasive. He was confident that they had the knowhow to manufacture bicycles, but that dream would be stillborn if India's dependence on imported parts and components continued. He proposed that the brothers manufacture their own. Technology and capital were both scarce, they protested. Even before the karigars (artisans) could get down to making components, tools and dyes would have to be created. Everything would have to be done from scratch, on a shoestring budget.
While my uncles Dayanand and Om Prakash were packing up to move to Ludhiana, one of their suppliers, a Muslim by the name of Kareem Deen, was preparing to shift to Pakistan. He manufactured bicycle saddles under a brand name he had created himself. Before he left, Karam Deen went to see his friend Om Prakash Munjal.
What happened next would be a life-changing moment for our family. Uncle Om Prakash asked Kareem Deen whether the Munjals could use that brand name for their business. He agreed. The gesture was typical of the way businesses were run at the time – on reputation, relationships and goodwill. The worth and value of brands and patents were not appreciated or understood. And so, with nothing more than a casual nod, his brand passed to the Munjals. Yes, dear reader, you guessed correctly. It was "Hero".
Once my uncles came around to the idea of manufacturing, a confident, "Yeh bhi kar lenge" (We can do this too), resounded around the Munjal residence and workplace. It was, of course, easier said than done. After several hits and misses, they finally came up with a product that satisfied all the siblings.
But disaster lurked ahead, one that almost cost the Munjals their business. The welding in some of the bicycle forks cracked and the pipes broke off, with the result that the incensed dealers returned all orders and consignments. The siblings pooled their resources and paid back the affected parties, no questions asked. Their reputation survived, but their pockets were almost empty. The Munjal brothers girded their loins, went back to the design table and perfected the forks.
[Extracted with edits and revisions from The Making Of Hero: Four Brothers, Two Wheels And A Revolution That Shaped India, Sunil Kant Munjal, HarperCollins India.]
Q. What was the primary reason for the Munjal brothers' hesitation to enter the bicycle manufacturing business?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
When my father, the ideas man, had first proposed the idea of manufacturing to his siblings back in the early 1950s, they had expressed their reservations. In those days, bicycle parts and components were by and large imported. The supplies were tightly controlled by a cartel, comprising of the old British agency houses, which had been passed on to Indian associates post-Independence. These entities doled out supplies on a quota basis. My uncle Om Prakash remembered having to wait for two whole days at the offices of Dunlop (suppliers of tyres and tubes), just to meet the manager.
My father was persuasive. He was confident that they had the knowhow to manufacture bicycles, but that dream would be stillborn if India's dependence on imported parts and components continued. He proposed that the brothers manufacture their own. Technology and capital were both scarce, they protested. Even before the karigars (artisans) could get down to making components, tools and dyes would have to be created. Everything would have to be done from scratch, on a shoestring budget.
While my uncles Dayanand and Om Prakash were packing up to move to Ludhiana, one of their suppliers, a Muslim by the name of Kareem Deen, was preparing to shift to Pakistan. He manufactured bicycle saddles under a brand name he had created himself. Before he left, Karam Deen went to see his friend Om Prakash Munjal.
What happened next would be a life-changing moment for our family. Uncle Om Prakash asked Kareem Deen whether the Munjals could use that brand name for their business. He agreed. The gesture was typical of the way businesses were run at the time – on reputation, relationships and goodwill. The worth and value of brands and patents were not appreciated or understood. And so, with nothing more than a casual nod, his brand passed to the Munjals. Yes, dear reader, you guessed correctly. It was "Hero".
Once my uncles came around to the idea of manufacturing, a confident, "Yeh bhi kar lenge" (We can do this too), resounded around the Munjal residence and workplace. It was, of course, easier said than done. After several hits and misses, they finally came up with a product that satisfied all the siblings.
But disaster lurked ahead, one that almost cost the Munjals their business. The welding in some of the bicycle forks cracked and the pipes broke off, with the result that the incensed dealers returned all orders and consignments. The siblings pooled their resources and paid back the affected parties, no questions asked. Their reputation survived, but their pockets were almost empty. The Munjal brothers girded their loins, went back to the design table and perfected the forks.
[Extracted with edits and revisions from The Making Of Hero: Four Brothers, Two Wheels And A Revolution That Shaped India, Sunil Kant Munjal, HarperCollins India.]
Q. How did the Munjal brothers respond when the dealers returned all orders and consignments due to defective bicycle forks?
Directions: Read the given passage and answer the question that follows.
