English II End Term: 10 May 2026 (January 2026 term)

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough, my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born.
Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

What does the word “purveyor” in the phrase “a purveyor of fast ‘ethnic’ food” mean?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born. Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. This is an example of a _____ sentence.

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough, my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born.
Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

Select out the phrase that has a gerund in it. Yet within months,/ my parents/ started cataloguing/ the differences between us and them.

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born. Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

Whom does the narrator refer to as “the good analyst”?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough, my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born.
Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

To whom did the narrator’s parents refer to as “we” when they obsessed over the differences between “us” and “them”?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born. Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

In the phrase “a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions,” which of the following is NOT an adverb?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough, my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born.
Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

Which of the following was not one among the items of difference that the narrator’s parents observed between “us” and “them”?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born. Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

Which of the following was not one among the items of difference that the narrator’s parents observed between “us” and “them”?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough, my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born.
Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. This is a _____ sentence

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born. Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

Fill in the blank using the correct option. The narrator’s mother found employment _____.

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough, my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born.
Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

In the phrase “a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions,” which of the following is NOT an adjective?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born. Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

What did the narrator feel when listening to his family friend outline a substratum of differences between “us” and “them”?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough, my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born.
Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

Fill in the blank using the correct option. The narrator’s father found employment _____.

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born. Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

What does the word “proclivity” in the phrase “our simmering proclivities” mean?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough, my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born.
Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

Why, according to the narrator’s parents, is it foolish to go out with wet hair?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born. Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

At the beginning of their Canadian residence, what did the narrator’s parents’ social life consist of?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough, my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born.
Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

According to the narrator’s family friend, what is the ultimate, transcendental difference between “us” and “them”?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born. Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

Which of the following is true according to what was said by the narrator’s family friend?

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough, my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born.
Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

State true or false on the basis of your reading of the passage.
Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. The narrator finds this food-preparation analysis sensible and agrees with it.

Read the following passage and answer the given subquestions.
In December 1993, my sister and parents arrived as refugees in Hamilton, Ontario. In the first couple of months, my parents attended English-language courses, while Kristina worked at Taco Bell, a purveyor of fast “ethnic” food, which she preferred to refer to as Taco Hell. Things were very complicated for them, what with the language my parents couldn’t speak, the generic shock of displacement, and a cold climate that was extremely unfriendly to randomly warm human interactions. For my parents, finding a job was a frightening operation of major proportions, but Hamilton is a steel-mill town teeming with job-hungry immigrants, where many of the natives are first-generation Canadians and therefore friendly, and supportive of their new compatriots. Soon enough my parents did find work—Father at a steel mill, Mother as a superintendent in a large apartment building, in which many of the tenants were foreign-born. Yet within months, my parents started cataloguing the differences between us and them—we being Bosnians or ex-Yugoslavs, they being purely Canadian. That list of differences, theoretically endless, included items such as sour cream (our sour cream—mileram—was creamier and tastier than theirs); smiles (they smile, but don’t really mean it); babies (they do not bundle up their babies in severe cold); wet hair (they go out with their hair wet, foolishly exposing themselves to the possibility of lethal brain inflammation); clothes (their clothes fall apart after you wash them a few times), et cetera. My parents, of course, were not the only ones obsessing over the differences. Indeed, their social life at the beginning of their Canadian residence largely consisted of meeting people from the old country and exchanging and discussing the perceived dissimilarities. Once I listened to a family friend in what could fairly be called astonishment as he outlined a substratum of differences proceeding from his observation that we like to simmer our food for a long time (sarma, cabbage rolls, being a perfect example), while they just dip it in extremely hot oil and cook it in a blink. Our simmering proclivities were reflective of our love of eating and, by extension and obviously, of our love of life. On the other hand, they didn’t really know how to live, which pointed at the ultimate, transcendental difference—we had soul, and they were soulless. The fact that—even if the food-preparation analysis made any sense—they did not love committing atrocities either and that we were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, which under no circumstances could be construed as love of life, didn’t at all trouble the good analyst.
Excerpted from: Hemon, Aleksandar. The Book of My Lives. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.

State true or false on the basis of your reading of the passage. The Bosnians/ex-Yugoslavians were at the center of a brutal, bloody war, and the narrator, in agreement with the good analyst, thinks that this can be construed as their love of life.

