A voice loud enough to be heard ?->(Show Answer!)

1. A voice loud enough to be heard

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MCQ-> Read the following passage carefully and answer the question given below it.Certain words/phrase have-been printed in the bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions. King Hutamasan felt he had everything in the world not only due to his riches and his noble knights but because of his beautiful queen Rani Matsya The rays of the sun were put to shame with the iridescent light that Matsya illuminated with her beauty and brains At the right hand of the king she was known to sit and aid him in all his judicial probes You could not escape her deep-set eyes when you committed a crime as she always knew the and the culprit Her generosity preceded her reputation in the kingdom and her hands were always full to give people in the kingdom revered her because if she passed by she always gave to the compassionate and poor Far away from the kingly palace lived a man named Raman with only ends to his poverty as he had lost all his land to the landlord,His age enabled him little towards manual labour and so begging was the only alternative to salvage his wife and children Every morning he went door to door for some work food or money.The kindness of people always got him enough to take home But Raman was a little self centered His world began with him first followed by his family and the rest So he would eat and drink to his delight and return home with whatever he found excess This routine followed and he never let anyone discover his interest as he always put on a long face when he reached home. One day as he was relishing the bowl of rice he had just received from a humble home he heard that Rani Matsya was to pass from the very place he was standing Her generosity had reached his ears and he knew if he pulled a long face and showed how poor he was she would hand him a bag full of gold coins enough for the rest of his life enough to buy food and supplies for his family.He thought he could keep some coins for himself and only reveal a few to his wife so he can fulfill his own wishes. He ran to the chariot of the Rani and begged her soldiers to allow him to speak to the queen Listening to the arguments outside Rani Matsya opened the curtains of her chariot and asked Raman what he wanted Raman went on his knees and praised the queen I have heard you are most generous and most chaste show this beggar some charity Rani narrowed her brows and asked Raman what he could give her in return Surprised by such a question Raman looked at his bowl full of rice With spite in him he just picked up a few grains of rice and gave it to the queen Rani Matsya counted the 5 grains and looked at his bowl full of rice and said you shall be given what is due to you Saying this the chariot galloped away Raman abused her under his breath This he never thought would happen How could she ask him for something in return when she hadn’t given him anything ? Irked with anger he stormed home and gave his wife the bowl of rice Just then he saw a sack at the enterence His wife said some men had come and kept it there He opened it to find it full of rice He put his hand inside and caught hold of a hard metal only to discover it was a gold coin Elated he upturned the sack to find 5 gold coins in exact for the five rice grains If only I had given my entire bowl thought Raman I would have had a sack full of gold.According to the passage which of the following is definitely true about Rani Matsya ? (A)She was beautiful (B)She was intelligent (C)She was kind....

MCQ-> Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below it. Certain words have been printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions. Keshava, the washerman had a donkey. They worked together all day, and Keshava would pour out his heart to the donkey. One day, Keshava was walking home with the donkey when he felt tired. He tied the donkey te=a tree and sat down to rest fora while, near a school. A window was open, and through it, a teacher could be heard scolding the students. “Here I am, trying to turn you donkeys into human beings, but you just won’t study!” As soon as Keshava heard these words, his ears pricked up. A man who could actually turn, donkeys into humans! This was the answer to his prayers. Impatiently, he waited for school to be over that day. When everyone had gone home, and only the teacher remained behind to check some papers, Keshava entered the classroom. “How can I help you?” asked the teacher. Keshava scratched his head and said. “I heard what you said to the children. This donkey is my companion. If you made it human, we could have such good times together.” The teacher decided to trick Keshava. He pretended to think for a while and then said, “Give me six months and it will cost you a thousand rupees.” The washerman agreed and rushed home to get the money. He then left the donkey in the teacher’s care. After the six months were up, Keshava went to the teacher. The teacher had been using the donkey for his own work. Not wanting to give it up, he said, “Oh, your doilkey became so clever that it ran away. He is the headman of the next village. “When Keshava reached the next village he found the village elders sitting under a -tree, discussing serious problems: How surprised they were when Keshava marched up to the headman, grabbed his arm and said. “How dare you? You think you are so clever that you ran away? Come home at once!” The headman understood someone had played a trick on Keshava. “I am not your donkey!” he said. “Go find the sage in the forest. “Keshava found the sage sitting under a tree with his eyes closed, deep in meditation: He crept up and grabbed the sage’s beard.”Come back home now!” he shouted. The startled sage somehow calmed Keshava. When he heard what had happened, he had a good laugh. Then he told the washerman kindly, “The teacher made a fool of you. Your donkey must be still with him. Go and take it back from him. Try to make some real friends, who will talk with you and share your troubles. A donkey will never be able to do that!” Keshava returned home later that day with his donkey, sadder and wiser.Which of the following can be said about the teacher?
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MCQ->A voice loud enough to be heard....

