752 English questions asked in BPSC TRE previous year papers, each with the correct answer and explanation. Read them free on UTpaper, or attempt the full papers as timed online tests.
Directions (Q. Nos. 141 – 145): In this section each sentence consists of a word or a phrase which is underlined. Select the word of phrase which is closely opposite in meaning to the underlined word or phrase :
He glanced through the letter perfunctorily. (underlined: perfunctorily)
ACeremoniously
Bpoorly
CCarefully
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (C) Carefully
Explanation
'Perfunctorily' means carelessly, so its opposite is 'carefully'.
Directions (Q. Nos. 141 – 145): In this section each sentence consists of a word or a phrase which is underlined. Select the word of phrase which is closely opposite in meaning to the underlined word or phrase :
He was exhausted by the efforts on the field. (underlined: exhausted)
Afatigued
Btired
Cbroken
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (E) None of the above
Explanation
'Exhausted' is close in meaning to fatigued, tired and broken; none of the options is an opposite.
Directions (Q. Nos. 141 – 145): In this section each sentence consists of a word or a phrase which is underlined. Select the word of phrase which is closely opposite in meaning to the underlined word or phrase :
The man was reprimanded by his family for stealing. (underlined: reprimanded)
Aabused
Bscolded
Cpraised
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (C) praised
Explanation
'Reprimanded' means scolded, so the opposite is 'praised'.
Directions (Q. Nos. 141 – 145): In this section each sentence consists of a word or a phrase which is underlined. Select the word of phrase which is closely opposite in meaning to the underlined word or phrase :
The speaker had a superficial knowledge of the subject. (underlined: superficial)
ADeep
BArtificial
Cneutral
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (A) Deep
Explanation
'Superficial' means shallow, so the opposite is 'deep'.
Directions (Q. Nos. 146 – 150): Read each sentence to find out whether there is any error in it. The error, if any, will be in one part of the sentence. The alphabet number of that part is the answer. If there is an error in more than one part then the answer is (d). If there is no error in any part then the answer is (e).
Bangladesh exports a lot of garment (a) / to the Western countries (b) / at a cheap rates. (c)
APart (a): Bangladesh exports a lot of garment
BPart (b): to the Western countries
CPart (c): at a cheap rates.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (C) Part (c): at a cheap rates.
Explanation
'At a cheap rates' is wrong; it should be 'at cheap rates' or 'at a cheap rate', so the error is in part (c).
Directions (Q. Nos. 146 – 150): Read each sentence to find out whether there is any error in it. The error, if any, will be in one part of the sentence. The alphabet number of that part is the answer. If there is an error in more than one part then the answer is (d). If there is no error in any part then the answer is (e).
It was evident (a) / to me that there was any mistake (b) / in that account. (c)
APart (a): It was evident
BPart (b): to me that there was any mistake
CPart (c): in that account.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) Part (b): to me that there was any mistake
Explanation
'Any mistake' should be 'a mistake' after 'there was', so the error is in part (b).
Directions (Q. Nos. 146 – 150): Read each sentence to find out whether there is any error in it. The error, if any, will be in one part of the sentence. The alphabet number of that part is the answer. If there is an error in more than one part then the answer is (d). If there is no error in any part then the answer is (e).
The conference was (a) / attending by some very (b) / distinguished speakers. (c)
APart (a): The conference was
BPart (b): attending by some very
CPart (c): distinguished speakers.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) Part (b): attending by some very
Explanation
The passive 'was attended' is needed; 'was attending' is wrong, so the error is in part (b).
Directions (Q. Nos. 146 – 150): Read each sentence to find out whether there is any error in it. The error, if any, will be in one part of the sentence. The alphabet number of that part is the answer. If there is an error in more than one part then the answer is (d). If there is no error in any part then the answer is (e).
This is one of the most (a) / interesting book (b) / I have ever read. (c)
APart (a): This is one of the most
BPart (b): interesting book
CPart (c): I have ever read.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) Part (b): interesting book
Explanation
After 'one of the most' a plural is needed ('interesting books'), so the error is in part (b).