When my father, the ideas man, had first proposed the idea of manufacturing to his siblings back in the early 1950s, they had expressed their reservations. In those days, bicycle parts and components were by and large imported. The supplies were tightly controlled by a cartel, comprising of the old British agency houses, which had been passed on to Indian associates post-Independence. These entities doled out supplies on a quota basis. My uncle Om Prakash remembered having to wait for two whole days at the offices of Dunlop (suppliers of tyres and tubes), just to meet the manager.
My father was persuasive. He was confident that they had the knowhow to manufacture bicycles, but that dream would be stillborn if India's dependence on imported parts and components continued. He proposed that the brothers manufacture their own. Technology and capital were both scarce, they protested. Even before the karigars (artisans) could get down to making components, tools and dyes would have to be created. Everything would have to be done from scratch, on a shoestring budget.
While my uncles Dayanand and Om Prakash were packing up to move to Ludhiana, one of their suppliers, a Muslim by the name of Kareem Deen, was preparing to shift to Pakistan. He manufactured bicycle saddles under a brand name he had created himself. Before he left, Karam Deen went to see his friend Om Prakash Munjal.
What happened next would be a life-changing moment for our family. Uncle Om Prakash asked Kareem Deen whether the Munjals could use that brand name for their business. He agreed. The gesture was typical of the way businesses were run at the time – on reputation, relationships and goodwill. The worth and value of brands and patents were not appreciated or understood. And so, with nothing more than a casual nod, his brand passed to the Munjals. Yes, dear reader, you guessed correctly. It was "Hero".
Once my uncles came around to the idea of manufacturing, a confident, "Yeh bhi kar lenge" (We can do this too), resounded around the Munjal residence and workplace. It was, of course, easier said than done. After several hits and misses, they finally came up with a product that satisfied all the siblings.
But disaster lurked ahead, one that almost cost the Munjals their business. The welding in some of the bicycle forks cracked and the pipes broke off, with the result that the incensed dealers returned all orders and consignments. The siblings pooled their resources and paid back the affected parties, no questions asked. Their reputation survived, but their pockets were almost empty. The Munjal brothers girded their loins, went back to the design table and perfected the forks.
[Extracted with edits and revisions from The Making Of Hero: Four Brothers, Two Wheels And A Revolution That Shaped India, Sunil Kant Munjal, HarperCollins India.]
Q. Which factor played a significant role in the Munjals' decision to start manufacturing bicycle components themselves?
Directions: Kindly read the passage carefully and answer the questions given beside.
Homer’s Iliad opens with some epic ancient Greek sulking. Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks, is forced to return Chryseis, the woman he won as a prize following a battle at Troy. Annoyed, he seizes Briseis, the woman-trophy of Achilles, the Greeks’ star fighter. Achilles wails that it’s unfair, announces that he’s going home, and flounces off to his tent. Fine, replies Agamemnon. Go home, I never liked you anyway.
Most of us will never experience the frustration of having our human trophy confiscated by a king, but there are familiar aspects of Achilles’ plight. Like Achilles, you might be a sulker. You’ve probably had to deal with someone else’s sulk, too. But what is sulking, exactly? Why do we do it? And why does it have such a bad reputation?
Let’s zoom in on what sulking involves. Sulkers sulk when they feel wronged. Sometimes they really have been wronged, but sometimes they are just sour about losing fair and square. Take the former US president Donald Trump, who – with the COVID-19 pandemic raging around him – withdrew from public life following his 2020 election defeat and nurtured baseless conspiracy theories about how electoral fraud had cost him his rightful victory. Trump hadn’t been wronged, but that didn’t stop him sulking.
Next, a sulker deals with their feeling of being wronged by socially withdrawing. Achilles withdrew from fighting. Trump withdrew from his presidential duties. The rest of us may simply refuse to speak to whoever we feel wronged by. Socially withdrawing when we feel wronged isn’t always sulking, though. Two things are needed to turn withdrawal into a sulk. One is an element of punishment: a sulker intends their withdrawal to be inconvenient for their target – ie, the person(s) they’re sulking at – whether that’s by losing in battle (as Agamemnon did while Achilles sulked), being ravaged by disease (as the US public was while Trump sulked), or suffering the stress of the cold shoulder. Without an inconvenienced target, sulking is unsatisfying. There’s no point throwing a sulk at someone who doesn’t care about communicating with you.
The second thing needed to turn a withdrawal into sulk is – perhaps surprisingly – communication with the target. A successful sulk communicates to the target that the sulker is upset, that they resent the target for their being upset, and that it’s the target’s job to make things right.
