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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.
Four sentences are given below labeled (1), (2), (3) and (4). Of these, three 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.
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. At first, it was regarded only as a facet of architectural historicism.
2. But few were consistent, and fewer still had sufficient firsthand knowledge of the style to interpret it with any conviction.
3. The Gothic Revival in the United States was inevitably a stylistic import.
4. It was not the outcome of deeply felt original sentiments of either a Romantic or moral nature.
5. Architects later adopted the aspirations and ideals of Pugin, the Camdenians, and Viollet-le-Duc and attempted to use the Gothic style in conformity with the principles that they had laid down.
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. As a result, Mexico became a net exporter of wheat by 1963.
2. These collective increases in yield have been labeled the Green Revolution, and Borlaug is often credited with saving over a billion people from starvation.
3. Between 1965 and 1970, wheat yields nearly doubled in Pakistan and India, greatly improving the food security in those nations.
4. During the mid-20th century, Borlaug led the introduction of these high-yielding varieties combined with modem agricultural production techniques to Mexico, Pakistan, and India.
5. He was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1970 in recognition of his contributions to world peace through increasing food supply.
Enter the number of the option which correctly fits the blank.
His_____________disregard for the college rules resulted in his suspension.
Enter the number of the option which correctly fits the blank.
The pair are accused of __________ the player's image rights to the companies in order to avoid declaring money made from __________ deals with sponsors in Spain.
The question below contains a paragraph followed by alternative summaries. Choose the option that best captures the essence of the paragraph.
Though nihilism and existentialism are distinct philosophies, they are often confused with one another. A primary cause of confusion is that Friedrich Nietzsche is a central philosopher in both fields. Adding to the confusion is a form of existentialism, nihilistic existentialism, which contains elements of both. What sets existential nihilists apart from pure nihilists is that while nihilists do not believe in any meaning whatsoever, existential nihilists only believe this in relation to any sort of meaning to life. This position is implied in “regular” nihilism, and existential nihilists may also subscribe to the full nihilistic view, but existential nihilism is still a separate view.
The statement(s) below are the summary of a paragraph. Choose option that best represents the paragraph that was summarised.
Although the use of a priori to distinguish knowledge such as that which we have in mathematics is comparatively recent, the interest of philosophers in that kind of knowledge is almost as old as philosophy itself. No one finds it puzzling that one can acquire information by looking, feeling, or listening, but philosophers who have taken seriously the possibility of learning by mere thinking have often considered that this requires some special explanation.
The passage given below is followed by a question. Choose the most appropriate answer to each question.
Cycling has saved me so much time, and money. I failed my driving test aged 17, and then never got round to taking it again: I've never owned a car and experienced all the hassles (and, admittedly joys) that come with one. But with the help of trains, I can go anywhere I like, and in London, to multiple events in a single evening. There is the odd, fairly small repair cost, but it would meanwhile cost me hundreds, if not thousands every year to use the tube.
Cycling also allows time to see so much more than other forms of transport. On a recent holiday in Devon, I stopped to look at some beautiful horses along a country road. I could smell the warm, horsey aroma, while the early evening June glow caught their shiny manes. Later that evening I mentioned this to a friend who lives locally and who had driven along that route hundreds of times but had never noticed there were stables at the end of the road. There is something just right about the speed of a bike. It allows you to cover so much more ground than walking, but you can see so much more than from a car. On that same ride I spotted an owl, rabbits and a grass snake wriggling into a bush. You'd frighten them off with a roaring engine, or even turn them into roadkill.
Last year I took part in a charity bike ride from John O'Groats to Land's End - 1,000 miles in just nine days. It was fantastic, but undeniably tough at times. But one of the things that amazed me was how fit and healthy some of the older cyclists were. The man mostly at the front was at least 50, tearing up road at tremendous speeds and leaving others gasping. At least one of the other riders was over 70. Cycling seems to be an activity you can keep improving at, even when past the conventional sporting peak of your late 20s. So in that respect it seems to be like being music or writing, or wine, improving with age. I sometimes do other forms of exercise - a bit of running and swimming - but many of my friends who have played a lot of football - at least more than me - have completely worn their knees out. But cycling's low impact seems to only strengthen knees, and I feel that mine will last longer thanks to a lifetime in the saddle.
When on a challenging trip or even in the city, cycling's culture of friendliness and mutual support, especially when you have a puncture or other breakdown, continues to surprise me. What other activities seem to inspire such camaraderie among strangers?
Cycling must have its downsides, surely? Yes, but even they can have solutions. Admittedly cycling in snow is next to impossible, and or heavy rain unpleasant, but improvements in breathable waterproof clothing make that much more bearable, and doesn't stop my daily commute. And hills? They get so much easier with practice, like anything else. I've grown to love going uphill, perhaps as much as downhill. I can climb a long hill near Torquay in Devon with the birds singing and the wind whistling through the trees. It is tranquil, and very satisfying.
Q.Which of these is not mentioned as a benefit of using the cycle?
Cycling has saved me so much time, and money. I failed my driving test aged 17, and then never got round to taking it again: I've never owned a car and experienced all the hassles (and, admittedly joys) that come with one. But with the help of trains, I can go anywhere I like, and in London, to multiple events in a single evening. There is the odd, fairly small repair cost, but it would meanwhile cost me hundreds, if not thousands every year to use the tube.
Cycling also allows time to see so much more than other forms of transport. On a recent holiday in Devon, I stopped to look at some beautiful horses along a country road. I could smell the warm, horsey aroma, while the early evening June glow caught their shiny manes. Later that evening I mentioned this to a friend who lives locally and who had driven along that route hundreds of times but had never noticed there were stables at the end of the road. There is something just right about the speed of a bike. It allows you to cover so much more ground than walking, but you can see so much more than from a car. On that same ride I spotted an owl, rabbits and a grass snake wriggling into a bush. You'd frighten them off with a roaring engine, or even turn them into roadkill.
