When talks come to how India has done for itself in 50 years of Independence, the world has nothing but praise for our success in remaining a democracy. On other fronts, the applause is less loud. In absolute terms, India has not done too badly, of course, life expectancy has increased. So has literacy. Industry, which was barely a fledging, has grown tremendously. And as far as agriculture is concerned, India has been transformed from a country perpetually on the edge of starvation into a success story held up for others to emulate. But these are competitive times when change is rapid, and to walk slowly when the rest of the world is running is almost as bad as standing still on walking backwards.
Compared with large chunks of what was then the developing world — South Korea, Singapore, Malaysia, Thailand, Indonesia, China and what was till lately a separate Hong Kong —India has fared abysmally. It began with a far better infrastructure than most of these countries had. It suffered hardly or not at all during the Second World War. It had advantages like an English-speaking elite, quality scientific manpower (including a Nobel laureate and others who could be ranked among the world’s best) and excellent business acumen. Yet, today, when countries are ranked according to their global competitiveness, it is tiny Singapore that figures at the top. Hong Kong is an export powerhouse. So is Taiwan. If a symbol were needed of how far we have fallen back, note that while Korean Cielos are sold in India, no one is South Korea is rushing to buy an Indian car. The reasons list themselves. Topmost is economic isolationism.
The government discouraged imports and encouraged self-sufficiency. Whatever the aim was, the result was the creation of a totally inefficient industry that failed to keep pace with global trends and, therefore, became absolutely uncompetitive. Only when the trade gates were opened a little did this become apparent. The years since then have been spent in merely trying to catch up. That the government actually sheltered its industrialists from foreign competition is a little strange. For in all other respects, it operated under the conviction that businessmen were little more than crooks who were to be prevented from entering the most important areas of the economy, how were to be hamstrung in as many ways as possible, how were to be tolerated in the same way as an inexcusable wart. The high expropriatory rates of taxation, the licensing laws, the reservation of whole swathes of industry for the public sector, and the granting of monopolies to the public sector firms were the principal manifestations of this attitude. The government forgot that before wealth could be distributed, it had to be created.
The government forgot that it itself could not create, but only squander wealth. Some of the manifestations of the old attitude have changed. Tax rates have fallen. Licensing has been all but abolished. And the gates of global trade have been opened wide. But most of these changes were first by circumstances partly by the foreign exchange bankruptcy of 1991 and the recognition that the government could no longer muster the funds of support the public sector, leave alone expand it. Whether the attitude of the government itself, or that of more than handful of ministers, has changed, is open to question. In many other ways, however, the government has not changed one with. Business still has to negotiate a welter of negotiations. Transparency is still a longer way off. And there is no exit policy. In defending the existing policy, politicians betray an inability to see beyond their noses. A no-exit policy for labour is equivalent to a no-entry policy for new business. If one industry is not allowed to retrench labour, other industries will think a hundred times before employing new labour. In other ways too, the government hurts industry.
Public sector monopolies like the department of telecommunications and Videsh Sanchar Nigam Ltd. make it possible for Indian business to operate only at a cost several times that of their counterparts abroad. The infrastructure is in a shambles partly because it is unable to formulate a sufficiently remunerative policy for private business, and partly because it does not have the stomach to charge market rates for services. After a burst of activity in the early nineties, the government is dragging its feet. At the rate it is going, it will be fifty years before the government realises the need to change to a pro-people policy
The passage explicitly states:
\(\textit{"the government actually sheltered its industrialists from foreign competition… it operated under the conviction that businessmen were little more than crooks."}\)
This contradiction is the root of the writer’s surprise — the government protected industrialists while simultaneously distrusting them. Hence, option (C) accurately captures the reason for the surprise.
The passage clearly mentions:
\(\textit{"Most of these changes were forced by circumstances, partly by the foreign exchange bankruptcy of 1991 and the recognition that the government could no longer muster the funds to support the public sector."}\)
There is no mention of pressure from domestic or international markets in this context. Hence, the correct answer is (C), not (D).
The final lines are gloomy:
\(\textit{"After a burst of activity in the early nineties, the government is dragging its feet... it will be fifty years before the government realises the need to change to a pro-people policy."}\)
This statement shows deep frustration and little hope for improvement — which is clearly pessimistic. There is no sign of optimism or pragmatic resolution here.
\(\textit{"Most of these changes were forced by circumstances, partly by the foreign exchange bankruptcy of 1991 and the recognition that the government could no longer muster the funds to support the public sector."}\)
The passage points out that India started with significant advantages over other Asian nations. Among these were a solid infrastructure, an English-speaking elite, and scientific and business capabilities.
But notably, the line:
\(\textit{"It began with a far better infrastructure than most of these countries had..."}\)
suggests that this was a core reason the writer believed India should have done better.
Option (B) is more precise and accurate than the generic (A), making it the best choice.