Read the following email and answer the given subquestions.
From: X@mailbox.com
To: director@chennaicorporation.com
Subject: _____________: Stray Dog Issue in Saligramam
_____________,
I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to bring attention to a pressing concern in our community – the increasing number of stray dogs in Saligramam. This issue poses risks to public safety and the well-being of both residents and the animals.
I kindly request your intervention to address this matter promptly. Implementing measures such as increased animal control efforts, sterilization programs, and public awareness campaigns would greatly contribute to resolving the situation.
Your swift action on this issue is crucial, and I appreciate your attention to creating a safer environment for our community.
_______________________________________.
Best regards,
X

Choose the appropriate option to prefix the Subject line.

What is this email about?

Read the following email and answer the given subquestions.
From: X@mailbox.com
To: director@chennaicorporation.com
Subject: _____________: Stray Dog Issue in Saligramam
_____________,
I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to bring attention to a pressing concern in our community – the increasing number of stray dogs in Saligramam. This issue poses risks to public safety and the well-being of both residents and the animals.
I kindly request your intervention to address this matter promptly. Implementing measures such as increased animal control efforts, sterilization programs, and public awareness campaigns would greatly contribute to resolving the situation.
Your swift action on this issue is crucial, and I appreciate your attention to creating a safer environment for our community.
_______________________________________.
Best regards,
X

Choose the appropriate salutation.

Choose the appropriate subject line for this e-mail.

Read the following email and answer the given subquestions.
From: X@mailbox.com
To: director@chennaicorporation.com
Subject: _____________: Stray Dog Issue in Saligramam
_____________,
I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to bring attention to a pressing concern in our community – the increasing number of stray dogs in Saligramam. This issue poses risks to public safety and the well-being of both residents and the animals.
I kindly request your intervention to address this matter promptly. Implementing measures such as increased animal control efforts, sterilization programs, and public awareness campaigns would greatly contribute to resolving the situation.
Your swift action on this issue is crucial, and I appreciate your attention to creating a safer environment for our community.
_______________________________________.
Best regards,
X

What word in the second paragraph of the email conveys an urgent tone?

What kind of language does the sender use to describe the team's efforts?

Read the following email and answer the given subquestions.
From: X@mailbox.com
To: director@chennaicorporation.com
Subject: _____________: Stray Dog Issue in Saligramam
_____________,
I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to bring attention to a pressing concern in our community – the increasing number of stray dogs in Saligramam. This issue poses risks to public safety and the well-being of both residents and the animals.
I kindly request your intervention to address this matter promptly. Implementing measures such as increased animal control efforts, sterilization programs, and public awareness campaigns would greatly contribute to resolving the situation.
Your swift action on this issue is crucial, and I appreciate your attention to creating a safer environment for our community.
_______________________________________.
Best regards,
X

Suppose the corporation didn't respond even after a week. Which of the following statements would be appropriate to include in a reminder mail? Keep in mind that the stray dog problems are getting worse by the day but remember to keep the language clean and 'decent'.

Choose the appropriate sign-off phrase

Read the following email and answer the given subquestions.
From: X@mailbox.com
To: director@chennaicorporation.com
Subject: _____________: Stray Dog Issue in Saligramam
_____________,
I hope this email finds you well. I am writing to bring attention to a pressing concern in our community – the increasing number of stray dogs in Saligramam. This issue poses risks to public safety and the well-being of both residents and the animals.
I kindly request your intervention to address this matter promptly. Implementing measures such as increased animal control efforts, sterilization programs, and public awareness campaigns would greatly contribute to resolving the situation.
Your swift action on this issue is crucial, and I appreciate your attention to creating a safer environment for our community.
_______________________________________.
Best regards,
X

Choose an appropriate closing line for the mail.

What does the sender intend to provide through this e-mail?

Match the following.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Aero-

Match the following.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Impromptu

Match the following.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Geo-

Match the following.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Ad hoc

Match the following.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Hypo-

Match the following.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Bona fide

Match the following.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Hemi-

Match the following.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Quid pro quo

Match the following.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Inter-

Match the following.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

De facto

Fill in the blanks with correct expressions of numbers/values/quantity
India has made (1) _____________ progress in ending open defecation across the country, which significantly impacts improving water, sanitation and hygiene (WASH). In 2015, nearly half of India’s population of around 568 (2) ___________ people suffered the indignity of defecating in fields, forests, bodies of water, or other public spaces due to a lack of access to toilets. India alone accounted for 90 (3) ____________ of the people in South Asia and (4) _______________ half of the 1.2 billion people in the world that defecated in the open. UNICEF extended the objective of eradicating open defecation to effective solid and liquid waste management in all cities and villages. By 2019, according to the latest estimates, the number of people without access to toilets has reduced (5) _______________ by an estimated 450 million people.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Choose the correct answer for blank (1).