Q. According to the passage, why did Achilles withdraw from fighting?
Directions: Kindly read the passage carefully and answer the questions given beside.
Homer’s Iliad opens with some epic ancient Greek sulking. Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks, is forced to return Chryseis, the woman he won as a prize following a battle at Troy. Annoyed, he seizes Briseis, the woman-trophy of Achilles, the Greeks’ star fighter. Achilles wails that it’s unfair, announces that he’s going home, and flounces off to his tent. Fine, replies Agamemnon. Go home, I never liked you anyway.
Most of us will never experience the frustration of having our human trophy confiscated by a king, but there are familiar aspects of Achilles’ plight. Like Achilles, you might be a sulker. You’ve probably had to deal with someone else’s sulk, too. But what is sulking, exactly? Why do we do it? And why does it have such a bad reputation?
Let’s zoom in on what sulking involves. Sulkers sulk when they feel wronged. Sometimes they really have been wronged, but sometimes they are just sour about losing fair and square. Take the former US president Donald Trump, who – with the COVID-19 pandemic raging around him – withdrew from public life following his 2020 election defeat and nurtured baseless conspiracy theories about how electoral fraud had cost him his rightful victory. Trump hadn’t been wronged, but that didn’t stop him sulking.
Next, a sulker deals with their feeling of being wronged by socially withdrawing. Achilles withdrew from fighting. Trump withdrew from his presidential duties. The rest of us may simply refuse to speak to whoever we feel wronged by. Socially withdrawing when we feel wronged isn’t always sulking, though. Two things are needed to turn withdrawal into a sulk. One is an element of punishment: a sulker intends their withdrawal to be inconvenient for their target – ie, the person(s) they’re sulking at – whether that’s by losing in battle (as Agamemnon did while Achilles sulked), being ravaged by disease (as the US public was while Trump sulked), or suffering the stress of the cold shoulder. Without an inconvenienced target, sulking is unsatisfying. There’s no point throwing a sulk at someone who doesn’t care about communicating with you.
The second thing needed to turn a withdrawal into sulk is – perhaps surprisingly – communication with the target. A successful sulk communicates to the target that the sulker is upset, that they resent the target for their being upset, and that it’s the target’s job to make things right.
Q. What is one of the essential elements required to turn a withdrawal into sulking, as described in the passage?
Directions: Kindly read the passage carefully and answer the questions given beside.
Homer’s Iliad opens with some epic ancient Greek sulking. Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks, is forced to return Chryseis, the woman he won as a prize following a battle at Troy. Annoyed, he seizes Briseis, the woman-trophy of Achilles, the Greeks’ star fighter. Achilles wails that it’s unfair, announces that he’s going home, and flounces off to his tent. Fine, replies Agamemnon. Go home, I never liked you anyway.
Most of us will never experience the frustration of having our human trophy confiscated by a king, but there are familiar aspects of Achilles’ plight. Like Achilles, you might be a sulker. You’ve probably had to deal with someone else’s sulk, too. But what is sulking, exactly? Why do we do it? And why does it have such a bad reputation?
Let’s zoom in on what sulking involves. Sulkers sulk when they feel wronged. Sometimes they really have been wronged, but sometimes they are just sour about losing fair and square. Take the former US president Donald Trump, who – with the COVID-19 pandemic raging around him – withdrew from public life following his 2020 election defeat and nurtured baseless conspiracy theories about how electoral fraud had cost him his rightful victory. Trump hadn’t been wronged, but that didn’t stop him sulking.
Next, a sulker deals with their feeling of being wronged by socially withdrawing. Achilles withdrew from fighting. Trump withdrew from his presidential duties. The rest of us may simply refuse to speak to whoever we feel wronged by. Socially withdrawing when we feel wronged isn’t always sulking, though. Two things are needed to turn withdrawal into a sulk. One is an element of punishment: a sulker intends their withdrawal to be inconvenient for their target – ie, the person(s) they’re sulking at – whether that’s by losing in battle (as Agamemnon did while Achilles sulked), being ravaged by disease (as the US public was while Trump sulked), or suffering the stress of the cold shoulder. Without an inconvenienced target, sulking is unsatisfying. There’s no point throwing a sulk at someone who doesn’t care about communicating with you.
The second thing needed to turn a withdrawal into sulk is – perhaps surprisingly – communication with the target. A successful sulk communicates to the target that the sulker is upset, that they resent the target for their being upset, and that it’s the target’s job to make things right.