Last year I took part in a charity bike ride from John O'Groats to Land's End - 1,000 miles in just nine days. It was fantastic, but undeniably tough at times. But one of the things that amazed me was how fit and healthy some of the older cyclists were. The man mostly at the front was at least 50, tearing up road at tremendous speeds and leaving others gasping. At least one of the other riders was over 70. Cycling seems to be an activity you can keep improving at, even when past the conventional sporting peak of your late 20s. So in that respect it seems to be like being music or writing, or wine, improving with age. I sometimes do other forms of exercise - a bit of running and swimming - but many of my friends who have played a lot of football - at least more than me - have completely worn their knees out. But cycling's low impact seems to only strengthen knees, and I feel that mine will last longer thanks to a lifetime in the saddle.
When on a challenging trip or even in the city, cycling's culture of friendliness and mutual support, especially when you have a puncture or other breakdown, continues to surprise me. What other activities seem to inspire such camaraderie among strangers?
Cycling must have its downsides, surely? Yes, but even they can have solutions. Admittedly cycling in snow is next to impossible, and or heavy rain unpleasant, but improvements in breathable waterproof clothing make that much more bearable, and doesn't stop my daily commute. And hills? They get so much easier with practice, like anything else. I've grown to love going uphill, perhaps as much as downhill. I can climb a long hill near Torquay in Devon with the birds singing and the wind whistling through the trees. It is tranquil, and very satisfying.
Q.From the passage, what can you say about the author?
The passage given below is followed by a question. Choose the most appropriate answer to each question.
Cycling has saved me so much time, and money. I failed my driving test aged 17, and then never got round to taking it again: I've never owned a car and experienced all the hassles (and, admittedly joys) that come with one. But with the help of trains, I can go anywhere I like, and in London, to multiple events in a single evening. There is the odd, fairly small repair cost, but it would meanwhile cost me hundreds, if not thousands every year to use the tube.
Cycling also allows time to see so much more than other forms of transport. On a recent holiday in Devon, I stopped to look at some beautiful horses along a country road. I could smell the warm, horsey aroma, while the early evening June glow caught their shiny manes. Later that evening I mentioned this to a friend who lives locally and who had driven along that route hundreds of times but had never noticed there were stables at the end of the road. There is something just right about the speed of a bike. It allows you to cover so much more ground than walking, but you can see so much more than from a car. On that same ride I spotted an owl, rabbits and a grass snake wriggling into a bush. You'd frighten them off with a roaring engine, or even turn them into roadkill.
Last year I took part in a charity bike ride from John O'Groats to Land's End - 1,000 miles in just nine days. It was fantastic, but undeniably tough at times. But one of the things that amazed me was how fit and healthy some of the older cyclists were. The man mostly at the front was at least 50, tearing up road at tremendous speeds and leaving others gasping. At least one of the other riders was over 70. Cycling seems to be an activity you can keep improving at, even when past the conventional sporting peak of your late 20s. So in that respect it seems to be like being music or writing, or wine, improving with age. I sometimes do other forms of exercise - a bit of running and swimming - but many of my friends who have played a lot of football - at least more than me - have completely worn their knees out. But cycling's low impact seems to only strengthen knees, and I feel that mine will last longer thanks to a lifetime in the saddle.
When on a challenging trip or even in the city, cycling's culture of friendliness and mutual support, especially when you have a puncture or other breakdown, continues to surprise me. What other activities seem to inspire such camaraderie among strangers?
Cycling must have its downsides, surely? Yes, but even they can have solutions. Admittedly cycling in snow is next to impossible, and or heavy rain unpleasant, but improvements in breathable waterproof clothing make that much more bearable, and doesn't stop my daily commute. And hills? They get so much easier with practice, like anything else. I've grown to love going uphill, perhaps as much as downhill. I can climb a long hill near Torquay in Devon with the birds singing and the wind whistling through the trees. It is tranquil, and very satisfying.
Q.“Admittedly cycling in snow is next to impossible.”
The passage given below is followed by a question. Choose the most appropriate answer to each question.
Cycling has saved me so much time, and money. I failed my driving test aged 17, and then never got round to taking it again: I've never owned a car and experienced all the hassles (and, admittedly joys) that come with one. But with the help of trains, I can go anywhere I like, and in London, to multiple events in a single evening. There is the odd, fairly small repair cost, but it would meanwhile cost me hundreds, if not thousands every year to use the tube.
Cycling also allows time to see so much more than other forms of transport. On a recent holiday in Devon, I stopped to look at some beautiful horses along a country road. I could smell the warm, horsey aroma, while the early evening June glow caught their shiny manes. Later that evening I mentioned this to a friend who lives locally and who had driven along that route hundreds of times but had never noticed there were stables at the end of the road. There is something just right about the speed of a bike. It allows you to cover so much more ground than walking, but you can see so much more than from a car. On that same ride I spotted an owl, rabbits and a grass snake wriggling into a bush. You'd frighten them off with a roaring engine, or even turn them into roadkill.
Last year I took part in a charity bike ride from John O'Groats to Land's End - 1,000 miles in just nine days. It was fantastic, but undeniably tough at times. But one of the things that amazed me was how fit and healthy some of the older cyclists were. The man mostly at the front was at least 50, tearing up road at tremendous speeds and leaving others gasping. At least one of the other riders was over 70. Cycling seems to be an activity you can keep improving at, even when past the conventional sporting peak of your late 20s. So in that respect it seems to be like being music or writing, or wine, improving with age. I sometimes do other forms of exercise - a bit of running and swimming - but many of my friends who have played a lot of football - at least more than me - have completely worn their knees out. But cycling's low impact seems to only strengthen knees, and I feel that mine will last longer thanks to a lifetime in the saddle.