Fill in the blanks with correct expressions of numbers/values/quantity. India has made (1) _____________ progress in ending open defecation across the country, which significantly impacts improving water, sanitation and hygiene (WASH). In 2015, nearly half of India’s population of around 568 (2) ___________ people suffered the indignity of defecating in fields, forests, bodies of water, or other public spaces due to a lack of access to toilets. India alone accounted for 90 (3) ____________ of the people in South Asia and (4) _______________ half of the 1.2 billion people in the world that defecated in the open. UNICEF extended the objective of eradicating open defecation to effective solid and liquid waste management in all cities and villages. By 2019, according to the latest estimates, the number of people without access to toilets has reduced (5) _______________ by an estimated 450 million people.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Choose the correct answer for blank (1).

Fill in the blanks with correct expressions of numbers/values/quantity
India has made (1) _____________ progress in ending open defecation across the country, which significantly impacts improving water, sanitation and hygiene (WASH). In 2015, nearly half of India’s population of around 568 (2) ___________ people suffered the indignity of defecating in fields, forests, bodies of water, or other public spaces due to a lack of access to toilets. India alone accounted for 90 (3) ____________ of the people in South Asia and (4) _______________ half of the 1.2 billion people in the world that defecated in the open. UNICEF extended the objective of eradicating open defecation to effective solid and liquid waste management in all cities and villages. By 2019, according to the latest estimates, the number of people without access to toilets has reduced (5) _______________ by an estimated 450 million people.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Choose the correct answer for blank (2).

Fill in the blanks with correct expressions of numbers/values/quantity. India has made (1) _____________ progress in ending open defecation across the country, which significantly impacts improving water, sanitation and hygiene (WASH). In 2015, nearly half of India’s population of around 568 (2) ___________ people suffered the indignity of defecating in fields, forests, bodies of water, or other public spaces due to a lack of access to toilets. India alone accounted for 90 (3) ____________ of the people in South Asia and (4) _______________ half of the 1.2 billion people in the world that defecated in the open. UNICEF extended the objective of eradicating open defecation to effective solid and liquid waste management in all cities and villages. By 2019, according to the latest estimates, the number of people without access to toilets has reduced (5) _______________ by an estimated 450 million people.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Choose the correct answer for blank (2).

Fill in the blanks with correct expressions of numbers/values/quantity
India has made (1) _____________ progress in ending open defecation across the country, which significantly impacts improving water, sanitation and hygiene (WASH). In 2015, nearly half of India’s population of around 568 (2) ___________ people suffered the indignity of defecating in fields, forests, bodies of water, or other public spaces due to a lack of access to toilets. India alone accounted for 90 (3) ____________ of the people in South Asia and (4) _______________ half of the 1.2 billion people in the world that defecated in the open. UNICEF extended the objective of eradicating open defecation to effective solid and liquid waste management in all cities and villages. By 2019, according to the latest estimates, the number of people without access to toilets has reduced (5) _______________ by an estimated 450 million people.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Choose the correct answer for blank (3).

Fill in the blanks with correct expressions of numbers/values/quantity. India has made (1) _____________ progress in ending open defecation across the country, which significantly impacts improving water, sanitation and hygiene (WASH). In 2015, nearly half of India’s population of around 568 (2) ___________ people suffered the indignity of defecating in fields, forests, bodies of water, or other public spaces due to a lack of access to toilets. India alone accounted for 90 (3) ____________ of the people in South Asia and (4) _______________ half of the 1.2 billion people in the world that defecated in the open. UNICEF extended the objective of eradicating open defecation to effective solid and liquid waste management in all cities and villages. By 2019, according to the latest estimates, the number of people without access to toilets has reduced (5) _______________ by an estimated 450 million people.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Choose the correct answer for blank (3).

Fill in the blanks with correct expressions of numbers/values/quantity
India has made (1) _____________ progress in ending open defecation across the country, which significantly impacts improving water, sanitation and hygiene (WASH). In 2015, nearly half of India’s population of around 568 (2) ___________ people suffered the indignity of defecating in fields, forests, bodies of water, or other public spaces due to a lack of access to toilets. India alone accounted for 90 (3) ____________ of the people in South Asia and (4) _______________ half of the 1.2 billion people in the world that defecated in the open. UNICEF extended the objective of eradicating open defecation to effective solid and liquid waste management in all cities and villages. By 2019, according to the latest estimates, the number of people without access to toilets has reduced (5) _______________ by an estimated 450 million people.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Choose the correct answer for blank (4).

