What happened in 1963? ?->(Show Answer!)

1. What happened in 1963?

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MCQ-> Read the following passage carefully and answer the question given below it.Certain words/phrases have been printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions.Once upon a time a dishonest King had a man call the Valuer in his court. The Valuer set the price which ought to be paid for horses and elephants and the other animals.He also set the price on jewellery and gold.and things of that kind.This man was honest and just and set the proper price to be paid to the owners of the goods.The King however was not pleased with this Valuer because he was honest ‘If I had another sort of a man as Valuer I might gain more riches, he thought One day the King saw a stupid miserly peasant come into the place yard.The King sent for the fellow and asked him if he would like to be Valuer.The peasant said he would like the position.So the King had him made Valuer He sent the honest Valuer away from the place.Then the peasant began to set the prices on horses and elephants upon gold and jewels.He did not know their value so he would say anything he chose.As the King had made him Valuer the People had to sell their goods for the price he set. By and by a horse-dealer brought five hundred horses to the court of this King.The Valuer came and said they were worth a mere measure of rice and the horses to be put in the palace stables. The horse-dealer went then to see the honest man who had been the Valuer and told him what had happened.’What shall I do ?’ asked the horses-dealer “I think you can give a present to the Valuer which will make him “Go to him and give him a fine present then say to him You said the horses are worth a measure of rice,but now tell what a measure of rice is worth ! Can you value that standing in your place by the King ?’ If he says he can go with him to the King and I will be there too” The horses-dealer thought this was a good idea.So he took a fine present to the Valuer and said what the other man had told him to say.The stupid Valuer took the present,and said,”Yes, I can go before the King with you and tell what a measure of rice is worth.I can go before the King with you and tell what a measure of rice is worth. I can value now. Well let us go at once” said the horses-dealer.So they went before the king and his ministers in the palace.The horses-dealer bowed down before the King and said “O King I have learned that a measure of rice is the value of my five hundred horses.But will the King be pleased to ask the Valuer what had happened asked,How now Valuer what are five hundred horses worth ? “A measure of rice O King !” said he “very good then ! If five hundred horses are worth a measure of rice what is the measure of rice worth ?” The measure of rice is worth your whole city” replied the foolish fellow The minister clapped their hands laughing and saying “What a foolish Valuer! How can such a man hold that office ? We used to think this great city was beyond price but this man says it is worth only a measure of rice.Then the King was ashamed and drove out the foolish fellow “I tried to please the King by setting a low price on the horses and now see what has happened to me !’ said the Valuer as he ran away from the laughing crowd.Who did the King appoint as the new Valuer ?
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MCQ->What happened in 1963?....