Q. In the passage, who is used as an example of someone who sulked when they hadn't actually been wronged?
Directions: Kindly read the passage carefully and answer the questions given beside.
Homer’s Iliad opens with some epic ancient Greek sulking. Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks, is forced to return Chryseis, the woman he won as a prize following a battle at Troy. Annoyed, he seizes Briseis, the woman-trophy of Achilles, the Greeks’ star fighter. Achilles wails that it’s unfair, announces that he’s going home, and flounces off to his tent. Fine, replies Agamemnon. Go home, I never liked you anyway.
Most of us will never experience the frustration of having our human trophy confiscated by a king, but there are familiar aspects of Achilles’ plight. Like Achilles, you might be a sulker. You’ve probably had to deal with someone else’s sulk, too. But what is sulking, exactly? Why do we do it? And why does it have such a bad reputation?
Let’s zoom in on what sulking involves. Sulkers sulk when they feel wronged. Sometimes they really have been wronged, but sometimes they are just sour about losing fair and square. Take the former US president Donald Trump, who – with the COVID-19 pandemic raging around him – withdrew from public life following his 2020 election defeat and nurtured baseless conspiracy theories about how electoral fraud had cost him his rightful victory. Trump hadn’t been wronged, but that didn’t stop him sulking.
Next, a sulker deals with their feeling of being wronged by socially withdrawing. Achilles withdrew from fighting. Trump withdrew from his presidential duties. The rest of us may simply refuse to speak to whoever we feel wronged by. Socially withdrawing when we feel wronged isn’t always sulking, though. Two things are needed to turn withdrawal into a sulk. One is an element of punishment: a sulker intends their withdrawal to be inconvenient for their target – ie, the person(s) they’re sulking at – whether that’s by losing in battle (as Agamemnon did while Achilles sulked), being ravaged by disease (as the US public was while Trump sulked), or suffering the stress of the cold shoulder. Without an inconvenienced target, sulking is unsatisfying. There’s no point throwing a sulk at someone who doesn’t care about communicating with you.
The second thing needed to turn a withdrawal into sulk is – perhaps surprisingly – communication with the target. A successful sulk communicates to the target that the sulker is upset, that they resent the target for their being upset, and that it’s the target’s job to make things right.
Q. What is the primary purpose of sulking, as described in the passage?
Directions: Kindly read the passage carefully and answer the questions given beside.
Homer’s Iliad opens with some epic ancient Greek sulking. Agamemnon, leader of the Greeks, is forced to return Chryseis, the woman he won as a prize following a battle at Troy. Annoyed, he seizes Briseis, the woman-trophy of Achilles, the Greeks’ star fighter. Achilles wails that it’s unfair, announces that he’s going home, and flounces off to his tent. Fine, replies Agamemnon. Go home, I never liked you anyway.
Most of us will never experience the frustration of having our human trophy confiscated by a king, but there are familiar aspects of Achilles’ plight. Like Achilles, you might be a sulker. You’ve probably had to deal with someone else’s sulk, too. But what is sulking, exactly? Why do we do it? And why does it have such a bad reputation?
Let’s zoom in on what sulking involves. Sulkers sulk when they feel wronged. Sometimes they really have been wronged, but sometimes they are just sour about losing fair and square. Take the former US president Donald Trump, who – with the COVID-19 pandemic raging around him – withdrew from public life following his 2020 election defeat and nurtured baseless conspiracy theories about how electoral fraud had cost him his rightful victory. Trump hadn’t been wronged, but that didn’t stop him sulking.
Next, a sulker deals with their feeling of being wronged by socially withdrawing. Achilles withdrew from fighting. Trump withdrew from his presidential duties. The rest of us may simply refuse to speak to whoever we feel wronged by. Socially withdrawing when we feel wronged isn’t always sulking, though. Two things are needed to turn withdrawal into a sulk. One is an element of punishment: a sulker intends their withdrawal to be inconvenient for their target – ie, the person(s) they’re sulking at – whether that’s by losing in battle (as Agamemnon did while Achilles sulked), being ravaged by disease (as the US public was while Trump sulked), or suffering the stress of the cold shoulder. Without an inconvenienced target, sulking is unsatisfying. There’s no point throwing a sulk at someone who doesn’t care about communicating with you.
The second thing needed to turn a withdrawal into sulk is – perhaps surprisingly – communication with the target. A successful sulk communicates to the target that the sulker is upset, that they resent the target for their being upset, and that it’s the target’s job to make things right.
Q. According to the passage, what does a sulker typically do when they feel wronged?
Directions: Kindly read the passage carefully and answer the questions given beside.