Fill in the blanks with correct expressions of numbers/values/quantity. India has made (1) _____________ progress in ending open defecation across the country, which significantly impacts improving water, sanitation and hygiene (WASH). In 2015, nearly half of India’s population of around 568 (2) ___________ people suffered the indignity of defecating in fields, forests, bodies of water, or other public spaces due to a lack of access to toilets. India alone accounted for 90 (3) ____________ of the people in South Asia and (4) _______________ half of the 1.2 billion people in the world that defecated in the open. UNICEF extended the objective of eradicating open defecation to effective solid and liquid waste management in all cities and villages. By 2019, according to the latest estimates, the number of people without access to toilets has reduced (5) _______________ by an estimated 450 million people.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Choose the correct answer for blank (4).

Fill in the blanks with correct expressions of numbers/values/quantity
India has made (1) _____________ progress in ending open defecation across the country, which significantly impacts improving water, sanitation and hygiene (WASH). In 2015, nearly half of India’s population of around 568 (2) ___________ people suffered the indignity of defecating in fields, forests, bodies of water, or other public spaces due to a lack of access to toilets. India alone accounted for 90 (3) ____________ of the people in South Asia and (4) _______________ half of the 1.2 billion people in the world that defecated in the open. UNICEF extended the objective of eradicating open defecation to effective solid and liquid waste management in all cities and villages. By 2019, according to the latest estimates, the number of people without access to toilets has reduced (5) _______________ by an estimated 450 million people.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Choose the correct answer for blank (5).

Fill in the blanks with correct expressions of numbers/values/quantity. India has made (1) _____________ progress in ending open defecation across the country, which significantly impacts improving water, sanitation and hygiene (WASH). In 2015, nearly half of India’s population of around 568 (2) ___________ people suffered the indignity of defecating in fields, forests, bodies of water, or other public spaces due to a lack of access to toilets. India alone accounted for 90 (3) ____________ of the people in South Asia and (4) _______________ half of the 1.2 billion people in the world that defecated in the open. UNICEF extended the objective of eradicating open defecation to effective solid and liquid waste management in all cities and villages. By 2019, according to the latest estimates, the number of people without access to toilets has reduced (5) _______________ by an estimated 450 million people.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Choose the correct answer for blank (5).

Read the conversation given below and fill in the blanks with the appropriate discourse markers. Observe the tone and the punctuation of the passage and choose only the most fitting answer for every blank.
Policeman: Does Jake Brockman live here?
Mother: Uh…yes. Is there a problem?
Mother (inside, to her son): There is a policeman here to see you.
Son: Ugh bollocks!
Mother: Would you care to expand on that?
Son: [i] _____, there was this incident. Tommo turned up with an old bag of fireworks and he thought it’d be a laugh if we let off this rocket. [ii] _____, he kind of crashed it into the doors of a church.
Mother: What the…Did anyone see this?
Son: [iii] _____, the people walking out of the carol service soiree.
Mother: What?!
Son: [iv] _____! No one got hurt. I mean, the donkey panicked a bit.
Mother: Donkey?! Son: It’s okay, he didn’t have Mary on his back. Although it did run off and knock over one of the three wise men. [v] _____, he was fine as well!
Transcribed from: “It's Not a Christmas Party Until The Police Show Up | Outnumbered.” YouTube, uploaded by Hat Trick, 23 Dec. 2020.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Fill in blank [i] with the most fitting discourse marker among the options given below.