The author mentions that India \(\textit{"suffered hardly or not at all during the Second World War"}\) and \(\textit{"had advantages like an English-speaking elite"}\) and \(\textit{"excellent business acumen."}\)
These are listed as key factors that put India in a better position. Both (A) and (B) are directly supported, so option (D) is correct.
The writer states:
\(\textit{"The government discouraged imports and encouraged self-sufficiency."}\)
This clearly identifies “discouragement of imports” as a key part of the protectionist strategy. Thus, option (B) is correct.
The other options either contradict the text or are not mentioned.
When people who are talking don’t share the same culture, knowledge, values, and assumptions, mutual understanding can be especially difficult. Such understanding is possible through the negotiation of meaning. To negotiate meaning with someone, you have to become aware of and respect both the differences in your backgrounds and when these differences are important. You need enough diversity of cultural and personal experience to be aware that divergent world views exist and what they might be like. You also need the flexibility in world view, and a generous tolerance for mistakes, as well as a talent for finding the right metaphor to communicate the relevant parts of unshared experiences or to highlight the shared experiences while demphasizing the others. Metaphorical imagination is a crucial skill in creating rapport and in communicating the nature of unshared experience. This skill consists, in large measure, of the ability to bend your world view and adjust the way you categorize your experiences. Problems of mutual understanding are not exotic; they arise in all extended conversations where understanding is important.
When it really counts, meaning is almost never communicated according to the CONDUIT metaphor, that is, where one person transmits a fixed, clear proposition to another by means of expressions in a common language, where both parties have all the relevant common knowledge, assumptions, values, etc. When the chips are down, meaning is negotiated: you slowly figure out what you have in common, what it is safe to talk about, how you can communicate unshared experience or create a shared vision. With enough flexibility in bending your world view and with luck and charity, you may achieve some mutual understanding.
Communication theories based on the CONDUIT metaphor turn from the pathetic to the evil when they are applied indiscriminately on a large scale, say, in government surveillance or computerized files. There, what is most crucial for real understanding is almost never included, and it is assumed that the words in the file have meaning in themselves—disembodied, objective, understandable meaning. When a society lives by the CONDUITmetaphor on a large scale, misunderstanding, persecution, and much worse are the likely products.
Later, I realized that reviewing the history of nuclear physics served another purpose as well: It gave the lie to the naive belief that the physicists could have come together when nuclear fission was discovered (in Nazi Germany!) and agreed to keep the discovery a secret, thereby sparing humanity such a burden. No. Given the development of nuclear physics up to 1938, development that physicists throughout the world pursued in all innocence of any intention of finding the engine of a new weapon of mass destruction—only one of them, the remarkable Hungarian physicist Leo Szilard, took that possibility seriously—the discovery of nuclear fission was inevitable. To stop it, you would have had to stop physics. If German scientists hadn’t made the discovery when they did, French, American, Russian, Italian, or Danish scientists would have done so, almost certainly within days or weeks. They were all working at the same cutting edge, trying to understand the strange results of a simple experiment bombarding uranium with neutrons. Here was no Faustian bargain, as movie directors and other naifs still find it intellectually challenging to imagine. Here was no evil machinery that the noble scientists might hide from the problems and the generals. To the contrary, there was a high insight into how the world works, an energetic reaction, older than the earth, that science had finally devised the instruments and arrangements to coart forth. “Make it seem inevitable,” Louis Pasteur used to advise his students when they prepared to write up their discoveries. But it was. To wish that it might have been ignored or suppressed is barbarous. “Knowledge,” Niels Bohr once noted, “is itself the basis for civilization.” You cannot have the one without the other; the one depends upon the other. Nor can you have only benevolent knowledge; the scientific method doesn’t filter for benevolence. Knowledge has consequences, not always intended, not always comfortable, but always welcome. The earth revolves around the sun, not the sun around the earth. “It is a profound and necessary truth,” Robert Oppenheimer would say, “that the deep things in science are not found because they are useful; they are found because it was possible to find them.”
...Bohr proposed once that the goal of science is not universal truth. Rather, he argued, the modest but relentless goal of science is “the gradual removal of prejudices.” The discovery that the earth revolves around the sun has gradually removed the prejudice that the earth is the center of the universe. The discovery of microbes is gradually removing the prejudice that disease is a punishment from God. The discovery of evolution is gradually removing the prejudice that Homo sapiens is a separate and special creation.
As the post–World War II generation of liberal democratic leaders forged new, highly successful domestic and international institutions and policies throughout the West, the weaknesses of liberal democracy that dominated the two decades after World War II faded from view. But they did not go away.
First, because liberal democracy restrains majorities, it slows the achievement of goals that majorities support. This generates frustration with institutional restraints, and an unacknowledged envy of authoritarian systems that can act quickly and decisively. China can build huge cities in the time it takes the United States to review the environmental impact of small highway projects. Liberal democracy requires more patience than many possess. Second, liberal democracy requires tolerance for minority views and ways of life to which many citizens are deeply opposed. It is natural to feel that if we consider certain views or ways of life to be odious, we should use public power to suppress them. In many such cases, liberal democracy restrains this impulse, a psychological burden that some will find unbearable.