There are a number of consumer-centric industries in India that have developed into duopolies. In many of them, the government is directly or indirectly breaking the hold of the top two companies. What is even more welcome is that it is doing this by empowering new entrants rather than laying constraints on incumbent giants. An emerging yet effective tool towards this is the Open Network for Digital Commerce, or ONDC.
Formal duopolies–where two companies control all of the supply in a market–won’t be created thanks to the vigilance of the Competition Commission of India. However, there are industries such as transport, telecom, e-commerce, and other highly consumer-focussed sectors where two companies are currently acquiring overwhelming market share.
This is not unexpected. Indeed, it’s not even unwelcome. India needs big companies in each sector. This is why the government’s approach — to empower other, smaller entrants rather than clip the wings of the giants — is a welcome one.
Two of the most visible sectors, as far as customers are concerned, are food delivery and e-commerce. While Swiggy and Zomato dominate the former, Amazon and Flipkart rule the latter. Food delivery and e-commerce are prime examples of sectors where the government has indirectly created a mechanism to break the dominance of the two incumbents. The ONDC platform, set up in December last year by the Ministry of Commerce and Industry, allows sellers and buyers to directly communicate with each other. Recently, ONDC has been creating waves by gradually emerging as an alternative to Swiggy and Zomato in the food delivery space.
The dominance of these two food delivery apps, and the fact that they use their own delivery drivers, has allowed them to impose high commissions on restaurants using their platforms, something that the restaurant owners have been protesting against. And while several restaurants in India’s metros opted out of these platforms, they eventually returned for the extensive reach and accessibility offered by these two platforms.
ONDC, although still nascent, can be a potential alternative for restaurants in bypassing the food delivery apps. Restaurants will have to organise their own delivery, but the ONDC facilitates this as well. And the restaurants are free to negotiate better deals with companies like Dunzo, Shiprocket, or Loadshare that can deliver the food for them. If this takes off, it could also increase competition in the delivery space as well, further allowing restaurants to negotiate more effectively. In all of this, customers stand to benefit.
The ONDC platform stands to do the same for the e-commerce space as well. At the moment, a consumer looking for a product on Amazon or Flipkart can choose from only those items that are available on these platforms. Once ONDC is adopted widely, consumers will have access to products across platforms, thereby giving them more choice in terms of products as well as prices.
Amazon and Flipkart haven’t signed on to ONDC yet, but there is considerable unofficial pressure from the government to join.
Q. What is the primary objective of the Open Network for Digital Commerce (ONDC)?
Directions: Kindly read the passage carefully and answer the questions given beside.
There are a number of consumer-centric industries in India that have developed into duopolies. In many of them, the government is directly or indirectly breaking the hold of the top two companies. What is even more welcome is that it is doing this by empowering new entrants rather than laying constraints on incumbent giants. An emerging yet effective tool towards this is the Open Network for Digital Commerce, or ONDC.
Formal duopolies–where two companies control all of the supply in a market–won’t be created thanks to the vigilance of the Competition Commission of India. However, there are industries such as transport, telecom, e-commerce, and other highly consumer-focussed sectors where two companies are currently acquiring overwhelming market share.
This is not unexpected. Indeed, it’s not even unwelcome. India needs big companies in each sector. This is why the government’s approach — to empower other, smaller entrants rather than clip the wings of the giants — is a welcome one.
Two of the most visible sectors, as far as customers are concerned, are food delivery and e-commerce. While Swiggy and Zomato dominate the former, Amazon and Flipkart rule the latter. Food delivery and e-commerce are prime examples of sectors where the government has indirectly created a mechanism to break the dominance of the two incumbents. The ONDC platform, set up in December last year by the Ministry of Commerce and Industry, allows sellers and buyers to directly communicate with each other. Recently, ONDC has been creating waves by gradually emerging as an alternative to Swiggy and Zomato in the food delivery space.
The dominance of these two food delivery apps, and the fact that they use their own delivery drivers, has allowed them to impose high commissions on restaurants using their platforms, something that the restaurant owners have been protesting against. And while several restaurants in India’s metros opted out of these platforms, they eventually returned for the extensive reach and accessibility offered by these two platforms.
ONDC, although still nascent, can be a potential alternative for restaurants in bypassing the food delivery apps. Restaurants will have to organise their own delivery, but the ONDC facilitates this as well. And the restaurants are free to negotiate better deals with companies like Dunzo, Shiprocket, or Loadshare that can deliver the food for them. If this takes off, it could also increase competition in the delivery space as well, further allowing restaurants to negotiate more effectively. In all of this, customers stand to benefit.