Read the conversation given below and fill in the blanks with the appropriate discourse markers. Observe the tone and the punctuation of the passage and choose only the most fitting answer for every blank. Two Art Inspectors Visit Scotland’s Scone Palace to Study an Intriguing Portrait Lady Mansfield, current owner of the painting: We keep the picture in here. Philip Mould (taking in the picture): [i] _____, it’s wonderful to see this in the flesh, isn’t it? Fiona Bruce: How beautiful! LM: It is a lovely image, isn’t it? PM: This is Lady Elizabeth Finch Hatton and her mixed race cousin Dido Belle. They are thought to have been painted in the late 1770s or early 1780s, a time when Britain was still heavily engaged in the transatlantic slave trade. So, the way it portrays the girls together is highly unusual. This is so important. This is so significant in the history of British portraiture– a black and a white subject shown as equals in a formal setting. FB: [ii] _____, you wouldn’t get an image of a black person and a white person together like this, in Britain at least, until, what, [iii] _____, the 1960s or something like that, so this was so ahead of its time. LM: It’s incredibly unusual. Narration: Dido Belle was born into slavery. She was the illegitimate daughter of John Lindsay, an officer in the Royal Navy. Her mother was a slave in the British West Indies. At the age of four, Dido Belle was brought to Britain by Lindsay and adopted by his uncle William Murray, the first Lord Mansfield. It was Manfield himself who commissioned the painting of his two great nieces. For over a century, this picture has been credited to Johan Zoffany, a German-born painter who specialized in both society portraits and theatrical subjects, but today, the art world is convinced that this attribution is not correct. LM: It’s pretty well confirmed that it is not Zoffany, but we actually don’t have a clue who the artist is. PM: Well, I mean, the problem is– [iv] _____ the excitement is– that there’s a huge pool of possibilities. This is a great flowering moment in British portrait painting. FB: And that’s not the only thing because the inscription says “The Lady Elizabeth Finch Hatton.” There is no mention of Dido Belle at all. LM: Absolutely. PM: [v] _____, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could not only add Belle’s name but the name of an artist on that label as well? LM: That would be fantastic. This whodunit could help our understanding of the lives of black Britons in a turbulent time in our history. Transcribed and adapted from: “Two Unknown Paintings Send Art Detectives on Fascinating Journey | Fake or Fortune?.” YouTube, uploaded by Perspective, 25 Mar. 2023.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Fill in the blank [i] with the most fitting discourse marker among the options given below.

Read the conversation given below and fill in the blanks with the appropriate discourse markers. Observe the tone and the punctuation of the passage and choose only the most fitting answer for every blank.
Policeman: Does Jake Brockman live here?
Mother: Uh…yes. Is there a problem?
Mother (inside, to her son): There is a policeman here to see you.
Son: Ugh bollocks!
Mother: Would you care to expand on that?
Son: [i] _____, there was this incident. Tommo turned up with an old bag of fireworks and he thought it’d be a laugh if we let off this rocket. [ii] _____, he kind of crashed it into the doors of a church.
Mother: What the…Did anyone see this?
Son: [iii] _____, the people walking out of the carol service soiree.
Mother: What?!
Son: [iv] _____! No one got hurt. I mean, the donkey panicked a bit.
Mother: Donkey?! Son: It’s okay, he didn’t have Mary on his back. Although it did run off and knock over one of the three wise men. [v] _____, he was fine as well!
Transcribed from: “It's Not a Christmas Party Until The Police Show Up | Outnumbered.” YouTube, uploaded by Hat Trick, 23 Dec. 2020.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Fill in blank [ii] with the most fitting discourse marker among the options given below.

Read the conversation given below and fill in the blanks with the appropriate discourse markers. Observe the tone and the punctuation of the passage and choose only the most fitting answer for every blank. Two Art Inspectors Visit Scotland’s Scone Palace to Study an Intriguing Portrait Lady Mansfield, current owner of the painting: We keep the picture in here. Philip Mould (taking in the picture): [i] _____, it’s wonderful to see this in the flesh, isn’t it? Fiona Bruce: How beautiful! LM: It is a lovely image, isn’t it? PM: This is Lady Elizabeth Finch Hatton and her mixed race cousin Dido Belle. They are thought to have been painted in the late 1770s or early 1780s, a time when Britain was still heavily engaged in the transatlantic slave trade. So, the way it portrays the girls together is highly unusual. This is so important. This is so significant in the history of British portraiture– a black and a white subject shown as equals in a formal setting. FB: [ii] _____, you wouldn’t get an image of a black person and a white person together like this, in Britain at least, until, what, [iii] _____, the 1960s or something like that, so this was so ahead of its time. LM: It’s incredibly unusual. Narration: Dido Belle was born into slavery. She was the illegitimate daughter of John Lindsay, an officer in the Royal Navy. Her mother was a slave in the British West Indies. At the age of four, Dido Belle was brought to Britain by Lindsay and adopted by his uncle William Murray, the first Lord Mansfield. It was Manfield himself who commissioned the painting of his two great nieces. For over a century, this picture has been credited to Johan Zoffany, a German-born painter who specialized in both society portraits and theatrical subjects, but today, the art world is convinced that this attribution is not correct. LM: It’s pretty well confirmed that it is not Zoffany, but we actually don’t have a clue who the artist is. PM: Well, I mean, the problem is– [iv] _____ the excitement is– that there’s a huge pool of possibilities. This is a great flowering moment in British portrait painting. FB: And that’s not the only thing because the inscription says “The Lady Elizabeth Finch Hatton.” There is no mention of Dido Belle at all. LM: Absolutely. PM: [v] _____, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could not only add Belle’s name but the name of an artist on that label as well? LM: That would be fantastic. This whodunit could help our understanding of the lives of black Britons in a turbulent time in our history. Transcribed and adapted from: “Two Unknown Paintings Send Art Detectives on Fascinating Journey | Fake or Fortune?.” YouTube, uploaded by Perspective, 25 Mar. 2023.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Fill in the blank [ii] with the most fitting discourse marker among the options given below.