Directions (Q. Nos. 146 – 150): Read each sentence to find out whether there is any error in it. The error, if any, will be in one part of the sentence. The alphabet number of that part is the answer. If there is an error in more than one part then the answer is (d). If there is no error in any part then the answer is (e).
No monument in the world (a) / is so beautifully (b) / as the Taj Mahal of Agra. (c)
APart (a): No monument in the world
BPart (b): is so beautifully
CPart (c): as the Taj Mahal of Agra.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) Part (b): is so beautifully
Explanation
After 'is so' the adjective 'beautiful' is needed, not the adverb 'beautifully', so the error is in part (b).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Why was the grandmother listless that night?
AShe was unwell
BShe was too old
CShe was anxious
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (C) She was anxious
Explanation
The passage says Granny was not her usual chirpy self and seemed agitated over something, i.e. anxious, so (C) is right.
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
How best can one describe the character of the storyteller?
AGarrulous and cantankerous old woman
BCheerful and lively old lady
CIndolent and grumpy old lady
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) Cheerful and lively old lady
Explanation
She is shown as normally cheerful and lively (chirpy) and loves telling stories, so (B) best describes her.
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
What does the term ‘hearth-fire’ indicate?
AFireplace
BStove
CGrate
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (D) More than one of the above
Explanation
The hearth is the floor of a fireplace, so 'hearth-fire' means the fire in a fireplace; more than one of the listed words (fireplace, grate) can express this, which is why the key is (D).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
What was so special about ‘that night’?
AIt was a stormy night with incessant thunder and rain
BIt was that fateful night when a peculiar wind blew
CIt was a silent night when the moon had a lurid glow
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) It was that fateful night when a peculiar wind blew
Explanation
The old woman says that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows from the graveyard, and tonight was that night, so (B) is correct.
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
What is the trajectory that the song takes in the story?
AThe song arises from the graveyard filling the whole village and disappears beyond human habitation
BThe song arises from the graveyard filling the whole village with good cheer and dissipates into nothingness
CThe song arises from the graveyard filling the whole village with sadness and fades away gradually
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (A) The song arises from the graveyard filling the whole village and disappears beyond human habitation
Explanation
The song arises from the graveyard, fills the village and then whirls away beyond human habitation; only (A) says this.
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Why do listeners gather to hear stories at night in remote villages upon the hills of North-East India?
AThey are engaged in factories and offices during the day
BThey are engaged in their farms, collection of fire-wood and water, and other mundane affairs
CThey are engaged in the textile and mining industry
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (E) None of the above
Explanation
None of the offered reasons is stated in the passage (it only mentions students visiting in the winter holidays), so (E) None of the above.
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Pick out a synonym for the word ‘rebuke’ from the extract.
AChastised
BAgitated
CRavaged
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (A) Chastised
Explanation
To 'rebuke' is to scold; the passage says the old woman rebukes them and they 'feel chastised', so 'chastised' (A) is the synonym.
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Which word in the story indicates supernatural elements?
AEerie
BUncanny
CUneasy
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (D) More than one of the above
Explanation
'Eerie' and 'uncanny' both suggest the supernatural, so more than one option fits, i.e. (D).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Describe the look on the storyteller’s face when they all clearly hear the tune of the song.
AStunned
BAlive and animated
CPuzzled
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) Alive and animated
Explanation
After the tune is heard the storyteller has a peculiar glow on her face and seems 'more alive and animated', so (B) is right.
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
How would you describe the listeners?
AAs casual and irresponsible
BAs carefree and light-hearted
CAs polite and considerate
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (C) As polite and considerate
Explanation
The listeners are young people who come willingly to hear the stories and listen respectfully, so the key picks (C) polite and considerate.
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
What is the role of the storyteller in Naga society?
AA bearer of traditional lore
BA bearer of history
CA bearer of truth
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (D) More than one of the above
Explanation
The storyteller passes on traditional lore, history and truth to the young, so more than one option is correct: (D).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Which colloquial word is an equivalent of the term ‘grandmother’ that has been used in the extract?
