CAT Practice Test - 16 - CAT MCQ

Arrange statements 1-5 given below in a logical sequence in order to form a coherent paragraph. Your answer will be the order of statement numbers that forms this logical sequence e.g. 23514.

1. Often it was found on its knees when the rider would expect it the least.
2. As the horse that was borrowed by Mr Adams from his clerk had a violent tendency to kneel without giving any notice of his intention to do so.
3. However, this eccentricity was of little consequence to Mr Adams as he was well acquainted with it.
4. No sooner did the coach stop at the inn, Mr. Adams, according to his custom, threw himself into the kitchen and found Joe sitting by the fireplace, and the host attending to his bruised leg.
5. Since his legs nearly touched the land when he rode the horse, he had fewer chances to fall and pushed himself forward during such occasions so brilliantly that he by no means suffered any accident.

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer to each question.

Pieces of music, or performances of them, are usually said to be happy, sad, and so on. Music's emotional expressivity is a philosophical problem since the paradigm expressers of emotions are psychological agents, who have emotions to express. Neither pieces of music, nor performances of them, are psychological agents, thus it is puzzling that such things could be said to express emotions. One immediately helpful distinction is that between expression and expressivity, or expressiveness. Expression is something persons do, namely, the outward manifestation of their emotional states. Expressivity is something artworks, and possibly other things, possess. It is presumably related in some way to expression, and yet cannot simply be expression for the reason just given. Most theorists also distinguish between expressivity and representation, claiming that music is expressive of emotions, rather than representing them. To give a non-musical example, one might paint a person crying, yet do so in a clinical style such that the painting represents the person's sadness, yet is itself not a sad painting, that is, expressive of sadness, but rather a cool, detached one. The emotions in a piece of music are thus, more closely tied to it than mere descriptions of emotional states.

An obvious way to connect expressivity with expression is to argue that pieces of music or performances of them are expressions of emotion - not the piece's or performance's emotions, but rather those of the composer or performer. There are two major problems with this ‘expression theory’. The first is that neither composers nor performers often experience the emotions their music is expressive of as it is produced. Nor does it seem unlikely that a composer could create, or a performer perform, a piece expressive of an emotion that she had never experienced. This is not to deny that a composer could write a piece expressive of her emotional state, but two things must be observed. The first is that for the expression theory to be an account of musical expressivity, at least all central cases of expressivity must follow this model, which is not the case. The second is that if a composer is to express her sadness, say, by writing a sad piece, she must write the right kind of piece. In other words, if she is a bad composer she might fail to express her emotion. This brings us to the second major problem for the expression theory. If a composer can fail to express her emotions in a piece, then the music she writes is expressive independently of the emotion she is experiencing. Thus, music's expressivity cannot be explained in terms of direct expression.

Q. In the context of this passage, “musical expressivity” describes to all of the following except   

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer to each question.

Pieces of music, or performances of them, are usually said to be happy, sad, and so on. Music's emotional expressivity is a philosophical problem since the paradigm expressers of emotions are psychological agents, who have emotions to express. Neither pieces of music, nor performances of them, are psychological agents, thus it is puzzling that such things could be said to express emotions. One immediately helpful distinction is that between expression and expressivity, or expressiveness. Expression is something persons do, namely, the outward manifestation of their emotional states. Expressivity is something artworks, and possibly other things, possess. It is presumably related in some way to expression, and yet cannot simply be expression for the reason just given. Most theorists also distinguish between expressivity and representation, claiming that music is expressive of emotions, rather than representing them. To give a non-musical example, one might paint a person crying, yet do so in a clinical style such that the painting represents the person's sadness, yet is itself not a sad painting, that is, expressive of sadness, but rather a cool, detached one. The emotions in a piece of music are thus, more closely tied to it than mere descriptions of emotional states.

An obvious way to connect expressivity with expression is to argue that pieces of music or performances of them are expressions of emotion - not the piece's or performance's emotions, but rather those of the composer or performer. There are two major problems with this ‘expression theory’. The first is that neither composers nor performers often experience the emotions their music is expressive of as it is produced. Nor does it seem unlikely that a composer could create, or a performer perform, a piece expressive of an emotion that she had never experienced. This is not to deny that a composer could write a piece expressive of her emotional state, but two things must be observed. The first is that for the expression theory to be an account of musical expressivity, at least all central cases of expressivity must follow this model, which is not the case. The second is that if a composer is to express her sadness, say, by writing a sad piece, she must write the right kind of piece. In other words, if she is a bad composer she might fail to express her emotion. This brings us to the second major problem for the expression theory. If a composer can fail to express her emotions in a piece, then the music she writes is expressive independently of the emotion she is experiencing. Thus, music's expressivity cannot be explained in terms of direct expression.

Q. Which of the following examples represents emotions instead of expressing them?

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer to each question.

Pieces of music, or performances of them, are usually said to be happy, sad, and so on. Music's emotional expressivity is a philosophical problem since the paradigm expressers of emotions are psychological agents, who have emotions to express. Neither pieces of music, nor performances of them, are psychological agents, thus it is puzzling that such things could be said to express emotions. One immediately helpful distinction is that between expression and expressivity, or expressiveness. Expression is something persons do, namely, the outward manifestation of their emotional states. Expressivity is something artworks, and possibly other things, possess. It is presumably related in some way to expression, and yet cannot simply be expression for the reason just given. Most theorists also distinguish between expressivity and representation, claiming that music is expressive of emotions, rather than representing them. To give a non-musical example, one might paint a person crying, yet do so in a clinical style such that the painting represents the person's sadness, yet is itself not a sad painting, that is, expressive of sadness, but rather a cool, detached one. The emotions in a piece of music are thus, more closely tied to it than mere descriptions of emotional states.

An obvious way to connect expressivity with expression is to argue that pieces of music or performances of them are expressions of emotion - not the piece's or performance's emotions, but rather those of the composer or performer. There are two major problems with this ‘expression theory’. The first is that neither composers nor performers often experience the emotions their music is expressive of as it is produced. Nor does it seem unlikely that a composer could create, or a performer perform, a piece expressive of an emotion that she had never experienced. This is not to deny that a composer could write a piece expressive of her emotional state, but two things must be observed. The first is that for the expression theory to be an account of musical expressivity, at least all central cases of expressivity must follow this model, which is not the case. The second is that if a composer is to express her sadness, say, by writing a sad piece, she must write the right kind of piece. In other words, if she is a bad composer she might fail to express her emotion. This brings us to the second major problem for the expression theory. If a composer can fail to express her emotions in a piece, then the music she writes is expressive independently of the emotion she is experiencing. Thus, music's expressivity cannot be explained in terms of direct expression.