Read the conversation given below and fill in the blanks with the appropriate discourse markers. Observe the tone and the punctuation of the passage and choose only the most fitting answer for every blank.
Policeman: Does Jake Brockman live here?
Mother: Uh…yes. Is there a problem?
Mother (inside, to her son): There is a policeman here to see you.
Son: Ugh bollocks!
Mother: Would you care to expand on that?
Son: [i] _____, there was this incident. Tommo turned up with an old bag of fireworks and he thought it’d be a laugh if we let off this rocket. [ii] _____, he kind of crashed it into the doors of a church.
Mother: What the…Did anyone see this?
Son: [iii] _____, the people walking out of the carol service soiree.
Mother: What?!
Son: [iv] _____! No one got hurt. I mean, the donkey panicked a bit.
Mother: Donkey?! Son: It’s okay, he didn’t have Mary on his back. Although it did run off and knock over one of the three wise men. [v] _____, he was fine as well!
Transcribed from: “It's Not a Christmas Party Until The Police Show Up | Outnumbered.” YouTube, uploaded by Hat Trick, 23 Dec. 2020.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Fill in blank [iii] with the most fitting discourse marker among the options given below.

Read the conversation given below and fill in the blanks with the appropriate discourse markers. Observe the tone and the punctuation of the passage and choose only the most fitting answer for every blank. Two Art Inspectors Visit Scotland’s Scone Palace to Study an Intriguing Portrait Lady Mansfield, current owner of the painting: We keep the picture in here. Philip Mould (taking in the picture): [i] _____, it’s wonderful to see this in the flesh, isn’t it? Fiona Bruce: How beautiful! LM: It is a lovely image, isn’t it? PM: This is Lady Elizabeth Finch Hatton and her mixed race cousin Dido Belle. They are thought to have been painted in the late 1770s or early 1780s, a time when Britain was still heavily engaged in the transatlantic slave trade. So, the way it portrays the girls together is highly unusual. This is so important. This is so significant in the history of British portraiture– a black and a white subject shown as equals in a formal setting. FB: [ii] _____, you wouldn’t get an image of a black person and a white person together like this, in Britain at least, until, what, [iii] _____, the 1960s or something like that, so this was so ahead of its time. LM: It’s incredibly unusual. Narration: Dido Belle was born into slavery. She was the illegitimate daughter of John Lindsay, an officer in the Royal Navy. Her mother was a slave in the British West Indies. At the age of four, Dido Belle was brought to Britain by Lindsay and adopted by his uncle William Murray, the first Lord Mansfield. It was Manfield himself who commissioned the painting of his two great nieces. For over a century, this picture has been credited to Johan Zoffany, a German-born painter who specialized in both society portraits and theatrical subjects, but today, the art world is convinced that this attribution is not correct. LM: It’s pretty well confirmed that it is not Zoffany, but we actually don’t have a clue who the artist is. PM: Well, I mean, the problem is– [iv] _____ the excitement is– that there’s a huge pool of possibilities. This is a great flowering moment in British portrait painting. FB: And that’s not the only thing because the inscription says “The Lady Elizabeth Finch Hatton.” There is no mention of Dido Belle at all. LM: Absolutely. PM: [v] _____, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could not only add Belle’s name but the name of an artist on that label as well? LM: That would be fantastic. This whodunit could help our understanding of the lives of black Britons in a turbulent time in our history. Transcribed and adapted from: “Two Unknown Paintings Send Art Detectives on Fascinating Journey | Fake or Fortune?.” YouTube, uploaded by Perspective, 25 Mar. 2023.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Fill in the blank [iii] with the most fitting discourse marker among the options given below.