AGrandma
BGranny
CMatriarch
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) Granny
Explanation
'Granny' is the colloquial word for grandmother used in the extract, so (B).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Why does the storyteller feel that the ‘youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind’?
AAs they are skeptical
BAs they are inattentive
CAs they are disbelievers
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (D) More than one of the above
Explanation
She says they have forgotten how to listen because they do not pay attention; more than one option (skeptical, inattentive, disbelievers) can fit, so (D).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
What is the initial note of the song compared to in the extract of the story?
AA hymn
BBlowing of a peculiar wind
CA low hum
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (A) A hymn
Explanation
The wind is said to sound like a hymn, and the song's beginning is first compared to that hymn-like sound, so the key gives (A).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Pick up an equivalent of the word ‘cadence’ or ‘rhythm’ from the extract of the story.
AHum
BLilt
CTune
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (D) More than one of the above
Explanation
'Cadence' or 'rhythm' can be matched by hum, lilt or tune in the extract; more than one fits, so (D).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Which phrase in the extract of the story describes the feeling of surprise or astonishment with reference to the storyteller?
APeculiar glow on her face
BMore alive and animated
CAs though seeing them for the first time
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (C) As though seeing them for the first time
Explanation
'As though seeing them for the first time' shows her surprise at their ignorance of Apenyo, so (C).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
The narrator seemed out of joint because
Ashe was unwell
Bshe was listless
Cshe was trapped in dark thoughts
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (C) she was trapped in dark thoughts
Explanation
The old woman was unusually listless and agitated, brooding over the dark memory of the Black Sunday, so (C) trapped in dark thoughts.
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Which phrase in the extract is a close equivalent of ‘pin-drop silence’?
ADeath-like silence
BHaunted silence
CIcy silence
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (A) Death-like silence
Explanation
'Pin-drop silence' corresponds to 'death-like silence' used in the extract, so (A).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
What made the listeners ‘skeptical’?
AThey were educated
BThey were rational
CThey could hear nothing
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (D) More than one of the above
Explanation
The youngsters are skeptical because they think such things are not possible and cannot hear anything; the key accepts (D) (more than one reading fits).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Which elemental feeling is most prominent in the story?
ATragic
BElegiac
CGhostly
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) Elegiac
Explanation
A story of army atrocities and a doomed singer is dominated by sorrow and lament; the key gives (B) Elegiac.
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Which word in the extract is closest in meaning to the phrase ‘whips around’?
AWhirling
BHover
CBlows
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (E) None of the above
Explanation
None of the listed words (whirling, hover, blows) means 'turns around sharply', so (E) None of the above.
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Why is the narrator described as ‘chirpy’?
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
What memories did the song bring back to the narrator and the listeners?
AAnniversary of that dreadful Sunday
BDeath anniversary of Apenyo
CAn incidence of violence
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (A) Anniversary of that dreadful Sunday
Explanation
The song brought back the anniversary of the dreadful Sunday of army atrocities, so (A).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Why is that particular day referred to as ‘Black Sunday’?
ADeath of Apenyo and atrocities suffered by the villagers on a certain Sunday
BReligious associations with the crucifixion of Lord Jesus Christ
CAtrocities suffered by the villagers on a certain Sunday
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (A) Death of Apenyo and atrocities suffered by the villagers on a certain Sunday
Explanation
It is called 'Black Sunday' for Apenyo's death and the atrocities the villagers suffered that Sunday, so (A).