MCQ-> Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below it. Certain words/phrases have been printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions. Once upon a time there was a King of Benaras who was very rich. He had many servants and a beautiful palace with wonderful gardens; he had chariots and a stable full of horses. But his most prized possession was a magnificent elephant called Mahaghiri. She was as tall as two men, and her skin was of the colour of thunder clouds. She had large flapping ears and small, bright eyes and she was very clever. Mahaghiri lived in her own special elephant house and had her own keeper, Rajinder. The King would often visit Mahaghiri to take her some special tit-bit to eat and check that Rajinder was looking after her properly. But Rajinder needed no reminding, for he also loved the elephant dearly, and trusted her completely. Every morning, he would take her down to the river for her bath. Then he would bring her freshly cut grass, leaves and the finest fruits he could find in the market for her breakfast. During the day, he would talk to her and, in the evening, he would play his flute to send her to sleep. One morning, Rajinder arrived as usual with fruit for Mahaghiri’s breakfast. Suddenly, before he knew what was happening, she picked him up with her trunk and threw him out of the stall, breaking his arm. She began to stamp on the ground and trumpet so loudly that it took several strong men all morning to bind her with ropes and chains, When the king heard about what had happened, he was very upset and sent for the doctor to help Rajinder. Then he called for his chief minister. “You must go and see Mahaghiri at once,” he said. “She used to be so kind and gentle, but this morning she threw her keeper out of her stall. I can’t understand it. She must be ill or in pain. Spare no expense in finding a cure.” So the chief minister went to see Mahaghiri. who was still bound firmly with ropes. First he looked at her eyes – they were as clear and bright as usual. Then he felt behind her ears – her temperature was normal. Next he listened to her heart that was fine too – and checked all over for cuts or sores. He could find nothing wrong with her. “Strange,” he thought. “I can find no explanation for her bad behaviour.”But then his eye was caught by something gleaming in the straw. It was a sharp, curved knife, like the ones used by robbers. Could there be a connection? That night, when everyone else had gone to bed, the chief minister returned to the elephant house. There, in the stall next to Mahaghiri’s, sat a band of robbers. “Tonight we’ll burgle the palace,” said the chief. “First, we’ll make a hole in the wall, then we’ll steal the treasure. “But what about the guards?” someone asked. “Don’t tell me you’re still afraid to kill! When will you learn to be a real robber?” From the shadows, the minister could see the elephant, her ears pinned back, listening to every hateful and violent word.”Just as I suspected,” thought the minister. Then he slipped out, bolted the door on the outside so the robbers could not escape, and went immediately to the king.”Your majesty,” he said, “I think I have found the cause of your elephant’s bad behaviour.” As soon as the king heard what the minister had to say, he sent for his guards and had the robbers arrested. “But what about the elephant? How can she be cured?’ he asked. “Well, your majesty, if Mahaghiri became dangerous through being.in the company of those wicked robbers, perhaps she could be cured by being in the company of good people.” “What a brilliant idea!” exclaimed the king. “Let us invite the friendliest, happiest and kindest people in the city to meet in the stall next to the elephant.” “Mahaghiri, the king’s most prized elephant, has been in bad company and has become violent and dangerous,” the minister told his friends. “Will you help her to become her old self again?””Of course,” they replied. “What do you want us to do?” “Just meet in the elephant house every day for the next week. Let her hear how kindly and thoughtfully you speak to each other, and how helpful you are.” So the minister’s friends met in the elephant house as planned. They talked together and enjoyed each other’s company. Sometimes they brought cakes and sweets to share; sometimes their children came and played happily in the straw. All the while, Mahaghiri watched and listened. Gradually, she became calmer. “I think it’s working,” said the minister. “Soon we’ll be able to remove the ropes.” Everyone felt a bit nervous when the day came for Mahaghiri to be untied. The king ordered everyone to wait outside as, very carefully, brave Rajinder began to undo the ropes around her ears and trunk. Next he removed the ropes holding her head. Finally, he loosened the thick chains holding her great feet. Everyone held their breath. What if she was still wild?Mahaghiri looked round shuffling her feet to stretch them. Then she slowly curled her trunk around her keeper’s waist and lifted him high into the air before placing him gently on her back. A great cheer went up. The king was delighted. “Let’s have a picnic to celebrate,” he announced. “Mahaghiri can come too.” What a great afternoon they all had! Mahaghiri bathed in the lake and gave the children rides. It seemed as though she had now become kinder, gentler and even more trustworthy than ever. But Rajinder never forgot what had happened and was always careful to set Mahaghiri a good example by being kind and friendly himself.As per the context of passage, what was the most prized possession of the king of Benaras ?
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MCQ-> Read the passage given below and answer the questions that follow it:There are no Commandments in art and no easy axioms for art appreciation. “Do I like this?” is the question anyone should ask themselves at the moment of confrontation with the picture. But if “yes,” why “yes”? and if “no,” why “no”? The obvious direct emotional response is never simple, and ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the “yes” or “no” has nothing at all to do with the picture in its own right. “I don’t understand this poem” and “I don’t like this picture” are statements that tell us something about the speaker. That should be obvious, but in fact, such statements are offered as criticisms of art, as evidence against, not least because the ignorant, the lazy, or the plain confused are not likely to want to admit themselves as such. We hear a lot about the arrogance of the artist but nothing about the arrogance of the audience. The audience, who have given no thought to the medium or the method, will glance up, flick through, chatter over the opening chords, then snap their fingers and walk away like some monstrous Roman tyrant. This is not arrogance; of course, they can absorb in a few moments, and without any effort, the sum of the artist and the art.Admire me is the sub-text of so much of our looking; the demand put on art that it should reflect the reality of the viewer. The true painting, in its stubborn independence, cannot do this, except coincidentally. Its reality is imaginative not mundane.When the thick curtain of protection is taken away; protection of prejudice, protection of authority, protection of trivia, even the most familiar of paintings can begin to work its power. There are very few people who could manage an hour alone with the Mona Lisa. Our poor art-lover in his aesthetic laboratory has not succeeded in freeing himself from the protection of assumption. What he has found is that the painting objects to his lack of concentration; his failure to meet intensity with intensity. He still has not discovered anything about the painting, but the painting has discovered a lot about him. He is inadequate, and the painting has told him so.When you say “This work is boring/ pointless/silly/obscure/élitist etc.,” you might be right, because you are looking at a fad, or you might be wrong because the work falls so outside of the safety of your own experience that in order to keep your own world intact, you must deny the other world of the painting. This denial of imaginative experience happens at a deeper level than our affirmation of our daily world. Every day, in countless ways, you and I convince ourselves about ourselves. True art, when it happens to us, challenges the “I” that we are and you say, “This work has nothing to do with me.”Art is not a little bit of evolution that late-twentieth-century city dwellers can safely do without. Strictly, art does not belong to our evolutionary pattern at all. It has no biological necessity. Time taken up with it was time lost to hunting, gathering, mating, exploring, building, surviving, thriving. We say we have no time for art. If we say that art, all art. is no longer relevant to our lives, then we might at least risk the question “What has happened to our lives?” The usual question, “What has happened to art?” is too easy an escape route.A young man visits a critically acclaimed modern art exhibition in his city and finds that he doesn’t like any of the exhibits. If he were to share his experience with the author of the passage, which of the following is most likely to be the author’s response?
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