Read the conversation given below and fill in the blanks with the appropriate discourse markers. Observe the tone and the punctuation of the passage and choose only the most fitting answer for every blank.
Policeman: Does Jake Brockman live here?
Mother: Uh…yes. Is there a problem?
Mother (inside, to her son): There is a policeman here to see you.
Son: Ugh bollocks!
Mother: Would you care to expand on that?
Son: [i] _____, there was this incident. Tommo turned up with an old bag of fireworks and he thought it’d be a laugh if we let off this rocket. [ii] _____, he kind of crashed it into the doors of a church.
Mother: What the…Did anyone see this?
Son: [iii] _____, the people walking out of the carol service soiree.
Mother: What?!
Son: [iv] _____! No one got hurt. I mean, the donkey panicked a bit.
Mother: Donkey?! Son: It’s okay, he didn’t have Mary on his back. Although it did run off and knock over one of the three wise men. [v] _____, he was fine as well!
Transcribed from: “It's Not a Christmas Party Until The Police Show Up | Outnumbered.” YouTube, uploaded by Hat Trick, 23 Dec. 2020.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Fill in blank [iv] with the most fitting discourse marker among the options given below.

Read the conversation given below and fill in the blanks with the appropriate discourse markers. Observe the tone and the punctuation of the passage and choose only the most fitting answer for every blank. Two Art Inspectors Visit Scotland’s Scone Palace to Study an Intriguing Portrait Lady Mansfield, current owner of the painting: We keep the picture in here. Philip Mould (taking in the picture): [i] _____, it’s wonderful to see this in the flesh, isn’t it? Fiona Bruce: How beautiful! LM: It is a lovely image, isn’t it? PM: This is Lady Elizabeth Finch Hatton and her mixed race cousin Dido Belle. They are thought to have been painted in the late 1770s or early 1780s, a time when Britain was still heavily engaged in the transatlantic slave trade. So, the way it portrays the girls together is highly unusual. This is so important. This is so significant in the history of British portraiture– a black and a white subject shown as equals in a formal setting. FB: [ii] _____, you wouldn’t get an image of a black person and a white person together like this, in Britain at least, until, what, [iii] _____, the 1960s or something like that, so this was so ahead of its time. LM: It’s incredibly unusual. Narration: Dido Belle was born into slavery. She was the illegitimate daughter of John Lindsay, an officer in the Royal Navy. Her mother was a slave in the British West Indies. At the age of four, Dido Belle was brought to Britain by Lindsay and adopted by his uncle William Murray, the first Lord Mansfield. It was Manfield himself who commissioned the painting of his two great nieces. For over a century, this picture has been credited to Johan Zoffany, a German-born painter who specialized in both society portraits and theatrical subjects, but today, the art world is convinced that this attribution is not correct. LM: It’s pretty well confirmed that it is not Zoffany, but we actually don’t have a clue who the artist is. PM: Well, I mean, the problem is– [iv] _____ the excitement is– that there’s a huge pool of possibilities. This is a great flowering moment in British portrait painting. FB: And that’s not the only thing because the inscription says “The Lady Elizabeth Finch Hatton.” There is no mention of Dido Belle at all. LM: Absolutely. PM: [v] _____, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could not only add Belle’s name but the name of an artist on that label as well? LM: That would be fantastic. This whodunit could help our understanding of the lives of black Britons in a turbulent time in our history. Transcribed and adapted from: “Two Unknown Paintings Send Art Detectives on Fascinating Journey | Fake or Fortune?.” YouTube, uploaded by Perspective, 25 Mar. 2023.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Fill in the blank [iv] with the most fitting discourse marker among the options given below.

Read the conversation given below and fill in the blanks with the appropriate discourse markers. Observe the tone and the punctuation of the passage and choose only the most fitting answer for every blank.
Policeman: Does Jake Brockman live here?
Mother: Uh…yes. Is there a problem?
Mother (inside, to her son): There is a policeman here to see you.
Son: Ugh bollocks!
Mother: Would you care to expand on that?
Son: [i] _____, there was this incident. Tommo turned up with an old bag of fireworks and he thought it’d be a laugh if we let off this rocket. [ii] _____, he kind of crashed it into the doors of a church.
Mother: What the…Did anyone see this?
Son: [iii] _____, the people walking out of the carol service soiree.
Mother: What?!
Son: [iv] _____! No one got hurt. I mean, the donkey panicked a bit.
Mother: Donkey?! Son: It’s okay, he didn’t have Mary on his back. Although it did run off and knock over one of the three wise men. [v] _____, he was fine as well!
Transcribed from: “It's Not a Christmas Party Until The Police Show Up | Outnumbered.” YouTube, uploaded by Hat Trick, 23 Dec. 2020.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Fill in blank [v] with the most fitting discourse marker among the options given below.

