Natwarlal ...... them all for a ride by producing false documents. ?->(Show Answer!)

1. Natwarlal ...... them all for a ride by producing false documents.

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MCQ-> Study the following information carefully and answer the questions given below: When a word and number arrangement machine is given an input line of words and numbers, it arranges them following a particular rule. The following is an illustration of input and rearrangement : (All the numbers are two digit numbers). Input : bike 51 ride 37 11 duke 58 damp line 75 tent 84 Step I : 84 51 ride 37 11 duke 58 damp line 75 tent bike Step II : 75 84 51 ride 37 11 duke 58 line tent bike damp Step III : 58 75 84 51 ride 37 11 line tent bike damp duke Step IV : 51 58 75 84 ride 37 11 tent bike damp duke line Step V : 37 51 58 75 84 11 tent bike damp duke line ride Step VI : 11 37 51 58 75 84 bike damp duke line ride tent Step VI is the last step of the above arrangement as the intended arrangement is obtained. As per the rules followed in the above steps, find out in each of the following questions the appropriate steps for the given input. Input : find 64 belt 28 54 lamp 17 give flat 69 real 95Which of the following would be the Step III ?
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MCQ-> I want to stress this personal helplessness we are all stricken with in the face of a system that has passed beyond our knowledge and control. To bring it nearer home, I propose that we switch off from the big things like empires and their wars to more familiar little things. Take pins for example! I do not know why it is that I so seldom use a pin when my wife cannot get on without boxes of them at hand; but it is so; and I will therefore take pins as being for some reason specially important to women.There was a time when pinmakers would buy the material; shape it; make the head and the point; ornament it; and take it to the market, and sell it and the making required skill in several operations. They not only knew how the thing was done from beginning to end, but could do it all by themselves. But they could not afford to sell you a paper of pins for the farthing. Pins cost so much that a woman's dress allowance was calling pin money.By the end of the 18th century Adam Smith boasted that it took 18 men to make a pin, each man doing a little bit of the job and passing the pin on to the next, and none of them being able to make a whole pin or to buy the materials or to sell it when it was made. The most you could say for them was that at least they had some idea of how it was made, though they could not make it. Now as this meant that they were clearly less capable and knowledgeable men than the old pin-makers, you may ask why Adam Smith boasted of it as a triumph of civilisation when its effect had so clearly a degrading effect. The reason was that by setting each man to do just one little bit of the work and nothing but that, over and over again, he became very quick at it. The men, it is said, could turn out nearly 5000 pins a day each; and thus pins became plentiful and cheap. The country was supposed to be richer because it had more pins, though it had turned capable men into mere machines doing their work without intelligence and being fed by the spare food of the capitalist just as an engine is fed with coals and oil. That was why the poet Goldsmith, who was a farsighted economist as well as a poet, complained that 'wealth accumulates, and men decay'.Nowadays Adam Smith's 18 men are as extinct as the diplodocus. The 18 flesh-and-blood men have been replaced by machines of steel which spout out pins by the hundred million. Even sticking them into pink papers is done by machinery. The result is that with the exception of a few people who design the machines, nobody knows how to make a pin or how a pin is made: that is to say, the modern worker in pin manufacture need not be one-tenth so intelligent, skilful and accomplished as the old pinmaker; and the only compensation we have for this deterioration is that pins are so cheap that a single pin has no expressible value at all. Even with a big profit stuck on to the cost-price you can buy dozens for a farthing; and pins are so recklessly thrown away and wasted that verses have to be written to persuade children (without success) that it is a sin to steal, if even it’s a pin.Many serious thinkers, like John Ruskin and William Morris, have been greatly troubled by this, just as Goldsmith was, and have asked whether we really believe that it is an advance in wealth to lose our skill and degrade our workers for the sake of being able to waste pins by the ton. We shall see later on, when we come to consider the Distribution of Leisure, that the cure for this is not to go back to the old free for higher work than pin-making or the like. But in the meantime the fact remains that the workers are now not able to make anything themselves even in little bits. They are ignorant and helpless, and cannot lift their finger to begin their day's work until it has all been arranged for them by their employer's who themselves do not understand the machines they buy, and simply pay other people to set them going by carrying out the machine maker's directions.The same is true for clothes. Earlier the whole work of making clothes, from the shearing of the sheep to the turning out of the finished and washed garment ready to put on, had to be done in the country by the men and women of the household, especially the women; so that to this day an unmarried woman is called a spinster. Nowadays nothing is left of all this but the sheep shearing; and even that, like the milking of cows, is being done by machinery, as the sewing is. Give a woman a sheep today and ask her to produce a woollen dress for you; and not only will she be quite unable to do it, but you are likely to find that she is not even aware of any connection between sheep and clothes. When she gets her clothes, which she does by buying them at the shop, she knows that there is a difference between wool and cotton and silk, between flannel and merino, perhaps even between stockinet and other wefts; but as to how they are made, or what they are made of, or how they came to be in the shop ready for her to buy, she knows hardly anything. And the shop assistant from whom she buys is no wiser. The people engaged in the making of them know even less; for many of them are too poor to have much choice of materials when they buy their own clothes.Thus the capitalist system has produced an almost universal ignorance of how things are made and done, whilst at the same time it has caused them to be made and done on a gigantic scale. We have to buy books and encyclopaedias to find out what it is we are doing all day; and as the books are written by people