When on a challenging trip or even in the city, cycling's culture of friendliness and mutual support, especially when you have a puncture or other breakdown, continues to surprise me. What other activities seem to inspire such camaraderie among strangers?
Cycling must have its downsides, surely? Yes, but even they can have solutions. Admittedly cycling in snow is next to impossible, and or heavy rain unpleasant, but improvements in breathable waterproof clothing make that much more bearable, and doesn't stop my daily commute. And hills? They get so much easier with practice, like anything else. I've grown to love going uphill, perhaps as much as downhill. I can climb a long hill near Torquay in Devon with the birds singing and the wind whistling through the trees. It is tranquil, and very satisfying.
Q.Which of the following weakens the position of the author?
A. Cycling is a value-for-money investment.
B. In commuting, cycling comes second only to walking.
C. Cycles cause as many accidents as cars.
The passage given below is followed by a question. Choose the most appropriate answer to each question.
Cycling has saved me so much time, and money. I failed my driving test aged 17, and then never got round to taking it again: I've never owned a car and experienced all the hassles (and, admittedly joys) that come with one. But with the help of trains, I can go anywhere I like, and in London, to multiple events in a single evening. There is the odd, fairly small repair cost, but it would meanwhile cost me hundreds, if not thousands every year to use the tube.
Cycling also allows time to see so much more than other forms of transport. On a recent holiday in Devon, I stopped to look at some beautiful horses along a country road. I could smell the warm, horsey aroma, while the early evening June glow caught their shiny manes. Later that evening I mentioned this to a friend who lives locally and who had driven along that route hundreds of times but had never noticed there were stables at the end of the road. There is something just right about the speed of a bike. It allows you to cover so much more ground than walking, but you can see so much more than from a car. On that same ride I spotted an owl, rabbits and a grass snake wriggling into a bush. You'd frighten them off with a roaring engine, or even turn them into roadkill.
Last year I took part in a charity bike ride from John O'Groats to Land's End - 1,000 miles in just nine days. It was fantastic, but undeniably tough at times. But one of the things that amazed me was how fit and healthy some of the older cyclists were. The man mostly at the front was at least 50, tearing up road at tremendous speeds and leaving others gasping. At least one of the other riders was over 70. Cycling seems to be an activity you can keep improving at, even when past the conventional sporting peak of your late 20s. So in that respect it seems to be like being music or writing, or wine, improving with age. I sometimes do other forms of exercise - a bit of running and swimming - but many of my friends who have played a lot of football - at least more than me - have completely worn their knees out. But cycling's low impact seems to only strengthen knees, and I feel that mine will last longer thanks to a lifetime in the saddle.
When on a challenging trip or even in the city, cycling's culture of friendliness and mutual support, especially when you have a puncture or other breakdown, continues to surprise me. What other activities seem to inspire such camaraderie among strangers?
Cycling must have its downsides, surely? Yes, but even they can have solutions. Admittedly cycling in snow is next to impossible, and or heavy rain unpleasant, but improvements in breathable waterproof clothing make that much more bearable, and doesn't stop my daily commute. And hills? They get so much easier with practice, like anything else. I've grown to love going uphill, perhaps as much as downhill. I can climb a long hill near Torquay in Devon with the birds singing and the wind whistling through the trees. It is tranquil, and very satisfying.
Q.According to the passage, cyclists:
The passage given below is followed by a question. Choose the most appropriate answer to each question.
Cycling has saved me so much time, and money. I failed my driving test aged 17, and then never got round to taking it again: I've never owned a car and experienced all the hassles (and, admittedly joys) that come with one. But with the help of trains, I can go anywhere I like, and in London, to multiple events in a single evening. There is the odd, fairly small repair cost, but it would meanwhile cost me hundreds, if not thousands every year to use the tube.
Cycling also allows time to see so much more than other forms of transport. On a recent holiday in Devon, I stopped to look at some beautiful horses along a country road. I could smell the warm, horsey aroma, while the early evening June glow caught their shiny manes. Later that evening I mentioned this to a friend who lives locally and who had driven along that route hundreds of times but had never noticed there were stables at the end of the road. There is something just right about the speed of a bike. It allows you to cover so much more ground than walking, but you can see so much more than from a car. On that same ride I spotted an owl, rabbits and a grass snake wriggling into a bush. You'd frighten them off with a roaring engine, or even turn them into roadkill.
Last year I took part in a charity bike ride from John O'Groats to Land's End - 1,000 miles in just nine days. It was fantastic, but undeniably tough at times. But one of the things that amazed me was how fit and healthy some of the older cyclists were. The man mostly at the front was at least 50, tearing up road at tremendous speeds and leaving others gasping. At least one of the other riders was over 70. Cycling seems to be an activity you can keep improving at, even when past the conventional sporting peak of your late 20s. So in that respect it seems to be like being music or writing, or wine, improving with age. I sometimes do other forms of exercise - a bit of running and swimming - but many of my friends who have played a lot of football - at least more than me - have completely worn their knees out. But cycling's low impact seems to only strengthen knees, and I feel that mine will last longer thanks to a lifetime in the saddle.
When on a challenging trip or even in the city, cycling's culture of friendliness and mutual support, especially when you have a puncture or other breakdown, continues to surprise me. What other activities seem to inspire such camaraderie among strangers?