Q. Which of the following is untrue about a piece of music?  

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer to each question.

Jane Austen, one of the most admired English writers of all time, died in 1817. Although she lived two centuries ago, the society she depicts in her novels is surprisingly familiar. Every few years, distinguished British actors squeeze themselves into breeches and ball gowns for yet another televised adaptation of one of Austen’s stories. We take an imaginary tour through a few decorous Georgian balls and tea parties, then return to modern life. However, new records aim to challenge our comfortable view of Jane Austen’s England. Historians Roy and Lesley Adkins turn their attention away from the respectable world of polite society that appears in Austen’s novels and instead, try to uncover a little of what life was really like at the turn of the 19th Century.
What emerges is a world much less civilised than we imagine - one in which children toiled in coal mines or up chimneys; in which men could be dragged away to serve in rat-infested navy ships, or to fight the brutal battles of the long Napoleonic War; in which the wives and daughters of the poor could be sold in marketplaces like cattle. The streets of this world were so thick with horse dung - and sometimes human too - that in some towns there were special street sweepers who would scrape a path across the road for you, for a fee. Out of town, travelers on highways would sometimes be subjected to the sight of an executed criminal, swinging on a gibbet. Those who received a normal burial were not safe either: London cemeteries were plagued by grave-robbers, who supplied fresh corpses to surgeons for dissection. Even upper-class life was not immune from squalor. Personal sanitation in Jane Austen’s time was not up to modern standards. Piped hot water was an unheard-of luxury; mass-produced soap was a recent innovation; ‘shampoo’ was a mystery of the Far East and deodorant was nonexistent. Lack of toothpaste would very likely have given Mr. Darcy - along with the rest of Austen’s romantic leads- terrible bad breath. When teeth decayed, the rich paid to have them replaced with fresh ones plucked from corpses.

Q. Which of the following is one not likely to find in one of Jane Austen's novels? 

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer to each question.

Jane Austen, one of the most admired English writers of all time, died in 1817. Although she lived two centuries ago, the society she depicts in her novels is surprisingly familiar. Every few years, distinguished British actors squeeze themselves into breeches and ball gowns for yet another televised adaptation of one of Austen’s stories. We take an imaginary tour through a few decorous Georgian balls and tea parties, then return to modern life.
However, new records aim to challenge our comfortable view of Jane Austen’s England. Historians Roy and Lesley Adkins turn their attention away from the respectable world of polite society that appears in Austen’s novels and instead, try to uncover a little of what life was really like at the turn of the 19th Century.

What emerges is a world much less civilised than we imagine - one in which children toiled in coal mines or up chimneys; in which men could be dragged away to serve in rat-infested navy ships, or to fight the brutal battles of the long Napoleonic War; in which the wives and daughters of the poor could be sold in marketplaces like cattle. The streets of this world were so thick with horse dung - and sometimes human too - that in some towns there were special street sweepers who would scrape a path across the road for you, for a fee. Out of town, travellers on highways would sometimes be subjected to the sight of an executed criminal, swinging on a gibbet. Those who received a normal burial were not safe either: London cemeteries were plagued by grave-robbers, who supplied fresh corpses to surgeons for dissection. Even upper-class life was not immune from squalor. Personal sanitation in Jane Austen’s time was not up to modern standards. Piped hot water was an unheard-of luxury; mass-produced soap was a recent innovation; ‘shampoo’ was a mystery of the Far East and deodorant was nonexistent. Lack of toothpaste would very likely have given Mr Darcy - along with the rest of Austen’s romantic leads- terrible bad breath. When teeth decayed, the rich paid to have them replaced with fresh ones plucked from corpses.

Q. Which of the following is the author of this passage most likely to disagree with about 19th century England?

The passage given below is followed by a set of questions. Choose the most appropriate answer to each question.

Jane Austen, one of the most admired English writers of all time, died in 1817. Although she lived two centuries ago, the society she depicts in her novels is surprisingly familiar. Every few years, distinguished British actors squeeze themselves into breeches and ball gowns for yet another televised adaptation of one of Austen’s stories. We take an imaginary tour through a few decorous Georgian balls and tea parties, then return to modern life.
However, new records aim to challenge our comfortable view of Jane Austen’s England. Historians Roy and Lesley Adkins turn their attention away from the respectable world of polite society that appears in Austen’s novels and instead, try to uncover a little of what life was really like at the turn of the 19th Century.

What emerges is a world much less civilised than we imagine - one in which children toiled in coal mines or up chimneys; in which men could be dragged away to serve in rat-infested navy ships, or to fight the brutal battles of the long Napoleonic War; in which the wives and daughters of the poor could be sold in marketplaces like cattle. The streets of this world were so thick with horse dung - and sometimes human too - that in some towns there were special street sweepers who would scrape a path across the road for you, for a fee. Out of town, travellers on highways would sometimes be subjected to the sight of an executed criminal, swinging on a gibbet. Those who received a normal burial were not safe either: London cemeteries were plagued by grave-robbers, who supplied fresh corpses to surgeons for dissection. Even upper-class life was not immune from squalor. Personal sanitation in Jane Austen’s time was not up to modern standards. Piped hot water was an unheard-of luxury; mass-produced soap was a recent innovation; ‘shampoo’ was a mystery of the Far East and deodorant was nonexistent. Lack of toothpaste would very likely have given Mr Darcy - along with the rest of Austen’s romantic leads- terrible bad breath. When teeth decayed, the rich paid to have them replaced with fresh ones plucked from corpses.

Q. Which of the following best represents the tone of the author towards Jane Austen's works?

Answer the following question based on the information given below.

There’s a poster on the wall of the gym I use, a place frequented by many aspiring British athletes. It says simply: “You lose 100% of the chances you don’t take.” No one likes to be rejected, to take a chance, to put in huge effort only to be rebuffed. But if you want to succeed at anything in life, you have to put yourself forward. You have to take the chance that you’ll be rejected.

There’s no choice - what it says on that poster is absolutely right. The alternative is to be 100% certain you’ll never realise your dreams.

It’s one thing to understand why you feel bad when you’ve been rejected. But why stop there? Why not take things a step further? Instead of thinking about rejection as something you hope to avoid, see if you can make it work for you rather than distress you. When you do this, rejection will actually help you create something even better than the offering that’s been cast aside. Here’s how.
Learning through failure is how rejection helps. It can spur you on to do it again, do it better.

Start by learning not to take a rejection personally. Instead of saying, “What’s wrong with me?”, step back. See if you can figure out what might be lacking in what you’ve created, or in the way you’ve gone about trying to achieve your dream. The artist Dexter Dalwood, speaking recently to creative arts students at their graduation ceremony, warned his audience: “If you want your ideas to succeed, be prepared to be rejected. Often, It comes with the territory.”