The ONDC platform stands to do the same for the e-commerce space as well. At the moment, a consumer looking for a product on Amazon or Flipkart can choose from only those items that are available on these platforms. Once ONDC is adopted widely, consumers will have access to products across platforms, thereby giving them more choice in terms of products as well as prices.
Amazon and Flipkart haven’t signed on to ONDC yet, but there is considerable unofficial pressure from the government to join.
Q. According to the passage, why does the government want to empower smaller entrants rather than clip the wings of giants in various sectors?
Directions: Kindly read the passage carefully and answer the questions given beside.
There are a number of consumer-centric industries in India that have developed into duopolies. In many of them, the government is directly or indirectly breaking the hold of the top two companies. What is even more welcome is that it is doing this by empowering new entrants rather than laying constraints on incumbent giants. An emerging yet effective tool towards this is the Open Network for Digital Commerce, or ONDC.
Formal duopolies–where two companies control all of the supply in a market–won’t be created thanks to the vigilance of the Competition Commission of India. However, there are industries such as transport, telecom, e-commerce, and other highly consumer-focussed sectors where two companies are currently acquiring overwhelming market share.
This is not unexpected. Indeed, it’s not even unwelcome. India needs big companies in each sector. This is why the government’s approach — to empower other, smaller entrants rather than clip the wings of the giants — is a welcome one.
Two of the most visible sectors, as far as customers are concerned, are food delivery and e-commerce. While Swiggy and Zomato dominate the former, Amazon and Flipkart rule the latter. Food delivery and e-commerce are prime examples of sectors where the government has indirectly created a mechanism to break the dominance of the two incumbents. The ONDC platform, set up in December last year by the Ministry of Commerce and Industry, allows sellers and buyers to directly communicate with each other. Recently, ONDC has been creating waves by gradually emerging as an alternative to Swiggy and Zomato in the food delivery space.
The dominance of these two food delivery apps, and the fact that they use their own delivery drivers, has allowed them to impose high commissions on restaurants using their platforms, something that the restaurant owners have been protesting against. And while several restaurants in India’s metros opted out of these platforms, they eventually returned for the extensive reach and accessibility offered by these two platforms.
ONDC, although still nascent, can be a potential alternative for restaurants in bypassing the food delivery apps. Restaurants will have to organise their own delivery, but the ONDC facilitates this as well. And the restaurants are free to negotiate better deals with companies like Dunzo, Shiprocket, or Loadshare that can deliver the food for them. If this takes off, it could also increase competition in the delivery space as well, further allowing restaurants to negotiate more effectively. In all of this, customers stand to benefit.
The ONDC platform stands to do the same for the e-commerce space as well. At the moment, a consumer looking for a product on Amazon or Flipkart can choose from only those items that are available on these platforms. Once ONDC is adopted widely, consumers will have access to products across platforms, thereby giving them more choice in terms of products as well as prices.
Amazon and Flipkart haven’t signed on to ONDC yet, but there is considerable unofficial pressure from the government to join.
Q. What is the main issue faced by restaurants with food delivery apps like Swiggy and Zomato, as mentioned in the passage?
Directions: Kindly read the passage carefully and answer the questions given beside.
There are a number of consumer-centric industries in India that have developed into duopolies. In many of them, the government is directly or indirectly breaking the hold of the top two companies. What is even more welcome is that it is doing this by empowering new entrants rather than laying constraints on incumbent giants. An emerging yet effective tool towards this is the Open Network for Digital Commerce, or ONDC.
Formal duopolies–where two companies control all of the supply in a market–won’t be created thanks to the vigilance of the Competition Commission of India. However, there are industries such as transport, telecom, e-commerce, and other highly consumer-focussed sectors where two companies are currently acquiring overwhelming market share.
This is not unexpected. Indeed, it’s not even unwelcome. India needs big companies in each sector. This is why the government’s approach — to empower other, smaller entrants rather than clip the wings of the giants — is a welcome one.
Two of the most visible sectors, as far as customers are concerned, are food delivery and e-commerce. While Swiggy and Zomato dominate the former, Amazon and Flipkart rule the latter. Food delivery and e-commerce are prime examples of sectors where the government has indirectly created a mechanism to break the dominance of the two incumbents. The ONDC platform, set up in December last year by the Ministry of Commerce and Industry, allows sellers and buyers to directly communicate with each other. Recently, ONDC has been creating waves by gradually emerging as an alternative to Swiggy and Zomato in the food delivery space.