who are not doing it, and who get their information from other books, what they tell us is twenty to fifty years out of date knowledge and almost impractical today. And of course most of us are too tired of our work when we come home to want to read about it; what we need is cinema to take our minds off it and feel our imagination.It is a funny place, this word of capitalism, with its astonishing spread of education and enlightenment. There stand the thousands of property owners and the millions of wage workers, none of them able to make anything, none of them knowing what to do until somebody tells them, none of them having the least notion of how it is made that they find people paying them money, and things in the shops to buy with it. And when they travel they are surprised to find that savages and Esquimaux and villagers who have to make everything for themselves are more intelligent and resourceful! The wonder would be if they were anything else. We should die of idiocy through disuse of our mental faculties if we did not fill our heads with romantic nonsense out of illustrated newspapers and novels and plays and films. Such stuff keeps us alive, but it falsifies everything for us so absurdly that it leaves us more or less dangerous lunatics in the real world.Excuse my going on like this; but as I am a writer of books and plays myself, I know the folly and peril of it better than you do. And when I see that this moment of our utmost ignorance and helplessness, delusion and folly, has been stumbled on by the blind forces of capitalism as the moment for giving votes to everybody, so that the few wise women are hopelessly overruled by the thousands whose political minds, as far as they can be said to have any political minds at all, have been formed in the cinema, I realise that I had better stop writing plays for a while to discuss political and social realities in this book with those who are intelligent enough to listen to me.A suitable title to the passage would be
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MCQ->Natwarlal ...... them all for a ride by producing false documents.....

MCQ-> Read the following passage carefully and answer the questions given below it. Certain word/phrases have been printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of the questions.The men of Suvarnanagari were very lazy. They only liked to gossip and tell each other tall tales. As soon as the sun rose, the men would tuck into hearty breakfast and then gather in groups for their daily session of gossiping. Then they would spend the rest of the day telling each other impossible stories. They came back only at lunch and dinner time. The farmlands of Suvarnanagari were very fertile. If the men had spent even a little time at fields, they would have reaped wonderful crops. But as they did nothing, all the responsibilities ended up on shoulders of the woman. They had to work hard the whole day. They cooked, cleaned, sent the children to school, worked in the fields, took the crops to the market - in short they did everything. One day the tired woman gathered and decided that the men needed to be taught a lesson. One of them suggested that they should write to the king about their problem, as he was known to be just and a kind person. So the letter was written and sent to the king. The women went back to their daily routines, hoping that the king would soon take some action. Many days passed, nothing changed, no one came, and the poor women began to lose hope. ‘After all why would the king of such a vast empire be concerned about the plight of the women of such a tiny village?’ they thought. A month passed by and it was a full moon night. The men ate their dinners and because it was so beautiful and well lit outside, they gathered again to chat and boast. That night they were trying to prove to one another that they were capable of performing the most impossible tasks. Soon a tall and handsome stranger joined them. Seeing his noble features and intelligent eyes, each one wanted to prove himself better than the others and impress to him. One said, ‘’I knew the map of this kingdom even before I was born. I ran to meet the king as soon as I was born, my mother had such trouble bringing me back home !’’ Everyone was impressed by this story. Soon another man said, ‘’So what is so great about that ? When I was a just a day old, I could ride a horse. I sat on a big horse and rode all the way to the king’s palace. He received me with lot of love and we had the most delicious meal together.’’ This was even more impressive, so everyone applauded. Now the third man said, ‘’Huh! That is nothing. I sat on an elephant when I was a week old and had lunch with the king in his palace.’’Before the admiring murmurs could die down, the fourth man said, ‘’When I was a month old, I flew like a bird and landed in the king’s garden. The king picked me up and even let me sit on his throne with him,’’ While everyone was in awe of these stories, the stranger spoke up, ‘’ Do all four of you know the king very well?’’ ‘’Of course we do! ‘’ they replied together. ‘’Our king knows and love us. In fact, he is proud to have supernatural beings like us in his kingdom,’’ one of them added. The stranger looked thoughtful. ‘’That makes my task so much easier. You see, I work in the king’s court. Some days ago the king had summoned four supermen to the city in order to repair a large hole in the city wall. As you know, we use only the largest and toughest stones for building these walls, and they could be lifted and put in place only by these supermen. The four supermen asked to be paid in gold bars and the king complied.But the night they received their fee, they disappeared from the palace. I have been wandering around ever since looking for them. The king has ordered me to find the four men and bring them back to the capital to finish the work. They will also have to return the gold bars they ran away with. It looks like the search has finally ended. I will take the four of you to the king along with the gold bars. The king will be very pleased with me and will surely reward me,’’ said the stranger. By the time the stranger finished his story, the four men realised that their lies had landed them into a huge trouble. Their faces turned ashamed and they dived at the stranger’s feet. ‘’Those were all lies. We are all just a bunch of lazy men. But if you forgive us and forget our stories, we promise to do some honest work and stop telling such lies,’’ they wailed. The stranger smiled and said, ’’Alright, I will tell the king there are no supermen in this village, just honest and hardworking men and women.’’ That night the stranger left the village. The women were sure that it was none other than the king himself.How did the men of Suvarnanagiri spend their days ?