This leads directly to the third inherent problem of liberal democracy—the distinction it requires us to make between civic identity and personal or group identity. For example, although we may consider certain religious views false and even dangerous, we must, for civic purposes, accept those who hold these views as our equals. They may freely express these views; they may organize to promote them; they may vote, and their votes are given the same weight as ours. The same goes for race, ethnicity, gender, and all the particularities that distinguish us from one another.
This requirement often goes against the grain of natural sentiments. We want the public sphere to reflect what we find most valuable about our private commitments. Liberal democracy prevents us from fully translating our personal identities into our public lives as citizens. This too is not always easy to bear. The quest for wholeness—for a political community, or even a world, that reflects our most important commitments—is a deep yearning to which liberal leaders can always appeal.
Nor is the fourth inherent difficulty of liberal democracy—the necessity of compromise—easy to bear. If what I want is good and true, why should I agree that public decisions must incorporate competing views? James Madison gives us the answer: in circumstances of liberty, diversity of views is inevitable, and unless those who agree with us form a majority so large as to be irresistible, the alternative to compromise is inaction, which is often more damaging, or oppression, which always is.
Beware of the old newspapers
stacked
on that little three legged stool over there.
Don’t disturb them.
I know it for a fact
that snakes have spawned in between these sheets.
Don’t even look in that direction.
It’s not because of breeze
that their corners are fluttering.
It’s alive, that nest of newspapers.
new born snakes, coiling and uncurling,
are turning their heads to look at you.
That white corner has spread its hood.
A forked tongue
shoots out of its mouth.
Keep your eyes closed.
Get rid of the whole goddamn pile if you
want to
in the morning.
On the night of October 12th, the "Sunburst Medallion" was stolen from the highly secured display case in the city museum. The theft occurred sometime between the museum closing at 10:00 PM and the night guard, Mr. Hemant, completing his final round at 1:00 AM. Three primary suspects were identified, all of whom had recently been dismissed from their museum positions: Anjali, the former curator; Bharat, the former security expert; and Chitra, the former exhibits designer.
Here are the established facts and their alibis:
Further investigation revealed that a small, distinctive silver button was found near the display case. Anjali is known to frequently wear a coat with similar unique silver buttons. The security expert, Bharat, had previously boasted that he could remotely disable a certain type of magnetic lock—the same type used on the medallion's case—without needing the code, though the log suggests the code was used. (269 words)
In a small town lived a close-knit family where every relation could be expressed through simple symbols. For instance, when they said \( A \times B \), it meant \( A \) is the father of \( B \), while \( A \div B \) meant \( A \) is the mother of \( B \). The younger ones were often introduced with \( A + B \), meaning \( A \) was the daughter of \( B \), and the bond of brotherhood was shown by \( A - B \) (A is brother of B).
One day, the children in the family turned these symbols into a playful code. Instead of introducing their parents and siblings in words, they spoke only in symbols. “Look,” giggled little Meena, “\( M + N \div O \)!” Everyone laughed, because they knew it meant Meena was the daughter of \( N \), and \( N \) was the mother of \( O \), making her \( O \)’s sister. What started as a code soon became a family game, making the bonds of father, mother, daughter, and brother not just relations, but symbols of love and togetherness. (165 words)
Four teams – Red (R), Blue (B), Green (G), and Yellow (Y) – are competing in the final four rounds of the Inter-School Science Olympiad, labeled Round A, Round B, Round C, and Round D. Each round consists of one match between two teams, and every team plays exactly two matches. No team plays the same opponent more than once.
The final schedule must adhere to the following rules:
(193 words)
Health insurance plays a vital role in ensuring financial protection and access to quality healthcare. In India, however, the extent and nature of health insurance coverage vary significantly between urban and rural areas. While urban populations often have better access to organized insurance schemes, employer-provided coverage, and awareness about health policies, rural populations face challenges such as limited outreach of insurance schemes, inadequate infrastructure, and lower awareness levels. This urban-rural divide in health insurance coverage highlights the broader issue of healthcare inequality, making it essential to analyze the factors contributing to this gap and explore strategies for more inclusive health protection. A state-level health survey was conducted.
The survey covered 1,80,000 adults across urban and rural areas. Urban residents formed 55% of the sample (that is, 99,000 people) while rural residents made up 45% (that is, 81,000 people). In each area, coverage was classified under four heads – Public schemes, Private insurance, Employer-provided coverage, and Uninsured. In urban areas, Public coverage accounted for 28% of the urban population, Private for 22%, Employer for 18%, and the remaining 32% were Uninsured. In rural areas, where formal coverage is generally lower, Public coverage stood at 35%, Private at 10%, Employer at 8%, while 47% were Uninsured.
For this survey, “Insured” includes everyone covered by Public + Private + Employer schemes, and “Uninsured” indicates those with no coverage at all. Officials noted that public schemes remain the backbone of rural coverage, while employer and private plans are relatively more prevalent in urban centres. (250 words)