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प्रश्न
How does an electric fan managed to throw so much air when it is switched on?
उत्तर
An electrical fan comprises of three blades and a whirling motor. The moment it is switched on. the motor starts and begins to rotate, forcing the blades to move in circular movement. this generates a lot of pressure, which forces the air downwards in all directions.
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संबंधित प्रश्न
Answer the following question in 30 to 40 words.
On two occasions Bruno ate/drank something that should not be eaten /drunk. What
happened to him on these occasions?
The poem you have just read is originally in the Tamil. Do you know any such poems in your language?
Thinking about the Poem
“…whenever we are told to hate our brothers…” When do you think this happens?
Why? Who ‘tells’ us? Should we do as we are told at such times? What does the poet say?
On the basis of your understanding of the poem, answer the following question
by ticking the correct choice.
'The Solitary Reaper' is a narrative poem set to music. This form of verse is called
a______.
Reviewing verb forms
What does he plant who plants a tree? a
He plants a friend of sun and sky;b
He plants the flag of breezes free;
The shaft of beauty, towering high;
He plants a home to heaven anigh;
For song and mother-croon of bird
In hushed and happy twilight heard____
The treble of heaven's harmony_____
These things he plants who plants a tree.
Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow:
What does he plant who plants a tree?
He plants, in sap and leaf and wood,
In love of home and loyalty
And far-cast thought of civic good____
His blessing on the neighbourhood,
Who in the hollow of his hand
Holds all the growth of all our land____
A nation's growth from sea to sea
Stirs in his heart who plants a tree.
Read the lines given above and answer the question that follow:
What is meant by a nation’s growth from sea to sea?
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.
How is every part of the soil sacred to his people?
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?
Margot stood alone. She was a very frail girl who looked as if she had been lost in the rain for years and the rain had washed out the blue from her eyes and the red from her mouth and the yellow from her hair. She was an old photograph dusted from an album, whitened away, and if she spoke at all her voice would be a ghost. Now she stood, separate, staring at the rain and the loud wet world beyond the huge glass. “What’re you looking at ?” said William. Margot said nothing. “Speak when you’re spoken to.” He gave her a shove. But she did not move; rather she let herself be moved only by him and nothing else. They edged away from her, they would not look at her. She felt them go away. And this was because she would play no games with them in the echoing tunnels of the underground city. If they tagged her and ran, she stood blinking after them and did not follow. When the class sang songs about happiness and life and games her lips barely moved. Only when they sang about the sun and the summer did her lips move as she watched the drenched windows.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Why was Margot sad?
They stood in the doorway of the underground for a moment until it was raining hard. Then they closed the door and heard the gigantic sound of the rain falling in tons and avalanches, everywhere and forever.
“Will it be seven more years?” “Yes. Seven.” Then one of them gave a little cry. “Margot!” “What?” “She’s still in the closet where we locked her.” “Margot.”
They stood as if someone had driven them, like so many stakes, into the floor. They looked at each other and then looked away. They glanced out at the world that was raining now and raining and raining steadily. They could not meet each other’s glances. Their faces were solemn and pale. They looked at their hands and feet, their faces down. “Margot.” One of the girls said, “Well.. .?” No one moved. “Go on,” whispered the girl. They walked slowly down the hall in the sound of the cold rain. They turned through the doorway to the room in the sound of the storm and thunder, lightning on their faces, blue and terrible. They walked over to the closet door slowly and stood by it. Behind the closed door was only silence. They unlocked the door, even more slowly, and let Margot out.
Read the extract given below and answer the question that follow.
Why does the author describe their faces as blue and terrible?
What information does Gilman give to Twisden? Why did Twisden decide to withdraw from the case ?
Complete the following sentences.
(i) Toto climbed up the curtains when ————————————————————————————————
(ii) _________________________________________________———————————————————————, I became one of the tiger’s favourites.
iii) Timothy had clean habits, ___________________ ————————————————————————————————————
What do you know about Tansen’s life before he joined Akbar’s court?
How did the crocodile plan to please his wife? How did the monkey use his wits and save his life?
Who do you think or understand what the talking fan wished to convey?
Complete the following sentence.
In the spring, the banyan tree ________________, and _______________ would come there.
Answer the question.
What does he imagine about
what they do at home?
Find out the meaning of the following words by looking them up in the dictionary. Then use them in sentences of your own.
mystic
Play detectives with each other. Find a person in your class (or some other acquaintance) to speak to. Find out the answers to the questions given below. Be careful to ask your questions in a polite and inoffensive way. Do not force the person to answer you. Then allow the person to ask you the same questions.
- Name?
- What newspapers or magazines does the person read?
- How long has the person lived at the current address?
- What does she/he do during the day, i.e. the daily routine?
- What do neighbours and friends say about the person?
- Who are his/her visitors and what are his/her eating habits? (You can ask a few others about this.)
- What do you think about the person?