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Our home stood behind the railroad tracks. Its skimpy yard was paved with black cinders. The only touch of green we could see was far away, beyond the tracks over where the white folks lived. But cinders were fine weapons. All you had to do was crouch behind the brick pillars of a house with your hands full of gritty ammunition, and the first wooly black head you saw from behind another row of pillars was your target. It was fun. One day, the gang to which I belonged found itself engaged in a war with the white boys who lived beyond the tracks. As usual, we laid down our cinder barrage thinking this would wipe the white boys out. But they replied with a steady bombardment of broken bottles. We retreated. During the retreat, a broken milk bottle caught me behind the ear, opening a deep gash. The sight of blood pouring over my face completely demoralized our ranks. My fellow combatants left me standing paralyzed in the center of the yard and scurried for their houses. A kind neighbor saw me and rushed me to a doctor.

Q. The author was hit by a broken bottle


A
As soon as the fight began
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B
During a lull in the fight
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C
When the author’s gang was withdrawing
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D
After the fight was over
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Solution

The correct option is C When the author’s gang was withdrawing

During the retreat, a broken milk bottle caught me behind the ear, opening a deep gash”.


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Q.

The following is a summary of parts 1 and 2 of the poem. But the summary contains ten errors (errors of fact, not errors of language). Rewrite the summary, correcting the errors.

An elderly sailor met three people who were going to a wedding-feast. He stopped one of them, and started to tell him a strange story. “I was a sailor on a ship,” he said. “We left the harbor in good weather, and sailed south for many days. Then the weather changed, and we were driven towards the north pole by a very strong tide. There, we were surrounded by mist and snow and by waves as high as the mast of our ship. Soon, our ship was completely trapped in the mud. But one day, an albatross came through the fog. We called to it, and gave it food. Then a break appeared in the ice, and we began to sail south, the albatross followed us. It became our friend: we called to it, and gave it food.”

The young sailor stopped, with a haunted look on his face. “Whatever is the matter?” asked the wedding guest, anxiously. “I shot the albatross,” answered the ancient mariner “with my gun.”

He went on: “As we continued our journey, the weather improved a little; the wind continued to blow our ship northwards, away from the south pole, but the fog still blotted out the sun. My ship-mates constantly told me what a wicked thing I had done, to kill the bird that had brought the ice. But when the fog did not clear, they changed their minds: they told me that I had done a good thing. To kill the bird that brought the fog.”

Suddenly, the wind stopped, and our ship was becalmed: we could not move at all. Day after day the ship stayed in the same spot, with the rain beating down above us. Day after day, we had no water to drink. Our tongues dried up, and we could not speak. My ship-mates gave me evil looks. Since they felt that I was responsible for their problems, they hung the dead albatross around my waist as a sign of my guilt.”

Q. I. Literary training was a difficult matter. I had neither the resources nor the literary equipment necessary, and I had not the time I would have wished to devote to the subject. We gave three periods at the most to literary training. Hindi, Tamil, Gujarati and Urdu were all taught, and tuition was given through the vernaculars of the boys. English was taught as well.

II. I had undertaken to teach Tamil and Urdu. The little Tamil I knew was acquired during voyages and in jail. I had not got beyond Pope's excellent Tamil handbook. My knowledge of the Urdu script was all that I had acquired on a single voyage, and my knowledge of the language was confined to the familiar Persian and Arabic words. Even my Gujarati was no better than that which one acquires at the school.

III. Such was the capital with which I had to carry on. In poverty of literary equipment my colleagues went one better than I. But my love for the languages of my country, my confidence in my capacity as a teacher, as also the ignorance of my pupils, and more than that, their generosity, stood me in good stead.

IV. Of text-books, about which we hear so much, I never felt the want. I do not even remember having made much use of the books that were available. I did not find it at all necessary to load the boys with quantities of books. I have always felt that the true text-book for the pupil is his teacher. I remember very little that my teachers taught me from books, but I have even now a clear recollection of the things they taught me independently of books.

V. Children take in much more and with less labour through their ears than through their eyes. I do not remember having read any book from cover to cover with my boys. But I gave them, in my own language, all that I had digested from my reading of various books, and I dare say they are still carrying a recollection of it in their minds. It was laborious for them to remember what they learnt from books, but what I imparted to them by word of mouth, they could repeat with the greatest ease. Reading was a task for them, but listening to me was a pleasure, when I did not bore them by failure to make my subject interesting. And from the questions that my talks prompted them to put, I had a measure of their power of understanding.

Adapted from The Story of My Experiments with Truth by M K Gandhi

Based on your understanding of the passage, answer below given question by choosing the correct option.

Which of the following things were reproduced with ease by the author’s boys?

[0.8 marks]
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