Anders Ericsson, a professor at the University of Colorado, observed the practice habits of violin students in Berlin from the age of five until they reached adulthood. He found that the most powerful predictor of success, of whether students became “elite” violinists, was how many hours of practice they put in and how determined they were to improve. The author Malcolm Gladwell popularised this idea, which has become known as the “10,000-hour rule”. It seems that it takes approximately 10,000 hours of dedication, of being criticised and reacting constructively to that criticism, to succeed and achieve true excellence.

Q. A thought like “What’s wrong with me?” implies that: 

A. You are reflecting on reasons for your rejection.

B. You are learning through failure.

C. You are open to feedback.   

Answer the following question based on the information given below.

There’s a poster on the wall of the gym I use, a place frequented by many aspiring British athletes. It says simply: “You lose 100% of the chances you don’t take.” No one likes to be rejected, to take a chance, to put in huge effort only to be rebuffed. But if you want to succeed at anything in life, you have to put yourself forward. You have to take the chance that you’ll be rejected.

There’s no choice - what it says on that poster is absolutely right. The alternative is to be 100% certain you’ll never realise your dreams.

It’s one thing to understand why you feel bad when you’ve been rejected. But why stop there? Why not take things a step further? Instead of thinking about rejection as something you hope to avoid, see if you can make it work for you rather than distress you. When you do this, rejection will actually help you create something even better than the offering that’s been cast aside. Here’s how. Learning through failure is how rejection helps. It can spur you on to do it again, do it better.

Start by learning not to take a rejection personally. Instead of saying, “What’s wrong with me?”, step back. See if you can figure out what might be lacking in what you’ve created, or in the way you’ve gone about trying to achieve your dream. The artist Dexter Dalwood, speaking recently to creative arts students at their graduation ceremony, warned his audience: “If you want your ideas to succeed, be prepared to be rejected. Often, It comes with the territory.”

Anders Ericsson, a professor at the University of Colorado, observed the practice habits of violin students in Berlin from the age of five until they reached adulthood. He found that the most powerful predictor of success, of whether students became “elite” violinists, was how many hours of practice they put in and how determined they were to improve. The author Malcolm Gladwell popularised this idea, which has become known as the “10,000-hour rule”. It seems that it takes approximately 10,000 hours of dedication, of being criticised and reacting constructively to that criticism, to succeed and achieve true excellence.

Q. Which of the following would be an example of the “10,000-hour rule” ?

Answer the following question based on the information given below.

There’s a poster on the wall of the gym I use, a place frequented by many aspiring British athletes. It says simply: “You lose 100% of the chances you don’t take.” No one likes to be rejected, to take a chance, to put in huge effort only to be rebuffed. But if you want to succeed at anything in life, you have to put yourself forward. You have to take the chance that you’ll be rejected.

There’s no choice - what it says on that poster is absolutely right. The alternative is to be 100% certain you’ll never realise your dreams.

It’s one thing to understand why you feel bad when you’ve been rejected. But why stop there? Why not take things a step further? Instead of thinking about rejection as something you hope to avoid, see if you can make it work for you rather than distress you. When you do this, rejection will actually help you create something even better than the offering that’s been cast aside. Here’s how. Learning through failure is how rejection helps. It can spur you on to do it again, do it better.

Start by learning not to take a rejection personally. Instead of saying, “What’s wrong with me?”, step back. See if you can figure out what might be lacking in what you’ve created, or in the way you’ve gone about trying to achieve your dream. The artist Dexter Dalwood, speaking recently to creative arts students at their graduation ceremony, warned his audience: “If you want your ideas to succeed, be prepared to be rejected. Often, It comes with the territory.”

Anders Ericsson, a professor at the University of Colorado, observed the practice habits of violin students in Berlin from the age of five until they reached adulthood. He found that the most powerful predictor of success, of whether students became “elite” violinists, was how many hours of practice they put in and how determined they were to improve. The author Malcolm Gladwell popularised this idea, which has become known as the “10,000-hour rule”. It seems that it takes approximately 10,000 hours of dedication, of being criticised and reacting constructively to that criticism, to succeed and achieve true excellence.

Q. What can be a valid assumption from Dexter Dalwood’s words “If you want your ideas to succeed, be prepared to be rejected. Often, It comes with the territory.” ? 

Answer the following question based on the information given below.

There’s a poster on the wall of the gym I use, a place frequented by many aspiring British athletes. It says simply: “You lose 100% of the chances you don’t take.” No one likes to be rejected, to take a chance, to put in huge effort only to be rebuffed. But if you want to succeed at anything in life, you have to put yourself forward. You have to take the chance that you’ll be rejected.

There’s no choice - what it says on that poster is absolutely right. The alternative is to be 100% certain you’ll never realise your dreams.

It’s one thing to understand why you feel bad when you’ve been rejected. But why stop there? Why not take things a step further? Instead of thinking about rejection as something you hope to avoid, see if you can make it work for you rather than distress you. When you do this, rejection will actually help you create something even better than the offering that’s been cast aside. Here’s how. Learning through failure is how rejection helps. It can spur you on to do it again, do it better.

Start by learning not to take a rejection personally. Instead of saying, “What’s wrong with me?”, step back. See if you can figure out what might be lacking in what you’ve created, or in the way you’ve gone about trying to achieve your dream. The artist Dexter Dalwood, speaking recently to creative arts students at their graduation ceremony, warned his audience: “If you want your ideas to succeed, be prepared to be rejected. Often, It comes with the territory.”

Anders Ericsson, a professor at the University of Colorado, observed the practice habits of violin students in Berlin from the age of five until they reached adulthood. He found that the most powerful predictor of success, of whether students became “elite” violinists, was how many hours of practice they put in and how determined they were to improve. The author Malcolm Gladwell popularised this idea, which has become known as the “10,000-hour rule”. It seems that it takes approximately 10,000 hours of dedication, of being criticised and reacting constructively to that criticism, to succeed and achieve true excellence.

Q. According to the author, people do not realize their dreams because:

A. They do not take chances.

B. They do not have a choice.

C. They do not like rejection.

Answer the following question based on the information given below.

There’s a poster on the wall of the gym I use, a place frequented by many aspiring British athletes. It says simply: “You lose 100% of the chances you don’t take.” No one likes to be rejected, to take a chance, to put in huge effort only to be rebuffed. But if you want to succeed at anything in life, you have to put yourself forward. You have to take the chance that you’ll be rejected.