Cycling must have its downsides, surely? Yes, but even they can have solutions. Admittedly cycling in snow is next to impossible, and or heavy rain unpleasant, but improvements in breathable waterproof clothing make that much more bearable, and doesn't stop my daily commute. And hills? They get so much easier with practice, like anything else. I've grown to love going uphill, perhaps as much as downhill. I can climb a long hill near Torquay in Devon with the birds singing and the wind whistling through the trees. It is tranquil, and very satisfying.
Q.Why did the author’s friend never notice the horses in Devon?
Chander Singh apologises as he is a tad late when he comes to pick up this writer in his new Swift Dzire. Singh has been a driver for many years; most recently with The Imperial, a heritage hotel in Delhi. He earned a lot from tips foreign tourists doled out, but was getting tired of polishing his shoes every morning - a demand from his managers he found hassling. Instead, he wanted to work on his own terms. So a few months ago he, along with a friend, bought a car on loan and started working for San Francisco-based cab hailing company Uber. He hopes he will make Rs. 25,000 a month on average. Uber, says Singh, also tops up with Rs. 300 per trip during peak hours. At the end of the trip, from Noida to South Delhi, Singh quips: “I am trying out Uber. If this doesn't work, I will go to Ola. I am also getting calls from Meru every day.”
All marketplaces have a choke point. In the case of e-tailers, it is the consumers whose appetite for discounts leads them to flame venture capital money. In the case of on-demand taxi aggregators such as Uber, Ola Cabs and Meru Cabs, it is the drivers. Taxi aggregators typically don’t own any cabs or employ drivers; they connect customers with drivers through a tech platform, the front-end for the customer being an app. According to one estimate, 1.6 million vehicles in India are licensed to run as cabs but there are not as many quality drivers. It is quite a task for aggregators to convince drivers - used to a mom-and-pop model or radio taxis - to work with them. And those who are available, like Singh, may not remain loyal to one company.
Securing the supply side has become a slugfest among India's top three on-demand taxi companies - ANI Technologies, which runs Ola , Uber and Meru - as they pour money to capture the market. Ola and Uber, particularly, backed by global venture capitalists, are threatening to make every other taxi company in India irrelevant. Home-bred Ola has thus far raised more than $700 million. Uber has mopped up $6 billion and has committed $1 billion for India in the next nine months. Both are using their war chest to offer incentives to drivers and discounted fares to riders. Traditional radio cabs and small-time operators are struggling to match up. The existential threat has made them cry out “market monopolisation”. Companies such as Meru, Carzonrent and Mega Cabs have thrown their collective might to regulate the "unregulated" on-demand companies. Legal tussles have greeted the aggregators.
Big money is making this battle worth fighting for. According to the Association of Radio Taxi India, the taxi business in the country is growing at 20 to 25 per cent a year. The organised taxi sector accounts for just four to five per cent of the industry and totals $800 million. It is expected to grow to $7 billion by 2020.
Q.Which of the following is true according to the passage?
Chander Singh apologises as he is a tad late when he comes to pick up this writer in his new Swift Dzire. Singh has been a driver for many years; most recently with The Imperial, a heritage hotel in Delhi. He earned a lot from tips foreign tourists doled out, but was getting tired of polishing his shoes every morning - a demand from his managers he found hassling. Instead, he wanted to work on his own terms. So a few months ago he, along with a friend, bought a car on loan and started working for San Francisco-based cab hailing company Uber. He hopes he will make Rs. 25,000 a month on average. Uber, says Singh, also tops up with Rs. 300 per trip during peak hours. At the end of the trip, from Noida to South Delhi, Singh quips: “I am trying out Uber. If this doesn't work, I will go to Ola. I am also getting calls from Meru every day.”
All marketplaces have a choke point. In the case of e-tailers, it is the consumers whose appetite for discounts leads them to flame venture capital money. In the case of on-demand taxi aggregators such as Uber, Ola Cabs and Meru Cabs, it is the drivers. Taxi aggregators typically don’t own any cabs or employ drivers; they connect customers with drivers through a tech platform, the front-end for the customer being an app. According to one estimate, 1.6 million vehicles in India are licensed to run as cabs but there are not as many quality drivers. It is quite a task for aggregators to convince drivers - used to a mom-and-pop model or radio taxis - to work with them. And those who are available, like Singh, may not remain loyal to one company.
Securing the supply side has become a slugfest among India's top three on-demand taxi companies - ANI Technologies, which runs Ola , Uber and Meru - as they pour money to capture the market. Ola and Uber, particularly, backed by global venture capitalists, are threatening to make every other taxi company in India irrelevant. Home-bred Ola has thus far raised more than $700 million. Uber has mopped up $6 billion and has committed $1 billion for India in the next nine months. Both are using their war chest to offer incentives to drivers and discounted fares to riders. Traditional radio cabs and small-time operators are struggling to match up. The existential threat has made them cry out “market monopolisation”. Companies such as Meru, Carzonrent and Mega Cabs have thrown their collective might to regulate the "unregulated" on-demand companies. Legal tussles have greeted the aggregators.
Big money is making this battle worth fighting for. According to the Association of Radio Taxi India, the taxi business in the country is growing at 20 to 25 per cent a year. The organised taxi sector accounts for just four to five per cent of the industry and totals $800 million. It is expected to grow to $7 billion by 2020.
Q.Which of the following is an example of “market monopolisation”?
Chander Singh apologises as he is a tad late when he comes to pick up this writer in his new Swift Dzire. Singh has been a driver for many years; most recently with The Imperial, a heritage hotel in Delhi. He earned a lot from tips foreign tourists doled out, but was getting tired of polishing his shoes every morning - a demand from his managers he found hassling. Instead, he wanted to work on his own terms. So a few months ago he, along with a friend, bought a car on loan and started working for San Francisco-based cab hailing company Uber. He hopes he will make Rs. 25,000 a month on average. Uber, says Singh, also tops up with Rs. 300 per trip during peak hours. At the end of the trip, from Noida to South Delhi, Singh quips: “I am trying out Uber. If this doesn't work, I will go to Ola. I am also getting calls from Meru every day.”