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MCQ-> Social life is an outflow and meeting of personality, which means that its end is the meeting of character, temperament, and sensibility, in which our thoughts and feelings, and sense perceptions are brought into play at their lightest and yet keenest.This aspect, to my thinking, is realized as much in large parties composed of casual acquaintances or even strangers, as in intimate meetings of old friends. I am not one of those superior persons who hold cocktail parties in contempt, looking upon them as barren or at best as very tryingly kaleidoscopic places for gathering, because of the strangers one has to meet in them; which is no argument, for even our most intimate friends must at one time have been strangers to us. These large gatherings will be only what we make of them if not anything better, they can be as good places to collect new friends from as the slavemarkets of Istanbul were for beautiful slaves or New Market for race horses.But they do offer more immediate enjoyment. For one thing, in them one can see the external expression of social life in appearance and behaviour at its widest and most varied where one can admire beauty of body or air, hear voices remarkable either for sweetness of refinement, look on elegance of clothes or deportment. What is more, these parties are schools for training in sociability, for in them we have to treat strangers as friends. So, in them we see social sympathy in widest commonalty spread, or at least should. We show an atrophy of the natural human instinct of getting pleasure and happiness out of other human beings if we cannot treat strangers as friends for the moment. And I would go further and paraphrase Pater to say that not to be able to discriminate every moment some passionate attitude in those about us, even when we meet them casually, is on this short day of frost and sun which out life is, to sleep before evening.So, it will be seen that my conception of social life is modest, for it makes no demands on what we have, though it does make some on what we are. Interest, wonder, sympathy, and love, the first two leading to the last two, are the psychological prerequisites for social life; and the need for the first two must not be underrated. We cannot make the most even of our intimate social life unless we are able to make strangers of our oldest friends everyday by discovering unknown areas in their personality, and transform them into new friends. In sum, social life is a function of vitality.It is tragic, however, to observe that it is these very natural springs of social life which are drying up among us. It is becoming more and more difficult to come across fellow-feeling for human beings as such in our society and in all its strata. In the poor middle class, in the course of all my life. I have hardly seen any social life properly so-called. Not only has the grinding routine of making a living killed all desire for it in them, it has also generated a standing mood of peevish hostility to other human beings. Increasing economic distress in recent years has infinitely worsened this state of affairs, and has also brought a sinister addition class hatred. This has become the greatest collective emotional enjoyment of the poor middle class, and indeed they feel most social when they form a pack, and snarl or howl at people who are better off than they.Their most innocent exhibition of sociability is seen when they spill out from their intolerable homes into the streets and bazaars. I was astonished to see the milling crowds in the poor suburbs of Calcutta. But even there a group of flippant young loafers would put on a conspiratorial look if they saw a man in good clothes passing by them either on foot or in a car. I had borrowed a car from a relative to visit a friend in one of these suburbs, and he became very anxious when I had not returned before dusk. Acid and bombs, he said, were thrown at card almost every evening in that area. I was amazed. But I also know as a fact that my brother was blackmailed to pay five rupees on a trumped up charge when passing in a car through one such locality.The situation is differently inhuman, but not a whit more human, among the well-to-do. Kindliness for fellow human beings has been smothered in them, taken as a class, by the arrogance of worldly position, which among the Bengalis who show this snobbery is often only a third-class position.The word ‘they’ in the first sentence of the third paragraph refers to
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