The dominance of these two food delivery apps, and the fact that they use their own delivery drivers, has allowed them to impose high commissions on restaurants using their platforms, something that the restaurant owners have been protesting against. And while several restaurants in India’s metros opted out of these platforms, they eventually returned for the extensive reach and accessibility offered by these two platforms.
ONDC, although still nascent, can be a potential alternative for restaurants in bypassing the food delivery apps. Restaurants will have to organise their own delivery, but the ONDC facilitates this as well. And the restaurants are free to negotiate better deals with companies like Dunzo, Shiprocket, or Loadshare that can deliver the food for them. If this takes off, it could also increase competition in the delivery space as well, further allowing restaurants to negotiate more effectively. In all of this, customers stand to benefit.
The ONDC platform stands to do the same for the e-commerce space as well. At the moment, a consumer looking for a product on Amazon or Flipkart can choose from only those items that are available on these platforms. Once ONDC is adopted widely, consumers will have access to products across platforms, thereby giving them more choice in terms of products as well as prices.
Amazon and Flipkart haven’t signed on to ONDC yet, but there is considerable unofficial pressure from the government to join.
Q. How does ONDC potentially benefit consumers in the e-commerce space?
Directions: Kindly read the passage carefully and answer the questions given beside.
There are a number of consumer-centric industries in India that have developed into duopolies. In many of them, the government is directly or indirectly breaking the hold of the top two companies. What is even more welcome is that it is doing this by empowering new entrants rather than laying constraints on incumbent giants. An emerging yet effective tool towards this is the Open Network for Digital Commerce, or ONDC.
Formal duopolies–where two companies control all of the supply in a market–won’t be created thanks to the vigilance of the Competition Commission of India. However, there are industries such as transport, telecom, e-commerce, and other highly consumer-focussed sectors where two companies are currently acquiring overwhelming market share.
This is not unexpected. Indeed, it’s not even unwelcome. India needs big companies in each sector. This is why the government’s approach — to empower other, smaller entrants rather than clip the wings of the giants — is a welcome one.
Two of the most visible sectors, as far as customers are concerned, are food delivery and e-commerce. While Swiggy and Zomato dominate the former, Amazon and Flipkart rule the latter. Food delivery and e-commerce are prime examples of sectors where the government has indirectly created a mechanism to break the dominance of the two incumbents. The ONDC platform, set up in December last year by the Ministry of Commerce and Industry, allows sellers and buyers to directly communicate with each other. Recently, ONDC has been creating waves by gradually emerging as an alternative to Swiggy and Zomato in the food delivery space.
The dominance of these two food delivery apps, and the fact that they use their own delivery drivers, has allowed them to impose high commissions on restaurants using their platforms, something that the restaurant owners have been protesting against. And while several restaurants in India’s metros opted out of these platforms, they eventually returned for the extensive reach and accessibility offered by these two platforms.
ONDC, although still nascent, can be a potential alternative for restaurants in bypassing the food delivery apps. Restaurants will have to organise their own delivery, but the ONDC facilitates this as well. And the restaurants are free to negotiate better deals with companies like Dunzo, Shiprocket, or Loadshare that can deliver the food for them. If this takes off, it could also increase competition in the delivery space as well, further allowing restaurants to negotiate more effectively. In all of this, customers stand to benefit.
The ONDC platform stands to do the same for the e-commerce space as well. At the moment, a consumer looking for a product on Amazon or Flipkart can choose from only those items that are available on these platforms. Once ONDC is adopted widely, consumers will have access to products across platforms, thereby giving them more choice in terms of products as well as prices.
Amazon and Flipkart haven’t signed on to ONDC yet, but there is considerable unofficial pressure from the government to join.
Q. Why is there unofficial pressure on Amazon and Flipkart to join ONDC, according to the passage?
Directions: Study the following information carefully and answer the questions given beside.
The Indian Contract Act, 1872 is important legislation in the field of commercial law in India. It is basically responsible for regulating contractual relationships and obligations. A common legal complexity often arises when an agreement with minor parties takes place. This is problematic because the Act does not permit such agreements outrightly.
A. A minor is a person who is below the age of eighteen. However, where a guardian administers the minor’s property, the age of majority is twenty-one.
B. A minor is not permitted by law to enter into a contract. Hence, where a minor enters into a contract with a major person, the contract is not enforceable. This effectively means that neither the minor nor the other party can make any claim on the basis of the contract.