All marketplaces have a choke point. In the case of e-tailers, it is the consumers whose appetite for discounts leads them to flame venture capital money. In the case of on-demand taxi aggregators such as Uber, Ola Cabs and Meru Cabs, it is the drivers. Taxi aggregators typically don’t own any cabs or employ drivers; they connect customers with drivers through a tech platform, the front-end for the customer being an app. According to one estimate, 1.6 million vehicles in India are licensed to run as cabs but there are not as many quality drivers. It is quite a task for aggregators to convince drivers - used to a mom-and-pop model or radio taxis - to work with them. And those who are available, like Singh, may not remain loyal to one company.
Securing the supply side has become a slugfest among India's top three on-demand taxi companies - ANI Technologies, which runs Ola , Uber and Meru - as they pour money to capture the market. Ola and Uber, particularly, backed by global venture capitalists, are threatening to make every other taxi company in India irrelevant. Home-bred Ola has thus far raised more than $700 million. Uber has mopped up $6 billion and has committed $1 billion for India in the next nine months. Both are using their war chest to offer incentives to drivers and discounted fares to riders. Traditional radio cabs and small-time operators are struggling to match up. The existential threat has made them cry out “market monopolisation”. Companies such as Meru, Carzonrent and Mega Cabs have thrown their collective might to regulate the "unregulated" on-demand companies. Legal tussles have greeted the aggregators.
Big money is making this battle worth fighting for. According to the Association of Radio Taxi India, the taxi business in the country is growing at 20 to 25 per cent a year. The organised taxi sector accounts for just four to five per cent of the industry and totals $800 million. It is expected to grow to $7 billion by 2020.
Q.According to the passage which of the following is/are difficulties faced by taxi aggregators?
1. Drivers with a fixed mindset
2. Drivers who have criminal records
3. Drivers who are dependable
Chander Singh apologises as he is a tad late when he comes to pick up this writer in his new Swift Dzire. Singh has been a driver for many years; most recently with The Imperial, a heritage hotel in Delhi. He earned a lot from tips foreign tourists doled out, but was getting tired of polishing his shoes every morning - a demand from his managers he found hassling. Instead, he wanted to work on his own terms. So a few months ago he, along with a friend, bought a car on loan and started working for San Francisco-based cab hailing company Uber. He hopes he will make Rs. 25,000 a month on average. Uber, says Singh, also tops up with Rs. 300 per trip during peak hours. At the end of the trip, from Noida to South Delhi, Singh quips: “I am trying out Uber. If this doesn't work, I will go to Ola. I am also getting calls from Meru every day.”
All marketplaces have a choke point. In the case of e-tailers, it is the consumers whose appetite for discounts leads them to flame venture capital money. In the case of on-demand taxi aggregators such as Uber, Ola Cabs and Meru Cabs, it is the drivers. Taxi aggregators typically don’t own any cabs or employ drivers; they connect customers with drivers through a tech platform, the front-end for the customer being an app. According to one estimate, 1.6 million vehicles in India are licensed to run as cabs but there are not as many quality drivers. It is quite a task for aggregators to convince drivers - used to a mom-and-pop model or radio taxis - to work with them. And those who are available, like Singh, may not remain loyal to one company.
Securing the supply side has become a slugfest among India's top three on-demand taxi companies - ANI Technologies, which runs Ola , Uber and Meru - as they pour money to capture the market. Ola and Uber, particularly, backed by global venture capitalists, are threatening to make every other taxi company in India irrelevant. Home-bred Ola has thus far raised more than $700 million. Uber has mopped up $6 billion and has committed $1 billion for India in the next nine months. Both are using their war chest to offer incentives to drivers and discounted fares to riders. Traditional radio cabs and small-time operators are struggling to match up. The existential threat has made them cry out “market monopolisation”. Companies such as Meru, Carzonrent and Mega Cabs have thrown their collective might to regulate the "unregulated" on-demand companies. Legal tussles have greeted the aggregators.
Big money is making this battle worth fighting for. According to the Association of Radio Taxi India, the taxi business in the country is growing at 20 to 25 per cent a year. The organised taxi sector accounts for just four to five per cent of the industry and totals $800 million. It is expected to grow to $7 billion by 2020.
Q."I am trying out Uber. If this doesn't work, I will go to Ola. I am also getting calls from Meru every day."
What can you conclude about the driver?
A. The driver has his options open.
B. The driver is hardworking.
C. The thriving taxi business benefits the driver.
D. Job opportunities are plenty for the driver.
Chander Singh apologises as he is a tad late when he comes to pick up this writer in his new Swift Dzire. Singh has been a driver for many years; most recently with The Imperial, a heritage hotel in Delhi. He earned a lot from tips foreign tourists doled out, but was getting tired of polishing his shoes every morning - a demand from his managers he found hassling. Instead, he wanted to work on his own terms. So a few months ago he, along with a friend, bought a car on loan and started working for San Francisco-based cab hailing company Uber. He hopes he will make Rs. 25,000 a month on average. Uber, says Singh, also tops up with Rs. 300 per trip during peak hours. At the end of the trip, from Noida to South Delhi, Singh quips: “I am trying out Uber. If this doesn't work, I will go to Ola. I am also getting calls from Meru every day.”