questions that follow. It is a cold night in December and in a remote village, an old storyteller is sitting by
the hearth-fire with a group of students who have come home for the winter holidays. They love visiting her to listen to her stories, but tonight Granny is not her usual chirpy self; she looks much older and seems to be agitated over something. One of the boys asks her whether she is not feeling well and tells her that if so, they can come back another night. But instead of answering the question, the old woman starts talking and tells them that on a certain night a peculiar wind blows through the village, which seems to start from the region of the graveyard and which sounds like a hymn. She also tells them that tonight is that kind of a night. At first the youngsters are skeptical and tell her that they cannot hear anything and that such things are not possible, but the old woman rebukes them by saying that they are not paying attention to what is happening around them. She tells them that youngsters of today have forgotten how to listen to the voice of the earth and the wind. They feel chastised and make a show of straining their ears to listen more attentively and to their utter surprise, they hear the beginning of a low hum in the distance. They listen for some time and tell her, almost in triumph, that they can hear only an eerie sound. ‘No’, the storyteller almost shouts, ‘Listen carefully. Tonight is the anniversary of that dreadful Sunday.’ There is a death-like silence in the room and some of them begin to look uneasy because they too had heard vague rumours of army atrocities that took place in the village on a Sunday long before they were born. Storyteller and audience strain to listen more attentively and suddenly a strange thing happens : as the wind whirls past the house, it increases in volume and for the briefest of moments, seems to hover above the house. Then it resumes its whirling as though hurrying away to other regions beyond human habitation. The young people are stunned because they hear the new element in the volume and a certain uncanny lilt lingers on in the wake of its departure. The old woman jumps up from her seat and looking at each one in turn asks, ‘You heard it, didn’t you? Didn’t I tell you? It was Apenyo’s last song’ and she hums a tune softly, almost to herself. The youngsters cannot deny that they heard the note but are puzzled because they do not know what she is talking about. As the old woman stands apart humming the tune, they look at her with wonder. There is a peculiar glow on her face and she seems to have changed into a new self, more alive and animated than earlier. After a while a young girl timidly approaches her and asks, ‘Grandmother, what are you talking about? Whose last song?’
The old storyteller whips around and surveys the group as though seeing them for the first time. She then heaves a deep sigh and with infinite sadness in her voice, spreads her arms wide and whispers, ‘You have not heard about that song? You do not know about Apenyo? Then come and listen carefully ...’
Thus, on a cold December night in a remote village, an old storyteller gathers the young of the land around the leaping flames of a hearth and squats on the bare earth among them to pass on the story of that Black Sunday when a young and beautiful singer sang her last song even as one more Naga village began weeping for her ravaged and ruined children.
[An extract from ‘The Last Song’ in These Hills Called Home, by Temsula Ao, Penguin Books, New Delhi : 2006, p.31–33]
Why do you think the narrator ‘squats on the bare earth’?
AShe was too poor to have furniture
BShe didn’t like sitting on stools and chairs
CIt was a common way of sitting by the village folk of Nagaland
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
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Correct answer: (C) It was a common way of sitting by the village folk of Nagaland
Explanation
Squatting on the bare earth among the young is a common way of sitting among village folk in Nagaland, so (C).
Directions (Q. Nos. 66 to 75) : Read each of the following sentences to find out whether there is an error or errors in any underlined part(s). If you feel that there is no error in a sentence, write (E) to signify ‘None of the above’.
(A) Distribute these (B) mangoes between all (C) the fifty students.
ADistribute these
Bmangoes between all
Cthe fifty students.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
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Correct answer: (B) mangoes between all
Explanation
'Between' is used for two; for more than two persons or things we say 'among', so the error is in (B).
Directions (Q. Nos. 66 to 75) : Read each of the following sentences to find out whether there is an error or errors in any underlined part(s). If you feel that there is no error in a sentence, write (E) to signify ‘None of the above’.
(A) Unless you don’t (B) work hard, (C) you can’t get success.
AUnless you don’t
Bwork hard,
Cyou can’t get success.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (A) Unless you don’t
Explanation
'Unless' already carries a negative sense, so 'Unless you don't work hard' is wrong; the error is in (A).
Directions (Q. Nos. 66 to 75) : Read each of the following sentences to find out whether there is an error or errors in any underlined part(s). If you feel that there is no error in a sentence, write (E) to signify ‘None of the above’.
(A) Start early, (B) lest you should (C) miss the train.
AStart early,
Blest you should
Cmiss the train.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
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Correct answer: (E) None of the above
Explanation
'Lest you should miss the train' is correct usage (lest + should), so there is no error: (E).