There’s no choice - what it says on that poster is absolutely right. The alternative is to be 100% certain you’ll never realise your dreams.

It’s one thing to understand why you feel bad when you’ve been rejected. But why stop there? Why not take things a step further? Instead of thinking about rejection as something you hope to avoid, see if you can make it work for you rather than distress you. When you do this, rejection will actually help you create something even better than the offering that’s been cast aside. Here’s how. Learning through failure is how rejection helps. It can spur you on to do it again, do it better.

Start by learning not to take a rejection personally. Instead of saying, “What’s wrong with me?”, step back. See if you can figure out what might be lacking in what you’ve created, or in the way you’ve gone about trying to achieve your dream. The artist Dexter Dalwood, speaking recently to creative arts students at their graduation ceremony, warned his audience: “If you want your ideas to succeed, be prepared to be rejected. Often, It comes with the territory.”

Anders Ericsson, a professor at the University of Colorado, observed the practice habits of violin students in Berlin from the age of five until they reached adulthood. He found that the most powerful predictor of success, of whether students became “elite” violinists, was how many hours of practice they put in and how determined they were to improve. The author Malcolm Gladwell popularised this idea, which has become known as the “10,000-hour rule”. It seems that it takes approximately 10,000 hours of dedication, of being criticised and reacting constructively to that criticism, to succeed and achieve true excellence.

Q. Which of these is not true about rejection?

Answer the following question based on the information given below.

There’s a poster on the wall of the gym I use, a place frequented by many aspiring British athletes. It says simply: “You lose 100% of the chances you don’t take.” No one likes to be rejected, to take a chance, to put in huge effort only to be rebuffed. But if you want to succeed at anything in life, you have to put yourself forward. You have to take the chance that you’ll be rejected.

There’s no choice - what it says on that poster is absolutely right. The alternative is to be 100% certain you’ll never realise your dreams.

It’s one thing to understand why you feel bad when you’ve been rejected. But why stop there? Why not take things a step further? Instead of thinking about rejection as something you hope to avoid, see if you can make it work for you rather than distress you. When you do this, rejection will actually help you create something even better than the offering that’s been cast aside. Here’s how. Learning through failure is how rejection helps. It can spur you on to do it again, do it better.

Start by learning not to take a rejection personally. Instead of saying, “What’s wrong with me?”, step back. See if you can figure out what might be lacking in what you’ve created, or in the way you’ve gone about trying to achieve your dream. The artist Dexter Dalwood, speaking recently to creative arts students at their graduation ceremony, warned his audience: “If you want your ideas to succeed, be prepared to be rejected. Often, It comes with the territory.”

Anders Ericsson, a professor at the University of Colorado, observed the practice habits of violin students in Berlin from the age of five until they reached adulthood. He found that the most powerful predictor of success, of whether students became “elite” violinists, was how many hours of practice they put in and how determined they were to improve. The author Malcolm Gladwell popularised this idea, which has become known as the “10,000-hour rule”. It seems that it takes approximately 10,000 hours of dedication, of being criticised and reacting constructively to that criticism, to succeed and achieve true excellence.

Q. The quote “You lose 100% of the chances you don’t take.” was Marks put in the gym to:

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Scholars and savants, sociologists and political scientists, across ages and across continents, have cautioned against rampant nationalism and its close cousin patriotism (famously described by Mark Twain as the “last refuge of a scoundrel”). But in country after country, from America to Europe to Asia, nationalistic fervor is all the rage, fuelled by everything from border disputes to sporting rivalry, from trade protectionism to cultural expansionism. The latest to join the list of triggers that spark patriotic and nationalistic outrage (always expressed loudly rather than quietly) terrorism.

Consider this: More than a million infants die every year of malnutrition and more than 100,000 youngsters are killed in road accidents every year in India — doesn’t evoke an iota of embarrassment from the nationalistic brigade. There are some 30,000 casualties from gun violence in the US every year, including more than 300 instances of mass shooting in 2015. No nationalistic outrage. Both are shrugged off. But a single terrorist attack, particularly if it comes from a perceived foreign source, can trigger a nationalistic outpouring that can dominate the media for days and weeks.

Every death is different, and indeed every terrorist attack is different, depending on its geography and its victims. While America and Europe fret about terrorist incidents in their territory, provoking nationalistic fury, there is little concern for terrorist attacks in distant India. Within India itself, a terrorist attack in Delhi or Mumbai has a different resonance from the one in Dantewada or Aizawl, which are outside national — and nationalistic — mainstream conscience. And no one cares for attacks in Africa, including within Africa itself: Burkina Faso, Mali, and Ivory Coast have all seen attacks as bloody and lethal as the ones in Brussels and San Bernardino without getting a fraction of the coverage. 

All this is broadly in tune with the first principles of patriotism (when love of your people comes first) and nationalism (when hate for people other than your own comes first). The difference between patriotism and nationalism, explained the late American columnist Sydney Harris, is that the patriot is proud of his country for what it does, and the nationalist is proud of his country no matter what it does. The first attitude creates a feeling of responsibility, but the second a feeling of blind arrogance that often leads to war, as has been demonstrated again and again in history. 

Q. According to Sydney Harris patriotism is being proud of one’s country for what it does. Which of the following would strengthen this argument?   

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Scholars and savants, sociologists and political scientists, across ages and across continents, have cautioned against rampant nationalism and its close cousin patriotism (famously described by Mark Twain as the “last refuge of a scoundrel”). But in country after country, from America to Europe to Asia, nationalistic fervor is all the rage, fuelled by everything from border disputes to sporting rivalry, from trade protectionism to cultural expansionism. The latest to join the list of triggers that spark patriotic and nationalistic outrage (always expressed loudly rather than quietly) terrorism.

Consider this: More than a million infants die every year of malnutrition and more than 100,000 youngsters are killed in road accidents every year in India — doesn’t evoke an iota of embarrassment from the nationalistic brigade. There are some 30,000 casualties from gun violence in the US every year, including more than 300 instances of mass shooting in 2015. No nationalistic outrage. Both are shrugged off. But a single terrorist attack, particularly if it comes from a perceived foreign source, can trigger a nationalistic outpouring that can dominate the media for days and weeks.

Every death is different, and indeed every terrorist attack is different, depending on its geography and its victims. While America and Europe fret about terrorist incidents in their territory, provoking nationalistic fury, there is little concern for terrorist attacks in distant India. Within India itself, a terrorist attack in Delhi or Mumbai has a different resonance from the one in Dantewada or Aizawl, which are outside national — and nationalistic — mainstream conscience. And no one cares for attacks in Africa, including within Africa itself: Burkina Faso, Mali, and Ivory Coast have all seen attacks as bloody and lethal as the ones in Brussels and San Bernardino without getting a fraction of the coverage. 