All marketplaces have a choke point. In the case of e-tailers, it is the consumers whose appetite for discounts leads them to flame venture capital money. In the case of on-demand taxi aggregators such as Uber, Ola Cabs and Meru Cabs, it is the drivers. Taxi aggregators typically don’t own any cabs or employ drivers; they connect customers with drivers through a tech platform, the front-end for the customer being an app. According to one estimate, 1.6 million vehicles in India are licensed to run as cabs but there are not as many quality drivers. It is quite a task for aggregators to convince drivers - used to a mom-and-pop model or radio taxis - to work with them. And those who are available, like Singh, may not remain loyal to one company.
Securing the supply side has become a slugfest among India's top three on-demand taxi companies - ANI Technologies, which runs Ola , Uber and Meru - as they pour money to capture the market. Ola and Uber, particularly, backed by global venture capitalists, are threatening to make every other taxi company in India irrelevant. Home-bred Ola has thus far raised more than $700 million. Uber has mopped up $6 billion and has committed $1 billion for India in the next nine months. Both are using their war chest to offer incentives to drivers and discounted fares to riders. Traditional radio cabs and small-time operators are struggling to match up. The existential threat has made them cry out “market monopolisation”. Companies such as Meru, Carzonrent and Mega Cabs have thrown their collective might to regulate the "unregulated" on-demand companies. Legal tussles have greeted the aggregators.
Big money is making this battle worth fighting for. According to the Association of Radio Taxi India, the taxi business in the country is growing at 20 to 25 per cent a year. The organised taxi sector accounts for just four to five per cent of the industry and totals $800 million. It is expected to grow to $7 billion by 2020.
Q.A suitable title for this passage would be:
Chander Singh apologises as he is a tad late when he comes to pick up this writer in his new Swift Dzire. Singh has been a driver for many years; most recently with The Imperial, a heritage hotel in Delhi. He earned a lot from tips foreign tourists doled out, but was getting tired of polishing his shoes every morning - a demand from his managers he found hassling. Instead, he wanted to work on his own terms. So a few months ago he, along with a friend, bought a car on loan and started working for San Francisco-based cab hailing company Uber. He hopes he will make Rs. 25,000 a month on average. Uber, says Singh, also tops up with Rs. 300 per trip during peak hours. At the end of the trip, from Noida to South Delhi, Singh quips: “I am trying out Uber. If this doesn't work, I will go to Ola. I am also getting calls from Meru every day.”
All marketplaces have a choke point. In the case of e-tailers, it is the consumers whose appetite for discounts leads them to flame venture capital money. In the case of on-demand taxi aggregators such as Uber, Ola Cabs and Meru Cabs, it is the drivers. Taxi aggregators typically don’t own any cabs or employ drivers; they connect customers with drivers through a tech platform, the front-end for the customer being an app. According to one estimate, 1.6 million vehicles in India are licensed to run as cabs but there are not as many quality drivers. It is quite a task for aggregators to convince drivers - used to a mom-and-pop model or radio taxis - to work with them. And those who are available, like Singh, may not remain loyal to one company.
Securing the supply side has become a slugfest among India's top three on-demand taxi companies - ANI Technologies, which runs Ola , Uber and Meru - as they pour money to capture the market. Ola and Uber, particularly, backed by global venture capitalists, are threatening to make every other taxi company in India irrelevant. Home-bred Ola has thus far raised more than $700 million. Uber has mopped up $6 billion and has committed $1 billion for India in the next nine months. Both are using their war chest to offer incentives to drivers and discounted fares to riders. Traditional radio cabs and small-time operators are struggling to match up. The existential threat has made them cry out “market monopolisation”. Companies such as Meru, Carzonrent and Mega Cabs have thrown their collective might to regulate the "unregulated" on-demand companies. Legal tussles have greeted the aggregators.
Big money is making this battle worth fighting for. According to the Association of Radio Taxi India, the taxi business in the country is growing at 20 to 25 per cent a year. The organised taxi sector accounts for just four to five per cent of the industry and totals $800 million. It is expected to grow to $7 billion by 2020.
Q.“Ola and Uber, particularly, backed by global venture capitalists, are threatening to make every other taxi company in India irrelevant.”
What can we assume from the above statement?
A passage is followed by questions pertaining to the passage. Read the passage and answer the questions. Choose the most appropriate answer.
Pulp magazines were inexpensive fiction magazines. The typical pulp magazine was seven inches wide by ten inches high, a half an inch thick, and 128 pages long. Pulps were printed on cheap paper with ragged, untrimmed edges.
In fact, the name "pulp" comes from the cheap wood pulp paper on which the magazines were printed. Magazines printed on better paper were called "glossies" or "slicks." Although many respected writers wrote for pulps, the magazines are best remembered for their lurid and exploitative stories and sensational cover art.
Pulp covers, printed in color on higher-quality (slick) paper, were famous for their half-dressed damsels in distress, usually awaiting a rescuing hero. Cover art played a major part in the marketing of pulp magazines, and a number of the most successful cover artists became as popular as the authors featured on the interior pages. Among the most famous pulp artists were Frank R. Paul and Virgil Finlay.
Later pulps began to feature interior illustrations, depicting elements of the stories. The drawings were printed in black ink on the same cream-colored paper used for the text, and had to use specific techniques to avoid blotting on the coarse texture of the cheap pulp. Thus, fine lines and heavy detail were usually not an option. Shading was by crosshatching or pointillism, and even that had to be limited and coarse. Usually the art was black lines on the paper's background, but Finlay and a few others did some work that was primarily white lines against large dark areas.
Q. what can we derive about glossies from the passage?
A passage is followed by questions pertaining to the passage. Read the passage and answer the questions. Choose the most appropriate answer.
Pulp magazines were inexpensive fiction magazines. The typical pulp magazine was seven inches wide by ten inches high, a half an inch thick, and 128 pages long. Pulps were printed on cheap paper with ragged, untrimmed edges.