Directions (Q. Nos. 66 to 75) : Read each of the following sentences to find out whether there is an error or errors in any underlined part(s). If you feel that there is no error in a sentence, write (E) to signify ‘None of the above’.
(A) He talked (B) as if he (C) was a mad.
AHe talked
Bas if he
Cwas a mad.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
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Correct answer: (C) was a mad.
Explanation
'as if he was a mad' wrongly uses the article 'a' before the adjective 'mad'; the error is in (C).
Directions (Q. Nos. 66 to 75) : Read each of the following sentences to find out whether there is an error or errors in any underlined part(s). If you feel that there is no error in a sentence, write (E) to signify ‘None of the above’.
(A) My watch, (B) which was damaged (C) is now useless.
AMy watch,
Bwhich was damaged
Cis now useless.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
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Correct answer: (E) None of the above
Explanation
The sentence is grammatically correct, so (E) None of the above (no error).
Directions (Q. Nos. 66 to 75) : Read each of the following sentences to find out whether there is an error or errors in any underlined part(s). If you feel that there is no error in a sentence, write (E) to signify ‘None of the above’.
(A) She ought (B) to have obey (C) her parents.
AShe ought
Bto have obey
Cher parents.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) to have obey
Explanation
After 'ought to have' the past participle is needed: 'to have obeyed', so the error is in (B).
Directions (Q. Nos. 66 to 75) : Read each of the following sentences to find out whether there is an error or errors in any underlined part(s). If you feel that there is no error in a sentence, write (E) to signify ‘None of the above’.
(A) You will get wet (B) if you will (C) go out in the rain.
AYou will get wet
Bif you will
Cgo out in the rain.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) if you will
Explanation
In a conditional clause the future 'will' is not used: 'if you go out', so the error is in (B).
Directions (Q. Nos. 66 to 75) : Read each of the following sentences to find out whether there is an error or errors in any underlined part(s). If you feel that there is no error in a sentence, write (E) to signify ‘None of the above’.
(A) He is one (B) of greatest (C) leader of my country.
AHe is one
Bof greatest
Cleader of my country.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (D) More than one of the above
Explanation
The correct form is 'one of the greatest leaders'; both (B) 'of greatest' and (C) 'leader' are wrong, so (D).
Directions (Q. Nos. 66 to 75) : Read each of the following sentences to find out whether there is an error or errors in any underlined part(s). If you feel that there is no error in a sentence, write (E) to signify ‘None of the above’.
(A) Neither you (B) nor he (C) are guilty.
ANeither you
Bnor he
Care guilty.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (C) are guilty.
Explanation
With 'neither ... nor' the verb agrees with the nearer subject 'he': 'is guilty', so the error is in (C) 'are guilty'.
Directions (Q. Nos. 66 to 75) : Read each of the following sentences to find out whether there is an error or errors in any underlined part(s). If you feel that there is no error in a sentence, write (E) to signify ‘None of the above’.
(A) Neither of the (B) three pens (C) will do.
ANeither of the
Bthree pens
Cwill do.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (D) More than one of the above
Explanation
'Neither' refers to two; for three items we say 'none of the three pens', so the error lies in more than one part: (D).
Her husband died. She heard the news. She fainted. (Use a preposition with a noun or gerund to join the sentences)
AShe fainted when she heard the news of her husband’s death.
BOn hearing the news of her husband’s death she fainted.
CAs soon as she heard the news of her husband’s death she fainted.
DMore than one of the above
ENone of the above
Show answerHide answer
Correct answer: (B) On hearing the news of her husband’s death she fainted.
Explanation
Preposition + noun/gerund: 'On hearing the news of her husband's death she fainted', option (B).
How to use these BPSC TRE English questions
Every question here was asked in a real BPSC TRE paper; the paper and shift are shown on the card, and the number opens the question on its own page. Try each one before tapping Show answer, then attempt the full BPSC TRE papers as timed tests to check your speed under exam conditions.