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Read the following passage given below and answer the question.
We humans walk with two legs (called 'bipedal') and use two hands. The evolution of bipedalism began in our ancestors, the primates, about 4 million years ago. The primates not only gave us our blood groups, but our two feet and two hands as well. Primates exhibit characteristics that distinguish them from less evolved mammals. These include adaptations to live in trees (as monkeys do), big brains, heightened sense of vision, opposable thumbs to grasp the four fingers in each hand, and more flexibility in shoulder movements. 
Dr. Tetsuro Matsuzawa of the Kyoto University, Japan, writes that the shared ancestor primates moved into tree tops and developed four hands from the four legs possessed by the terrestrial ancestor. This was an adaptation to arboreal life; enabling the efficient grasping of branches and tree-trunks. Subsequently, early human ancestors left the trees to start walking long distances across the land, bipedally. Thus, we created two feet from four hands during the course of evolution from our primate ancestors. 
The anthropologist Carol Ward of the University of Missouri, US points out that the way we humans get around the world is different from any other animal on earth. We move around on the ground, upright on two feet, but in a unique way: with one foot after the other; holding our body fully upright in a characteristic series of motions. So, it's a big deal to figure out how and why we walk the way we do, and how our lineage really diverged so much from ape like creatures. 
The human brain is about three times as big as the brain of our closest living relative, the chimpanzee. Moreover, a part of our brain, called the cerebral cortex - which plays a key role in memory, attention, awareness and thought - contains twice as many cells as the same region in chimpanzees. We are, thus, smarter than apes.
Read the following passage given below and answer the question.
Off to the right we hear the distinct 'bleep-bleep' - the alarm call of the chital, or spotted deer, announcing the presence of a predator. Kuttapan and Gautam go off to investigate and we begin to drive around to intercept them on the other side of the forest. Not ten metres down the road, we hear a loud 'varoom' - the call of the tiger - and we slide to a halt on the dusty road. Walking directly towards us at a distance of 100 metres is a large male tiger. It is one of the three-year-old males known to share this territory with his brother. 
The tiger continued his casual stroll directly towards us. 
When the tiger is about 50 metres past us, our reverie is broken by a commotion in the forest across the road. Anil, our guide, whispers loudly, 'Wolves!' There, propped up like little statues in a clearing in the forest, are two Indian grey wolves. Rigid, alert, clearly in a state of alarm and agitation, they begin yelping at the tiger. The tiger spins around on the road and charges off into the forest after them. 
This time the tiger turns round and glowers at the wolf, probably assessing the distance between them and the speed it would take to catch the wolf. The muscles of the tiger begin to twitch and off goes the wolf into the forest again. Finally, after one more of these encounters, the tiger moves some distance away and the wolf disappears into the forest for one last time. We can only assume that the aggressive and bold behaviour of the wolf meant he was protecting some cubs and wanted to be sure the tiger was driven out of his territory. The tiger, now left in peace, continues his stroll.
The small village of Somnathpur contains an extraordinary temple, built around 1268 A.D. by the Hoyasalas of Karnataka-one of the most prolific templebuilders. Belur and Helebid are among their-better-known works. While these suffered during the invasions of the 14th century, the Somnathpur temple stands more or less intact in near-original condition. This small temple captivates with the beauty and vitality of its detailed sculpture,covering almost every inch of the walls, pillars, and even ceilings. It has three shikharas and stands on a star-shaped, raised platform with 24 edges. The outer walls have a profusion of detailed carvings: the entire surface run over by carved plaques of stone. There were vertical panels covered by exquiste figures of gods and goddesses. with many incarnations being depicted. There were nymphs too, some carrying an ear of maize a symbol of plenty and prosperity. The elaborate ornamentation, very characteristic of Hoyasala sculptures, is a remarkable feature. A closer look at the series of friezes on the outer walls reveal intricately carved caparisoned elephants, charging horsemen, stylized flowers,warriors, musicians crocodiles and swans.
The temple was actually commissioned by Soma Dandanayaka or Somnath (he named the village after himself), the minister of the Hoyasala king, Narasimha the Third. The temple was built to house three forms of Krishna. The inner center of the temple was the kalyanamandapa. Leading from here are three corridors, each ending in a shrine, one for each kind of Krishna-Venugopala, Janardana and Prasanna Keshava, though only two remain in their original form.
When I was a small child my grandparents would take me blackberry picking. It was usually late August when the blackberries had fully ripened. Grandad would drive us in his old van. Despite not being comfortable or particularly safe. Grandad's van had a character you would not find in a sleek new car, complete with the latest innovations and a silent engine. Being seven or eight at the time, I always enjoyed a trip as we bounced along to our destination.
My grandparents always chose the same spot. Wild blackberry bushes stretched along the roadside as far as the eye could see in both directions. The road overlooked a small pitch and putt course. On such sunny summer days it was always full. Golfers ambled sedately from hole and the crack of metal striking ball was a constant accompaniment.
Several hours of picking berries ensued. Nana warned me not to eat any until they had all been washed, but turned a knowing blind eye while I gorged anyway. I also helped myself to the occasional unripe red berry as I had particular taste for anything bitter. The fully immature green berries proved a step too far for even my palate and were merely unpleasant.
When at last we were finished the big scenery had turned to lengthy shadows and the afternoon had elapsed into evening. Grandad hauled a big bag half full of berries back to the van. Juice bed slowly onto the ground. Nana would later make apple and blackberry tarts and fill several jars with jam. When I reached the van my stomach hurt from too much fruit. My hands stung from constant thorn pricks and were stained dark purple. I always enjoyed those days.