In fact, the name "pulp" comes from the cheap wood pulp paper on which the magazines were printed. Magazines printed on better paper were called "glossies" or "slicks." Although many respected writers wrote for pulps, the magazines are best remembered for their lurid and exploitative stories and sensational cover art.
Pulp covers, printed in color on higher-quality (slick) paper, were famous for their half-dressed damsels in distress, usually awaiting a rescuing hero. Cover art played a major part in the marketing of pulp magazines, and a number of the most successful cover artists became as popular as the authors featured on the interior pages. Among the most famous pulp artists were Frank R. Paul and Virgil Finlay.
Later pulps began to feature interior illustrations, depicting elements of the stories. The drawings were printed in black ink on the same cream-colored paper used for the text, and had to use specific techniques to avoid blotting on the coarse texture of the cheap pulp. Thus, fine lines and heavy detail were usually not an option. Shading was by crosshatching or pointillism, and even that had to be limited and coarse. Usually the art was black lines on the paper's background, but Finlay and a few others did some work that was primarily white lines against large dark areas.
Q.Which of the following words comes closest in meaning to the word “lurid”?
A passage is followed by questions pertaining to the passage. Read the passage and answer the questions. Choose the most appropriate answer.
Pulp magazines were inexpensive fiction magazines. The typical pulp magazine was seven inches wide by ten inches high, a half an inch thick, and 128 pages long. Pulps were printed on cheap paper with ragged, untrimmed edges.
In fact, the name "pulp" comes from the cheap wood pulp paper on which the magazines were printed. Magazines printed on better paper were called "glossies" or "slicks." Although many respected writers wrote for pulps, the magazines are best remembered for their lurid and exploitative stories and sensational cover art.
Pulp covers, printed in color on higher-quality (slick) paper, were famous for their half-dressed damsels in distress, usually awaiting a rescuing hero. Cover art played a major part in the marketing of pulp magazines, and a number of the most successful cover artists became as popular as the authors featured on the interior pages. Among the most famous pulp artists were Frank R. Paul and Virgil Finlay.
Later pulps began to feature interior illustrations, depicting elements of the stories. The drawings were printed in black ink on the same cream-colored paper used for the text, and had to use specific techniques to avoid blotting on the coarse texture of the cheap pulp. Thus, fine lines and heavy detail were usually not an option. Shading was by crosshatching or pointillism, and even that had to be limited and coarse. Usually the art was black lines on the paper's background, but Finlay and a few others did some work that was primarily white lines against large dark areas.
Q.What do we learn about art on the inside pages of pulps?
Read the passage below and answer the questions that follow.
She’d wait to go to Le Pain Quotidien and pay? 200 for a sandwich. After 6pm, the day’s stock is discounted.
The office canteen offered meals all day that she could afford, but eating was a lower priority than keeping up the appearance that she could, when she chose to, do it at Le Pain Quotidien.
These are the urban poor. Objectively and relative to a vast majority of Indians, they aren’t “poor” at all. But they’re certainly hungry and broke a lot. These are the metro-dwelling twentysomethings who’ve internalised the pressures surrounding them, and spend a majority of their salaries on keeping up the lifestyles and appearances that they believe are essential to earning those salaries.
The expenses that rack up are notionally non-negotiable: the clothes and the grooming, the bar nights and office dinners, the Olas and Ubers you have to take because you’re networking until 1am, the Starbucks coffee you have to buy because that’s where your job interview is. The heels and the dresses.
As the bank balance crashes past zero by the 22nd of the month, they concede that the math may not work today, but they hold on to hope that it will work out in the end; when that increment comes, when the promotion arrives, when Dad sends a little extra one month. Their influences are not difficult to spot. Their startup economy’s success stories are of entrepreneurs who spent VC money to create their own wealth, who spent every paisa immediately to multiply each into a rupee. The stories they hear are of Mukesh Ambani, who inherited an empire and built a very expensive home, instead of Dhirubhai, who lived in a very small home and built a very big empire. They read about Katrina Kaif’s hair costing? 50 lakh to dye correctly. They internalise the lesson that to earn any money, you’ve got to spend a lot of it.
What we’re left with is a flood of twentysomethings running hard to leave behind roti-sabzi for a perception of burger-coke. From there, they sprint with equal abandon toward the cheese-champagne.
Q.According to the passage, the urban poor are:
1. not actually poor
2. young and clumsy
3. leading superficial lives
4. hopeful for success Which of the above are correct?
She’d wait to go to Le Pain Quotidien and pay? 200 for a sandwich. After 6pm, the day’s stock is discounted.
The office canteen offered meals all day that she could afford, but eating was a lower priority than keeping up the appearance that she could, when she chose to, do it at Le Pain Quotidien.
These are the urban poor. Objectively and relative to a vast majority of Indians, they aren’t “poor” at all. But they’re certainly hungry and broke a lot. These are the metro-dwelling twentysomethings who’ve internalised the pressures surrounding them, and spend a majority of their salaries on keeping up the lifestyles and appearances that they believe are essential to earning those salaries.
The expenses that rack up are notionally non-negotiable: the clothes and the grooming, the bar nights and office dinners, the Olas and Ubers you have to take because you’re networking until 1am, the Starbucks coffee you have to buy because that’s where your job interview is. The heels and the dresses.
As the bank balance crashes past zero by the 22nd of the month, they concede that the math may not work today, but they hold on to hope that it will work out in the end; when that increment comes, when the promotion arrives, when Dad sends a little extra one month. Their influences are not difficult to spot. Their startup economy’s success stories are of entrepreneurs who spent VC money to create their own wealth, who spent every paisa immediately to multiply each into a rupee. The stories they hear are of Mukesh Ambani, who inherited an empire and built a very expensive home, instead of Dhirubhai, who lived in a very small home and built a very big empire. They read about Katrina Kaif’s hair costing? 50 lakh to dye correctly. They internalise the lesson that to earn any money, you’ve got to spend a lot of it.
