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प्रश्न
Whose knucklebones were collected by Willy Wonka?
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उत्तर
Mr Willy Wonka collected the knucklebones of a 700 years old Grimalkin that lived in a cave on Mount Popocatepetl.
APPEARS IN
संबंधित प्रश्न
- When I was a girl of about twelve, I used to stay in a village in north Karnataka with my grandparents. Those days, the transport system was not very good, so we used to get the morning papers only in the afternoon. The weekly magazine used to come one day late. All of us would wait eagerly for the bus, which used to come with the papers, weekly magazines and the post.
- At that time, Triveni was a very popular writer in the Kannada language. She was a wonderful writer. Her style was easy to read and very convincing. Her stories usually dealt with complex psychological problems in the lives of ordinary people and were always very interesting. Unfortunately, for Kannada literature, she died very young. Even now, after forty years, people continue to appreciate her novels.
- One of her novels, called Kashi Yatre, was appearing as a serial in the Kannada weekly Karmaveera then. It is the story of an old lady and her ardent desire to go to Kashi or Varanasi. Most Hindus believe that going to Kashi and worshipping Lord Vishweshwara is the ultimate punya. This old lady also believed in this, andher struggle to go there was described in that novel. In the story, there was also a young orphan girl who falls in love but there is no money for the wedding. In the end, the old lady gives away all her savings without going to Kashi. She says, 'The happiness of this orphan girl is more important than worshipping Lord Vishweshwara at Kashi.
- 'My grandmother, Krishtakka, never went to school. So, she could not read. Every Wednesday, the magazine would come and I would read the next episode of the
story to her. During that time, she would forget all her work and listen with the greatest concentration. Later, she could repeat the entire text by heart. My grandmother too never went to Kashi so she identified herself with the novel's protagonist. More than anybody else, she was the one most interested in knowing
what happened next in the story and used to insist that I read the serial out to her. - After hearing what happened next in Kashi Yatre, she would join her friends at thetemple courtyard, where we children would also gather to play hide and seek. Shewould discuss the latest episode with her friends. At that time, I never understoodwhy there was so much of debate about the story.
- Once I went for a wedding with my cousins to the neighbouring village. In thosedays, a wedding was a great event. We children enjoyed ourselves thoroughly.
We would eat and play endlessly, savouring the freedom because all the elders were busy. I went for a couple of days but ended up staying there for a week. - When I came back to my village, I saw my grandmother in tears. I was surprised,for I had never seen her cry even in the most difficult of situations. What had happened? I was worried.
- 'Avva, is everything fine? Are you alright?'
- I used to call her Avva, which means mother in the Kannada spoken in north Karnataka.
- She nodded but did not reply. I did not understand and forgot about it. In the night, after dinner, we were sleeping in the open terrace of the house. It was a summer night and there was a full moon. Avva came and sat next to me. Her affectionate hands touched my forehead. I realized she wanted to speak. I asked her, 'What is the matter?'
- When I was a young girl I lost my mother. There was nobody to look after and guide me. My father was a busy man. He got married again. In those days, people never considered education essential for girls, so I never went to school. I got married very young and had children. I became very busy. Later I had grandchildren and always felt so much happiness in cooking and feeding all of you. At times I used to regret not going to school, so I made sure that my children and grandchildren studied well ...'
- I could not understand why my sixty-two-year-old grandmother was telling me, a twelve-year-old, the story of her life in the middle of the night. One thing I knew, I loved her immensely and there had to be some reason why she was talking to me. I looked at her face. It was unhappy and her eyes were filled with tears. She
was a good-looking lady who was almost always smiling. Even today, I cannot forget the worried expression on her face. I leaned forward and held her hand. - 'Avva, don't cry. What is the matter? Can I help you in any way?'
- 'Yes, I need your help. You know when you were away, Karmaveera came as usual. I opened the magazine. I saw the picture that accompanies the story of Kashi Yatre and I could not understand anything that was written. Many times, I rubbed my hands over the pages wishing to understand what was written. But I knew it was not possible. If only I was educated enough... I waited eagerly for you to return. I felt you would come early and read for me. I even thought of going to the village and asking you to read for me. I could have asked somebody in this village but I was too embarrassed to do so. I felt so very dependent and helpless. We are well-off, but what use is money when I cannot be independent?'
- I did not know what to answer. Avva continued.
- 'I have decided I want to learn the Kannada alphabet from tomorrow onwards. I will work very hard. I will keep Saraswati Pooja day during Dassara as the deadline.
That day I should be able to read a novel on my own. I want to be independent.' - I saw the determination on her face. Yet I laughed at her.
- 'Avva, at this age of sixty-two you want to learn the alphabet? All your hair is grey, your hands are wrinkled, you wear spectacles and you have so much work in the
kitchen...' - Childishly I made fun of the old lady. But she just smiled.
- 'For a good cause if you are determined, you can overcome any obstacle. I will work harder than anybody but I will do it. For learning, there is no age bar.'
- The next day onwards, I started my tuition. Avva was a wonderful student. The amount of homework she did was amazing. She would read, repeat, write and recite. I was her only teacher and she was my first student. Little did I know then that one day I would become a teacher in Computer Science and teach hundreds of students.