All this is broadly in tune with the first principles of patriotism (when love of your people comes first) and nationalism (when hate for people other than your own comes first). The difference between patriotism and nationalism, explained the late American columnist Sydney Harris, is that the patriot is proud of his country for what it does, and the nationalist is proud of his country no matter what it does. The first attitude creates a feeling of responsibility, but the second a feeling of blind arrogance that often leads to war, as has been demonstrated again and again in history. 

Q. “More than a million infants die every year of malnutrition and more than 100,000 youngsters are killed in road accidents every year in India — doesn’t evoke an iota of embarrassment from the nationalistic brigade.... But a single terrorist attack, particularly if it comes from a perceived foreign source, can trigger a nationalistic outpouring that can dominate the media for days and weeks..” implies that:

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Scholars and savants, sociologists and political scientists, across ages and across continents, have cautioned against rampant nationalism and its close cousin patriotism (famously described by Mark Twain as the “last refuge of a scoundrel”). But in country after country, from America to Europe to Asia, nationalistic fervor is all the rage, fuelled by everything from border disputes to sporting rivalry, from trade protectionism to cultural expansionism. The latest to join the list of triggers that spark patriotic and nationalistic outrage (always expressed loudly rather than quietly) terrorism.

Consider this: More than a million infants die every year of malnutrition and more than 100,000 youngsters are killed in road accidents every year in India — doesn’t evoke an iota of embarrassment from the nationalistic brigade. There are some 30,000 casualties from gun violence in the US every year, including more than 300 instances of mass shooting in 2015. No nationalistic outrage. Both are shrugged off. But a single terrorist attack, particularly if it comes from a perceived foreign source, can trigger a nationalistic outpouring that can dominate the media for days and weeks.

Every death is different, and indeed every terrorist attack is different, depending on its geography and its victims. While America and Europe fret about terrorist incidents in their territory, provoking nationalistic fury, there is little concern for terrorist attacks in distant India. Within India itself, a terrorist attack in Delhi or Mumbai has a different resonance from the one in Dantewada or Aizawl, which are outside national — and nationalistic — mainstream conscience. And no one cares for attacks in Africa, including within Africa itself: Burkina Faso, Mali, and Ivory Coast have all seen attacks as bloody and lethal as the ones in Brussels and San Bernardino without getting a fraction of the coverage. 

All this is broadly in tune with the first principles of patriotism (when love of your people comes first) and nationalism (when hate for people other than your own comes first). The difference between patriotism and nationalism, explained the late American columnist Sydney Harris, is that the patriot is proud of his country for what it does, and the nationalist is proud of his country no matter what it does. The first attitude creates a feeling of responsibility, but the second a feeling of blind arrogance that often leads to war, as has been demonstrated again and again in history. 

Q. According to the author, nationalistic fervour is fuelled by all of the following except:

A. Growth of a Culture  

B. Discord among nations

C. Economics of trade  

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Scholars and savants, sociologists and political scientists, across ages and across continents, have cautioned against rampant nationalism and its close cousin patriotism (famously described by Mark Twain as the “last refuge of a scoundrel”). But in country after country, from America to Europe to Asia, nationalistic fervor is all the rage, fuelled by everything from border disputes to sporting rivalry, from trade protectionism to cultural expansionism. The latest to join the list of triggers that spark patriotic and nationalistic outrage (always expressed loudly rather than quietly) terrorism.

Consider this: More than a million infants die every year of malnutrition and more than 100,000 youngsters are killed in road accidents every year in India — doesn’t evoke an iota of embarrassment from the nationalistic brigade. There are some 30,000 casualties from gun violence in the US every year, including more than 300 instances of mass shooting in 2015. No nationalistic outrage. Both are shrugged off. But a single terrorist attack, particularly if it comes from a perceived foreign source, can trigger a nationalistic outpouring that can dominate the media for days and weeks.

Every death is different, and indeed every terrorist attack is different, depending on its geography and its victims. While America and Europe fret about terrorist incidents in their territory, provoking nationalistic fury, there is little concern for terrorist attacks in distant India. Within India itself, a terrorist attack in Delhi or Mumbai has a different resonance from the one in Dantewada or Aizawl, which are outside national — and nationalistic — mainstream conscience. And no one cares for attacks in Africa, including within Africa itself: Burkina Faso, Mali, and Ivory Coast have all seen attacks as bloody and lethal as the ones in Brussels and San Bernardino without getting a fraction of the coverage. 

All this is broadly in tune with the first principles of patriotism (when love of your people comes first) and nationalism (when hate for people other than your own comes first). The difference between patriotism and nationalism, explained the late American columnist Sydney Harris, is that the patriot is proud of his country for what it does, and the nationalist is proud of his country no matter what it does. The first attitude creates a feeling of responsibility, but the second a feeling of blind arrogance that often leads to war, as has been demonstrated again and again in history. 

Q. Which of the following cannot be inferred about Burkina Faso, Mali, and Ivory Coast?

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Scholars and savants, sociologists and political scientists, across ages and across continents, have cautioned against rampant nationalism and its close cousin patriotism (famously described by Mark Twain as the “last refuge of a scoundrel”). But in country after country, from America to Europe to Asia, nationalistic fervor is all the rage, fuelled by everything from border disputes to sporting rivalry, from trade protectionism to cultural expansionism. The latest to join the list of triggers that spark patriotic and nationalistic outrage (always expressed loudly rather than quietly): terrorism.

Consider this: More than a million infants die every year of malnutrition and more than 100,000 youngsters are killed in road accidents every year in India — doesn’t evoke an iota of embarrassment from the nationalistic brigade. There are some 30,000 casualties from gun violence in the US every year, including more than 300 instances of mass shooting in 2015. No nationalistic outrage. Both are shrugged off. But a single terrorist attack, particularly if it comes from a perceived foreign source, can trigger a nationalistic outpouring that can dominate the media for days and weeks.

Every death is different, and indeed every terrorist attack is different, depending on its geography and its victims. While America and Europe fret about terrorist incidents in their territory, provoking nationalistic fury, there is little concern for terrorist attacks in distant India. Within India itself, a terrorist attack in Delhi or Mumbai has a different resonance from the one in Dantewada or Aizawl, which are outside national — and nationalistic — mainstream conscience. And no one cares for attacks in Africa, including within Africa itself: Burkina Faso, Mali, and Ivory Coast have all seen attacks as bloody and lethal as the ones in Brussels and San Bernardino without getting a fraction of the coverage. 