C. In a contract with a minor, if the other party hands over any money or confers any other benefit on the minor, the same shall not be recoverable from the minor unless the other party was deceived by the minor to hand over money or any other benefit. The other party will have to show that the minor misrepresented her age, he was ignorant about the age of the minor and that he handed over the benefit on the basis of such representation.
Q. What is the primary purpose of the Indian Contract Act, 1872?
Directions: Study the following information carefully and answer the questions given beside.
The Indian Contract Act, 1872 is important legislation in the field of commercial law in India. It is basically responsible for regulating contractual relationships and obligations. A common legal complexity often arises when an agreement with minor parties takes place. This is problematic because the Act does not permit such agreements outrightly.
A. A minor is a person who is below the age of eighteen. However, where a guardian administers the minor’s property, the age of majority is twenty-one.
B. A minor is not permitted by law to enter into a contract. Hence, where a minor enters into a contract with a major person, the contract is not enforceable. This effectively means that neither the minor nor the other party can make any claim on the basis of the contract.
C. In a contract with a minor, if the other party hands over any money or confers any other benefit on the minor, the same shall not be recoverable from the minor unless the other party was deceived by the minor to hand over money or any other benefit. The other party will have to show that the minor misrepresented her age, he was ignorant about the age of the minor and that he handed over the benefit on the basis of such representation.
Q. According to the passage, what is the age of majority for a minor when a guardian administers their property?
Directions: Study the following information carefully and answer the questions given beside.
The Indian Contract Act, 1872 is important legislation in the field of commercial law in India. It is basically responsible for regulating contractual relationships and obligations. A common legal complexity often arises when an agreement with minor parties takes place. This is problematic because the Act does not permit such agreements outrightly.
A. A minor is a person who is below the age of eighteen. However, where a guardian administers the minor’s property, the age of majority is twenty-one.
B. A minor is not permitted by law to enter into a contract. Hence, where a minor enters into a contract with a major person, the contract is not enforceable. This effectively means that neither the minor nor the other party can make any claim on the basis of the contract.
C. In a contract with a minor, if the other party hands over any money or confers any other benefit on the minor, the same shall not be recoverable from the minor unless the other party was deceived by the minor to hand over money or any other benefit. The other party will have to show that the minor misrepresented her age, he was ignorant about the age of the minor and that he handed over the benefit on the basis of such representation.
Q. What is the legal consequence when a minor enters into a contract with a major person, as per the passage?
Directions: Study the following information carefully and answer the questions given beside.
The Indian Contract Act, 1872 is important legislation in the field of commercial law in India. It is basically responsible for regulating contractual relationships and obligations. A common legal complexity often arises when an agreement with minor parties takes place. This is problematic because the Act does not permit such agreements outrightly.
A. A minor is a person who is below the age of eighteen. However, where a guardian administers the minor’s property, the age of majority is twenty-one.
B. A minor is not permitted by law to enter into a contract. Hence, where a minor enters into a contract with a major person, the contract is not enforceable. This effectively means that neither the minor nor the other party can make any claim on the basis of the contract.
C. In a contract with a minor, if the other party hands over any money or confers any other benefit on the minor, the same shall not be recoverable from the minor unless the other party was deceived by the minor to hand over money or any other benefit. The other party will have to show that the minor misrepresented her age, he was ignorant about the age of the minor and that he handed over the benefit on the basis of such representation.
Q. Under what circumstances can money or benefits handed over to a minor in a contract be recoverable from the minor, as per the passage?
Directions: Study the following information carefully and answer the questions given beside.
The Indian Contract Act, 1872 is important legislation in the field of commercial law in India. It is basically responsible for regulating contractual relationships and obligations. A common legal complexity often arises when an agreement with minor parties takes place. This is problematic because the Act does not permit such agreements outrightly.
A. A minor is a person who is below the age of eighteen. However, where a guardian administers the minor’s property, the age of majority is twenty-one.
B. A minor is not permitted by law to enter into a contract. Hence, where a minor enters into a contract with a major person, the contract is not enforceable. This effectively means that neither the minor nor the other party can make any claim on the basis of the contract.
C. In a contract with a minor, if the other party hands over any money or confers any other benefit on the minor, the same shall not be recoverable from the minor unless the other party was deceived by the minor to hand over money or any other benefit. The other party will have to show that the minor misrepresented her age, he was ignorant about the age of the minor and that he handed over the benefit on the basis of such representation.
Q. What does the passage require the other party to demonstrate to recover money or benefits handed over to a minor in a contract?