- The Dassara festival came as usual. Secretly, I bought Kashi Yatre which had been published as a novel by that time. My grandmother called me to the pooja place and made me sit down on a stool. She gifted me a frock. Then she did
something unusual. She bent down and touched my feet. I was surprised and taken aback. Elders never touched the feet of youngsters. We have always touched the feet of God, elders and teachers. We considered that as a mark of
respect. It is a great tradition but today the reverse had happened. It was not correct. - She said, "I am touching the feet of a teacher, not
my granddaughter; a teacher who taught me so well, with so much of affection that I can read any novel confidently in such a short period. Now I am independent. It is
my duty to respect a teacher. Is it not written in our scriptures that a teacher should be respected, irrespective of the gender and age?' - I did return namaskara to her by touching her feet and gave my gift to my first student. She opened it and read the title Kashi Yatre by Triveni and the publisher's
name immediately . - I knew, then, that my student had passed with flying colours.
About the Author
Sudha Murty was born in 1950 in Shiggaon in North Karnataka. A prolific writer in Kannada, she has written seven novels, four technical books, three travelogues and two collections of short stories. Her previous English book 'Wise and Otherwise' has
been translated into thirteen Indian languages. Her stories deal with common lives and human values such as charity, kindness and self-realisation. As a sensitive writer, she writes about the suffering of the people. The main characters in all her
books are highly educated, non compromising, highly principled women.
"My father lived at Blenheim then,
Yon little stream hard by;
They burnt his dwelling to the ground,
And he was forced to fly;
So with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head.
"With fire and sword the country round
Was wasted far and wide,
And many a childing mother then,
And new-born baby died;
But things like that, you know, must be
At every famous victory;
Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow.
Explain the lines:
“With fire and sword the country round
Was wasted far and wide,’
We will ponder your proposition and when we decide we will let you know. But should we accept it, I here and now make this condition that we will not be denied the privilege without molestation of visiting at any time the tombs of our ancestors, friends, and children. Every part of this soil is sacred in the estimation of my people. Every hillside, every valley, every plain and grove, has been hallowed by some sad or happy event in days long vanished. Even the rocks, which seem to be dumb and dead as the swelter in the sun along the silent shore, thrill with memories of stirring events connected with the lives of my people, and the very dust upon which you now stand responds more lovingly to their footsteps than yours, because it is rich with the blood of our ancestors, and our bare feet are conscious of the sympathetic touch. Our departed braves, fond mothers, glad, happy hearted maidens, and even the little children who lived here and rejoiced here for a brief season, will love these somber solitudes and at eventide they greet shadowy returning spirits. And when the last Red Man shall have perished, and the memory of my tribe shall have become a myth among the White Men, these shores will swarm with the invisible dead of my tribe^ and when your children’s children think themselves alone in the field, the store, the shop, upon the highway, or in the silence of the pathless woods, they will not be alone. In all the earth there is no place dedicated to solitude. At night when the streets of your cities and villages are silent and you think them deserted, they will throng with the returning hosts’that once filled them and still lover this beautiful land. The White Man will never be alone.
Let him be just and deal kindly with my people, for the dead are not powerless. Dead, did I say? There is no death, only a change of worlds.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
When will the shores swarm with the invisible dead of the speaker’s tribe? Why?
Mr. Oliver, an Anglo-Indian teacher, was returning to his school late one night on the outskirts of the hill station of Shimla. The school was conducted on English public school lines and the boys – most of them from well-to-do Indian families – wore blazers, caps and ties. “Life” magazine, in a feature on India, had once called this school the Eton of the East.
Mr. Oliver had been teaching in this school for several years. He’s no longer there. The Shimla Bazaar, with its cinemas and restaurants, was about two miles from the school; and Mr. Oliver, a bachelor, usually strolled into the town in the evening returning after dark, when he would take short cut through a pine forest.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
When did Mr Oliver return from the town?
Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening— the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.
One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself. So the little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing. She crept along trembling with cold and hunger—a very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing!
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Describe the condition of the girl.
What does ti» poet wish for al the end ~f the poem? What does tl1e poem tell the readers about the poet? Give a reason to justify yow· answer.
Discuss the following topic in groups.
Why, in your opinion, did the man set the doves free?
Who looks after the grubs and how?
Was it right for the author’s friend to dismantle the bicycle?
Friendship is a great relation. We all must treasure our friends. Explain.
Which one of the following sums up the story best?
What does the phrase, “he ran as still as Water” mean?
What major decision did that Dog take?
Multiple Choice Question:
What does the word ‘scribble’ mean?
With your partner list out the happenings, the speaker is worried about.
Answer the following question.
What was the villagers’ reaction when the aunt explained her case to them?
What does the rebel do?
"Since I don’t know when" suggests ...
Antonio says that trying to reason with Shylock was like ______.
- standing on the beach and ordering the waves to wash away the sands.
- reasoning with a ewe which was crying out in distress at the loss of her lamb.
- trying to soften a rock.
- commanding the pine trees on the mountain side to remain quiet and motionless when battered by strong winds.
Read the extract given below and answer the questions that follow:
|
Bassanio: Portia: |
- Who is on trial?
Why is this person on trial? [3] - Explain in your own words Bassanio’s request to portia in the given extract.
What reason does he give for his request? [3] - How does Portia respond to Bassanio's request? What TWO reasons does she give for her response? [3]
- Who does Bassanio refer to as ‘this cruel devil’? What is this person's response to Portia’s words in the given extract? [3]
- How is the ‘cruel devil’ punished at the end of the trial?
How fair, in your opinion, is this punishment? Justify your response. [4]