All this is broadly in tune with the first principles of patriotism (when love of your people comes first) and nationalism (when hate for people other than your own comes first). The difference between patriotism and nationalism, explained the late American columnist Sydney Harris, is that the patriot is proud of his country for what it does, and the nationalist is proud of his country no matter what it does. The first attitude creates a feeling of responsibility, but the second a feeling of blind arrogance that often leads to war, as has been demonstrated again and again in history. 

Q. Why does Mark Twain call patriotism as the “last refuge of a scoundrel”?

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Scholars and savants, sociologists and political scientists, across ages and across continents, have cautioned against rampant nationalism and its close cousin patriotism (famously described by Mark Twain as the “last refuge of a scoundrel”). But in country after country, from America to Europe to Asia, nationalistic fervor is all the rage, fuelled by everything from border disputes to sporting rivalry, from trade protectionism to cultural expansionism. The latest to join the list of triggers that spark patriotic and nationalistic outrage (always expressed loudly rather than quietly): terrorism.

Consider this: More than a million infants die every year of malnutrition and more than 100,000 youngsters are killed in road accidents every year in India — doesn’t evoke an iota of embarrassment from the nationalistic brigade. There are some 30,000 casualties from gun violence in the US every year, including more than 300 instances of mass shooting in 2015. No nationalistic outrage. Both are shrugged off. But a single terrorist attack, particularly if it comes from a perceived foreign source, can trigger a nationalistic outpouring that can dominate the media for days and weeks.

Every death is different, and indeed every terrorist attack is different, depending on its geography and its victims. While America and Europe fret about terrorist incidents in their territory, provoking nationalistic fury, there is little concern for terrorist attacks in distant India. Within India itself, a terrorist attack in Delhi or Mumbai has a different resonance from the one in Dantewada or Aizawl, which are outside national — and nationalistic — mainstream conscience. And no one cares for attacks in Africa, including within Africa itself: Burkina Faso, Mali, and Ivory Coast have all seen attacks as bloody and lethal as the ones in Brussels and San Bernardino without getting a fraction of the coverage. 

All this is broadly in tune with the first principles of patriotism (when love of your people comes first) and nationalism (when hate for people other than your own comes first). The difference between patriotism and nationalism, explained the late American columnist Sydney Harris, is that the patriot is proud of his country for what it does, and the nationalist is proud of his country no matter what it does. The first attitude creates a feeling of responsibility, but the second a feeling of blind arrogance that often leads to war, as has been demonstrated again and again in history. 

Q. How does the geography of a place and its victims influence the perception of a terrorist attack?

A. Terrorist attacks are seen more in the west than in the east.

B. Within a country, terrorism in the more industrious areas cause more outrage.

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Who and what is an Indian? How we are to characterize the Indian diasporic community as 'Indian' given that it is constituted of such diverse elements as South Asian Hong Kong Muslims, Canadian Sikhs (or shall we say Sikh Canadians?), Punjabi Mexican Californians, Gujarati East Africans now settled in the U.S. by way of England, South African Hindus, and so forth? In the United States, at least, the Indian community has occupied a place of considerable privilege, and many Indians could deflect the moment of recognition that 'Indianness' and being 'American' do not always happily coincide. In recent years, with a declining economy on the one hand, and the congregation of Indians in clusters that visibly put them apart on the other hand, Indians have for the first time become the targets of racial attacks. The Indian woman in her 'native dress', with the vermillion dot on her forehead, is easily seen as an embodiment of sheer otherness, and so she has been perceived by the so-called "dot-busters", a gang of white teenagers operating in New Jersey who have already been responsible for several violent crimes against Indians. In North America and the U.K., the native Indian costume has come up for public scrutiny and discussion in an altogether different respect: Sikhs have insisted that they be exempt from the law that compels bicyclists and motorcyclists to wear helmets, for such helmets cannot be worn over turbans, and their religious faith requires Sikhs to wear turbans. The kirpan has been an issue of contention in California schools. The 'corner shop', a hallowed symbol (if we could recall our Dickens) of English life, is now mainly in the hands of Indians. The obvious question is not only, 'What do the English think of that', but also: 'If the English landscape has been so altered, what is English about England'? The diaspora, in short, affects the center as well. 

However unlike Indian communities across the world might be, they all maintain some sort of tenuous link with the motherland. The most likely candidate for a force of bonding would be, of all things, the Hindi feature film, a phenomenon unique to the Indian diaspora: what Hollywood is to Western Europe, the Bombay Hollywood ("Bollywood") is to the Middle East and East Africa. The modesty, not to mention puritanism, of the Hindi film is said to explain its appeal to the Islamic world; and though we may well contest that interpretation, it is worthy of note that Hindi films found in grocery and video stores across the U.S. often carry subtitles in Arabic, one language which is indubitably not spoken by any Indian community in the U.S. 

The Indian 'arranged marriage' might furnish another such facet of a 'common culture'. Newspapers published by Indian communities flourish everywhere, and they invariably carry a section with matrimonial ads. Though these very ads help Indians to 'locate' one another, they pose difficult questions about 'otherness', both the otherness' of Indians in relation to 'Americans', and the internal 'otherness' of certain Indians in relation to other Indians.

Q. A suitable title for this passage would be: 

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Who and what is an Indian? How we are to characterize the Indian diasporic community as 'Indian' given that it is constituted of such diverse elements as South Asian Hong Kong Muslims, Canadian Sikhs (or shall we say Sikh Canadians?), Punjabi Mexican Californians, Gujarati East Africans now settled in the U.S. by way of England, South African Hindus, and so forth? In the United States, at least, the Indian community has occupied a place of considerable privilege, and many Indians could deflect the moment of recognition that 'Indianness' and being 'American' do not always happily coincide. In recent years, with a declining economy on the one hand, and the congregation of Indians in clusters that visibly put them apart on the other hand, Indians have for the first time become the targets of racial attacks. The Indian woman in her 'native dress', with the vermillion dot on her forehead, is easily seen as an embodiment of sheer otherness, and so she has been perceived by the so-called "dot-busters", a gang of white teenagers operating in New Jersey who have already been responsible for several violent crimes against Indians. In North America and the U.K., the native Indian costume has come up for public scrutiny and discussion in an altogether different respect: Sikhs have insisted that they be exempt from the law that compels bicyclists and motorcyclists to wear helmets, for such helmets cannot be worn over turbans, and their religious faith requires Sikhs to wear turbans. The kirpan has been an issue of contention in California schools. The 'corner shop', a hallowed symbol (if we could recall our Dickens) of English life, is now mainly in the hands of Indians. The obvious question is not only, 'What do the English think of that', but also: 'If the English landscape has been so altered, what is English about England'? The diaspora, in short, affects the center as well. 