MCQ-> Billie Holiday died a few weeks ago. I have been unable until now to write about her, but since she will survive many who receive longer obituaries, a short delay in one small appreciation will not harm her or us. When she died we — the musicians, critics, all who were ever transfixed by the most heart-rending voice of the past generation — grieved bitterly. There was no reason to. Few people pursed self-destruction more whole-heartedly than she, and when the pursuit was at an end, at the age of 44, she had turned herself into a physical and artistic wreck. Some of us tried gallantly to pretend otherwise, taking comfort in the occasional moments when she still sounded like a ravaged echo of her greatness. Others had not even the heart to see and listen any more. We preferred to stay home and, if old and lucky enough to own the incomparable records of her heyday from 1937 to 1946, many of which are not even available on British LP, to recreate those coarse-textured, sinuous, sensual and unbearable sad noises which gave her a sure corner of immortality. Her physical death called, if anything, for relief rather than sorrow. What sort of middle age would she have faced without the voice to earn money for her drinks and fixes, without the looks — and in her day she was hauntingly beautiful — to attract the men she needed, without business sense, without anything but the disinterested worship of ageing men who had heard and seen her in her glory?And yet, irrational though it is, our grief expressed Billie Holiday’s art, that of a woman for whom one must be sorry. The great blues singers, to whom she may be justly compared, played their game from strength. Lionesses, though often wounded or at bay (did not Bessie Smith call herself ‘a tiger, ready to jump’?), their tragic equivalents were Cleopatra and Phaedra; Holiday’s was an embittered Ophelia. She was the Puccini heroine among blues singers, or rather among jazz singers, for though she sang a cabaret version of the blues incomparably, her natural idiom was the pop song. Her unique achievement was to have twisted this into a genuine expression of the major passions by means of a total disregard of its sugary tunes, or indeed of any tune other than her own few delicately crying elongated notes, phrased like Bessie Smith or Louis Armstrong in sackcloth, sung in a thin, gritty, haunting voice whose natural mood was an unresigned and voluptuous welcome for the pains of love. Nobody has sung, or will sing, Bess’s songs from Porgy as she did. It was this combination of bitterness and physical submission, as of someone lying still while watching his legs being amputated, which gives such a blood-curdling quality to her Strange Fruit, the anti-lynching poem which she turned into an unforgettable art song. Suffering was her profession; but she did not accept it.Little need be said about her horrifying life, which she described with emotional, though hardly with factual, truth in her autobiography Lady Sings the Blues. After an adolescence in which self-respect was measured by a girl’s insistence on picking up the coins thrown to her by clients with her hands, she was plainly beyond help. She did not lack it, for she had the flair and scrupulous honesty of John Hammond to launch her, the best musicians of the 1930s to accompany her — notably Teddy Wilson, Frankie Newton and Lester Young — the boundless devotion of all serious connoisseurs, and much public success. It was too late to arrest a career of systematic embittered self-immolation. To be born with both beauty and selfrespect in the Negro ghetto of Baltimore in 1915 was too much of a handicap, even without rape at the age of 10 and drug-addiction in her teens. But, while she destroyed herself, she sang, unmelodious, profound and heartbreaking. It is impossible not to weep for her, or not to hate the world which made her what she was.Why will Billie Holiday survive many who receive longer obituaries?
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