What we’re left with is a flood of twentysomethings running hard to leave behind roti-sabzi for a perception of burger-coke. From there, they sprint with equal abandon toward the cheese-champagne.
Q.“As the bank balance crashes past zero by the 22nd of the month..”
The above statement implies that:
She’d wait to go to Le Pain Quotidien and pay? 200 for a sandwich. After 6pm, the day’s stock is discounted.
The office canteen offered meals all day that she could afford, but eating was a lower priority than keeping up the appearance that she could, when she chose to, do it at Le Pain Quotidien.
These are the urban poor. Objectively and relative to a vast majority of Indians, they aren’t “poor” at all. But they’re certainly hungry and broke a lot. These are the metro-dwelling twentysomethings who’ve internalised the pressures surrounding them, and spend a majority of their salaries on keeping up the lifestyles and appearances that they believe are essential to earning those salaries.
The expenses that rack up are notionally non-negotiable: the clothes and the grooming, the bar nights and office dinners, the Olas and Ubers you have to take because you’re networking until 1am, the Starbucks coffee you have to buy because that’s where your job interview is. The heels and the dresses.
As the bank balance crashes past zero by the 22nd of the month, they concede that the math may not work today, but they hold on to hope that it will work out in the end; when that increment comes, when the promotion arrives, when Dad sends a little extra one month. Their influences are not difficult to spot. Their startup economy’s success stories are of entrepreneurs who spent VC money to create their own wealth, who spent every paisa immediately to multiply each into a rupee. The stories they hear are of Mukesh Ambani, who inherited an empire and built a very expensive home, instead of Dhirubhai, who lived in a very small home and built a very big empire. They read about Katrina Kaif’s hair costing? 50 lakh to dye correctly. They internalise the lesson that to earn any money, you’ve got to spend a lot of it.
What we’re left with is a flood of twentysomethings running hard to leave behind roti-sabzi for a perception of burger-coke. From there, they sprint with equal abandon toward the cheese-champagne.
Q.The author gives the example of Ambani father-son, for his readers to understand that:
She’d wait to go to Le Pain Quotidien and pay? 200 for a sandwich. After 6pm, the day’s stock is discounted.
The office canteen offered meals all day that she could afford, but eating was a lower priority than keeping up the appearance that she could, when she chose to, do it at Le Pain Quotidien.
These are the urban poor. Objectively and relative to a vast majority of Indians, they aren’t “poor” at all. But they’re certainly hungry and broke a lot. These are the metro-dwelling twentysomethings who’ve internalised the pressures surrounding them, and spend a majority of their salaries on keeping up the lifestyles and appearances that they believe are essential to earning those salaries.
The expenses that rack up are notionally non-negotiable: the clothes and the grooming, the bar nights and office dinners, the Olas and Ubers you have to take because you’re networking until 1am, the Starbucks coffee you have to buy because that’s where your job interview is. The heels and the dresses.
As the bank balance crashes past zero by the 22nd of the month, they concede that the math may not work today, but they hold on to hope that it will work out in the end; when that increment comes, when the promotion arrives, when Dad sends a little extra one month. Their influences are not difficult to spot. Their startup economy’s success stories are of entrepreneurs who spent VC money to create their own wealth, who spent every paisa immediately to multiply each into a rupee. The stories they hear are of Mukesh Ambani, who inherited an empire and built a very expensive home, instead of Dhirubhai, who lived in a very small home and built a very big empire. They read about Katrina Kaif’s hair costing? 50 lakh to dye correctly. They internalise the lesson that to earn any money, you’ve got to spend a lot of it.
What we’re left with is a flood of twentysomethings running hard to leave behind roti-sabzi for a perception of burger-coke. From there, they sprint with equal abandon toward the cheese-champagne.
Q.What can you definitely say about Le Pain Quotidien from the information in the passage?
She’d wait to go to Le Pain Quotidien and pay? 200 for a sandwich. After 6pm, the day’s stock is discounted.
The office canteen offered meals all day that she could afford, but eating was a lower priority than keeping up the appearance that she could, when she chose to, do it at Le Pain Quotidien.
These are the urban poor. Objectively and relative to a vast majority of Indians, they aren’t “poor” at all. But they’re certainly hungry and broke a lot. These are the metro-dwelling twentysomethings who’ve internalised the pressures surrounding them, and spend a majority of their salaries on keeping up the lifestyles and appearances that they believe are essential to earning those salaries.
The expenses that rack up are notionally non-negotiable: the clothes and the grooming, the bar nights and office dinners, the Olas and Ubers you have to take because you’re networking until 1am, the Starbucks coffee you have to buy because that’s where your job interview is. The heels and the dresses.
As the bank balance crashes past zero by the 22nd of the month, they concede that the math may not work today, but they hold on to hope that it will work out in the end; when that increment comes, when the promotion arrives, when Dad sends a little extra one month. Their influences are not difficult to spot. Their startup economy’s success stories are of entrepreneurs who spent VC money to create their own wealth, who spent every paisa immediately to multiply each into a rupee. The stories they hear are of Mukesh Ambani, who inherited an empire and built a very expensive home, instead of Dhirubhai, who lived in a very small home and built a very big empire. They read about Katrina Kaif’s hair costing? 50 lakh to dye correctly. They internalise the lesson that to earn any money, you’ve got to spend a lot of it.
What we’re left with is a flood of twentysomethings running hard to leave behind roti-sabzi for a perception of burger-coke. From there, they sprint with equal abandon toward the cheese-champagne.
Q.Which of the following strengthens the point of view of the urban poor?