However unlike Indian communities across the world might be, they all maintain some sort of tenuous link with the motherland. The most likely candidate for a force of bonding would be, of all things, the Hindi feature film, a phenomenon unique to the Indian diaspora: what Hollywood is to Western Europe, the Bombay Hollywood ("Bollywood") is to the Middle East and East Africa. The modesty, not to mention puritanism, of the Hindi film is said to explain its appeal to the Islamic world; and though we may well contest that interpretation, it is worthy of note that Hindi films found in grocery and video stores across the U.S. often carry subtitles in Arabic, one language which is indubitably not spoken by any Indian community in the U.S. 

The Indian 'arranged marriage' might furnish another such facet of a 'common culture'. Newspapers published by Indian communities flourish everywhere, and they invariably carry a section with matrimonial ads. Though these very ads help Indians to 'locate' one another, they pose difficult questions about 'otherness', both the otherness' of Indians in relation to 'Americans', and the internal 'otherness' of certain Indians in relation to other Indians.

Q. “In recent years, with a declining economy on the one hand, and the congregation of Indians in clusters that visibly put them apart on the other hand, Indians have for the first time become the targets of racial attacks.”

Which of these phrases is applicable to the above lines:

A. Desires are nourished by delays

B. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Who and what is an Indian? How we are to characterize the Indian diasporic community as 'Indian' given that it is constituted of such diverse elements as South Asian Hong Kong Muslims, Canadian Sikhs (or shall we say Sikh Canadians?), Punjabi Mexican Californians, Gujarati East Africans now settled in the U.S. by way of England, South African Hindus, and so forth? In the United States, at least, the Indian community has occupied a place of considerable privilege, and many Indians could deflect the moment of recognition that 'Indianness' and being 'American' do not always happily coincide. In recent years, with a declining economy on the one hand, and the congregation of Indians in clusters that visibly put them apart on the other hand, Indians have for the first time become the targets of racial attacks. The Indian woman in her 'native dress', with the vermillion dot on her forehead, is easily seen as an embodiment of sheer otherness, and so she has been perceived by the so-called "dot-busters", a gang of white teenagers operating in New Jersey who have already been responsible for several violent crimes against Indians. In North America and the U.K., the native Indian costume has come up for public scrutiny and discussion in an altogether different respect: Sikhs have insisted that they be exempt from the law that compels bicyclists and motorcyclists to wear helmets, for such helmets cannot be worn over turbans, and their religious faith requires Sikhs to wear turbans. The kirpan has been an issue of contention in California schools. The 'corner shop', a hallowed symbol (if we could recall our Dickens) of English life, is now mainly in the hands of Indians. The obvious question is not only, 'What do the English think of that', but also: 'If the English landscape has been so altered, what is English about England'? The diaspora, in short, affects the center as well. 

However unlike Indian communities across the world might be, they all maintain some sort of tenuous link with the motherland. The most likely candidate for a force of bonding would be, of all things, the Hindi feature film, a phenomenon unique to the Indian diaspora: what Hollywood is to Western Europe, the Bombay Hollywood ("Bollywood") is to the Middle East and East Africa. The modesty, not to mention puritanism, of the Hindi film is said to explain its appeal to the Islamic world; and though we may well contest that interpretation, it is worthy of note that Hindi films found in grocery and video stores across the U.S. often carry subtitles in Arabic, one language which is indubitably not spoken by any Indian community in the U.S. 

The Indian 'arranged marriage' might furnish another such facet of a 'common culture'. Newspapers published by Indian communities flourish everywhere, and they invariably carry a section with matrimonial ads. Though these very ads help Indians to 'locate' one another, they pose difficult questions about 'otherness', both the otherness' of Indians in relation to 'Americans', and the internal 'otherness' of certain Indians in relation to other Indians.

Q. Which of the following is true according to the passage?

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Who and what is an Indian? How we are to characterize the Indian diasporic community as 'Indian' given that it is constituted of such diverse elements as South Asian Hong Kong Muslims, Canadian Sikhs (or shall we say Sikh Canadians?), Punjabi Mexican Californians, Gujarati East Africans now settled in the U.S. by way of England, South African Hindus, and so forth? In the United States, at least, the Indian community has occupied a place of considerable privilege, and many Indians could deflect the moment of recognition that 'Indianness' and being 'American' do not always happily coincide. In recent years, with a declining economy on the one hand, and the congregation of Indians in clusters that visibly put them apart on the other hand, Indians have for the first time become the targets of racial attacks. The Indian woman in her 'native dress', with the vermillion dot on her forehead, is easily seen as an embodiment of sheer otherness, and so she has been perceived by the so-called "dot-busters", a gang of white teenagers operating in New Jersey who have already been responsible for several violent crimes against Indians. In North America and the U.K., the native Indian costume has come up for public scrutiny and discussion in an altogether different respect: Sikhs have insisted that they be exempt from the law that compels bicyclists and motorcyclists to wear helmets, for such helmets cannot be worn over turbans, and their religious faith requires Sikhs to wear turbans. The kirpan has been an issue of contention in California schools. The 'corner shop', a hallowed symbol (if we could recall our Dickens) of English life, is now mainly in the hands of Indians. The obvious question is not only, 'What do the English think of that', but also: 'If the English landscape has been so altered, what is English about England'? The diaspora, in short, affects the center as well. 

However unlike Indian communities across the world might be, they all maintain some sort of tenuous link with the motherland. The most likely candidate for a force of bonding would be, of all things, the Hindi feature film, a phenomenon unique to the Indian diaspora: what Hollywood is to Western Europe, the Bombay Hollywood ("Bollywood") is to the Middle East and East Africa. The modesty, not to mention puritanism, of the Hindi film is said to explain its appeal to the Islamic world; and though we may well contest that interpretation, it is worthy of note that Hindi films found in grocery and video stores across the U.S. often carry subtitles in Arabic, one language which is indubitably not spoken by any Indian community in the U.S. 

The Indian 'arranged marriage' might furnish another such facet of a 'common culture'. Newspapers published by Indian communities flourish everywhere, and they invariably carry a section with matrimonial ads. Though these very ads help Indians to 'locate' one another, they pose difficult questions about 'otherness', both the otherness' of Indians in relation to 'Americans', and the internal 'otherness' of certain Indians in relation to other Indians.

Q. “The Indian 'arranged marriage' might furnish another such facet of a 'common culture'.” Imples:

A. Indians are getting married in foreign lands.

B. Arranged marriages are common in the West.

C. The fundamentals of Indian marriage are changing.

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Who and what is an Indian? How we are to characterize the Indian diasporic community as 'Indian' given that it is constituted of such diverse elements as South Asian Hong Kong Muslims, Canadian Sikhs (or shall we say Sikh Canadians?), Punjabi Mexican Californians, Gujarati East Africans now settled in the U.S. by way of England, South African Hindus, and so forth? In the United States, at least, the Indian community has occupied a place of considerable privilege, and many Indians could deflect the moment of recognition that 'Indianness' and being 'American' do not always happily coincide. In recent years, with a declining economy on the one hand, and the congregation of Indians in clusters that visibly put them apart on the other hand, Indians have for the first time become the targets of racial attacks. The Indian woman in her 'native dress', with the vermillion dot on her forehead, is easily seen as an embodiment of sheer otherness, and so she has been perceived by the so-called "dot-busters", a gang of white teenagers operating in New Jersey who have already been responsible for several violent crimes against Indians. In North America and the U.K., the native Indian costume has come up for public scrutiny and discussion in an altogether different respect: Sikhs have insisted that they be exempt from the law that compels bicyclists and motorcyclists to wear helmets, for such helmets cannot be worn over turbans, and their religious faith requires Sikhs to wear turbans. The kirpan has been an issue of contention in California schools. The 'corner shop', a hallowed symbol (if we could recall our Dickens) of English life, is now mainly in the hands of Indians. The obvious question is not only, 'What do the English think of that', but also: 'If the English landscape has been so altered, what is English about England'? The diaspora, in short, affects the center as well. 

However unlike Indian communities across the world might be, they all maintain some sort of tenuous link with the motherland. The most likely candidate for a force of bonding would be, of all things, the Hindi feature film, a phenomenon unique to the Indian diaspora: what Hollywood is to Western Europe, the Bombay Hollywood ("Bollywood") is to the Middle East and East Africa. The modesty, not to mention puritanism, of the Hindi film is said to explain its appeal to the Islamic world; and though we may well contest that interpretation, it is worthy of note that Hindi films found in grocery and video stores across the U.S. often carry subtitles in Arabic, one language which is indubitably not spoken by any Indian community in the U.S. 

The Indian 'arranged marriage' might furnish another such facet of a 'common culture'. Newspapers published by Indian communities flourish everywhere, and they invariably carry a section with matrimonial ads. Though these very ads help Indians to 'locate' one another, they pose difficult questions about 'otherness', both the otherness' of Indians in relation to 'Americans', and the internal 'otherness' of certain Indians in relation to other Indians.

Q. Which of the following weakens the concept of “otherness” as mentioned in the passage?

Answer the questions based on the passage given below.

Who and what is an Indian? How we are to characterize the Indian diasporic community as 'Indian' given that it is constituted of such diverse elements as South Asian Hong Kong Muslims, Canadian Sikhs (or shall we say Sikh Canadians?), Punjabi Mexican Californians, Gujarati East Africans now settled in the U.S. by way of England, South African Hindus, and so forth? In the United States, at least, the Indian community has occupied a place of considerable privilege, and many Indians could deflect the moment of recognition that 'Indianness' and being 'American' do not always happily coincide. In recent years, with a declining economy on the one hand, and the congregation of Indians in clusters that visibly put them apart on the other hand, Indians have for the first time become the targets of racial attacks. The Indian woman in her 'native dress', with the vermillion dot on her forehead, is easily seen as an embodiment of sheer otherness, and so she has been perceived by the so-called "dot-busters", a gang of white teenagers operating in New Jersey who have already been responsible for several violent crimes against Indians. In North America and the U.K., the native Indian costume has come up for public scrutiny and discussion in an altogether different respect: Sikhs have insisted that they be exempt from the law that compels bicyclists and motorcyclists to wear helmets, for such helmets cannot be worn over turbans, and their religious faith requires Sikhs to wear turbans. The kirpan has been an issue of contention in California schools. The 'corner shop', a hallowed symbol (if we could recall our Dickens) of English life, is now mainly in the hands of Indians. The obvious question is not only, 'What do the English think of that', but also: 'If the English landscape has been so altered, what is English about England'? The diaspora, in short, affects the center as well. 

However unlike Indian communities across the world might be, they all maintain some sort of tenuous link with the motherland. The most likely candidate for a force of bonding would be, of all things, the Hindi feature film, a phenomenon unique to the Indian diaspora: what Hollywood is to Western Europe, the Bombay Hollywood ("Bollywood") is to the Middle East and East Africa. The modesty, not to mention puritanism, of the Hindi film is said to explain its appeal to the Islamic world; and though we may well contest that interpretation, it is worthy of note that Hindi films found in grocery and video stores across the U.S. often carry subtitles in Arabic, one language which is indubitably not spoken by any Indian community in the U.S. 

The Indian 'arranged marriage' might furnish another such facet of a 'common culture'. Newspapers published by Indian communities flourish everywhere, and they invariably carry a section with matrimonial ads. Though these very ads help Indians to 'locate' one another, they pose difficult questions about 'otherness', both the otherness' of Indians in relation to 'Americans', and the internal 'otherness' of certain Indians in relation to other Indians.

Q. “What is English about England?” This statement is based on the  assumption that:

Five sentences are given below labeled (1), (2), (3), (4) and (5). Of these, four sentences need to be arranged in a logical order to form a coherent paragraph/passage. Pick out the sentence that does not fit the sequence.

1. Study after study confirms that customer satisfaction and stock price generally tend to move in tandem.

2. Interestingly, they go on to conclude that because the market is insufficiently receptive to ACSI data as a leading indicator of financial performance, It’s possible to beat the market by investing in firms that do well on the ASCI.

3. That shouldn’t be surprising, as both are fairly reliable indicators of a firm’s vitality.

4. However, since many firms nowadays are hard-pressed to satisfy the escalating demands of both digitally-empowered consumers and activist shareholders, there are ever more variables feeding this relationship.

5. CMOs, therefore, need to understand this issue at a deeper level, so they can isolate and control the levers by which customer sentiment comes to influence the market.

Five sentences are given below labeled (1), (2), (3), (4) and (5). Of these, four sentences need to be arranged in a logical order to form a coherent paragraph/passage. Pick out the sentence that does not fit the sequence.

1. It’s important they recognize that they have a choice.

2. This means stepping back, and looking at other options open to them rather than mindlessly following their cravings for more.

3. Greed is bad for the society as a whole and we should try to restrain our need for more.

4. Taking this altruistic route, requires persistence, patience, humility, courage and commitment.

5. People suffering from the greed syndrome need to find ways to move on from egoistic strivings to more altruistic ones.