Read the conversation given below and fill in the blanks with the appropriate discourse markers. Observe the tone and the punctuation of the passage and choose only the most fitting answer for every blank. Two Art Inspectors Visit Scotland’s Scone Palace to Study an Intriguing Portrait Lady Mansfield, current owner of the painting: We keep the picture in here. Philip Mould (taking in the picture): [i] _____, it’s wonderful to see this in the flesh, isn’t it? Fiona Bruce: How beautiful! LM: It is a lovely image, isn’t it? PM: This is Lady Elizabeth Finch Hatton and her mixed race cousin Dido Belle. They are thought to have been painted in the late 1770s or early 1780s, a time when Britain was still heavily engaged in the transatlantic slave trade. So, the way it portrays the girls together is highly unusual. This is so important. This is so significant in the history of British portraiture– a black and a white subject shown as equals in a formal setting. FB: [ii] _____, you wouldn’t get an image of a black person and a white person together like this, in Britain at least, until, what, [iii] _____, the 1960s or something like that, so this was so ahead of its time. LM: It’s incredibly unusual. Narration: Dido Belle was born into slavery. She was the illegitimate daughter of John Lindsay, an officer in the Royal Navy. Her mother was a slave in the British West Indies. At the age of four, Dido Belle was brought to Britain by Lindsay and adopted by his uncle William Murray, the first Lord Mansfield. It was Manfield himself who commissioned the painting of his two great nieces. For over a century, this picture has been credited to Johan Zoffany, a German-born painter who specialized in both society portraits and theatrical subjects, but today, the art world is convinced that this attribution is not correct. LM: It’s pretty well confirmed that it is not Zoffany, but we actually don’t have a clue who the artist is. PM: Well, I mean, the problem is– [iv] _____ the excitement is– that there’s a huge pool of possibilities. This is a great flowering moment in British portrait painting. FB: And that’s not the only thing because the inscription says “The Lady Elizabeth Finch Hatton.” There is no mention of Dido Belle at all. LM: Absolutely. PM: [v] _____, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could not only add Belle’s name but the name of an artist on that label as well? LM: That would be fantastic. This whodunit could help our understanding of the lives of black Britons in a turbulent time in our history. Transcribed and adapted from: “Two Unknown Paintings Send Art Detectives on Fascinating Journey | Fake or Fortune?.” YouTube, uploaded by Perspective, 25 Mar. 2023.
Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Fill in the blank [v] with the most fitting discourse marker among the options given below.

Below are parts of an essay, “The Free Dogs of India” from Aeon, which argues for rethinking dominant attitudes towards free-living dogs. Read the paragraphs and answer the given subquestions .
Unbound by human owners and the constraints of petdom, they live the doggiest of dog lives: they sleep when they want, mingle with friends they choose, pee when the urge hits, and eat when hungry – as long as food can be found. Wandering the streets of Chennai in southern India, we saw them dozing alone or in company on pavements, seeking shelter from the heat under a van, watching children playing on the beach, or being cared for by local residents. Part of Indian street life, these free-living dogs stand in stark contrast to the culture of pet ownership found in the West. Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.
India’s robust street dogs also challenge the supposed superiority of pedigree that dominates dog breeding today. One of us recently adopted a street dog from Romania. Bell Kanmani was brought to the United Kingdom by one of the many charities picking up street dogs there and finding them new homes abroad. While walking her in the UK, Bell Kanmani’s human is regularly confronted with the question ‘What breed is your dog?’ The response that she is just a ‘dog’ only serves to prompt further speculation about what mix of breeds she might be: everything from a collie to a Jack Russell. Having grown up in India, Kanmani’s human finds strange, and rather disturbing, this idea of dogs as necessarily belonging to a particular breed or mixture of breeds. She is familiar with dogs who have lineages free of any human breeding, not necessarily belonging to humans or doing what humans command them to. These unowned and breed-free dogs are now often known as street or village dogs, or – our preferred term – free-living dogs.
Too often in the West, dogs are seen through the prism of pedigree, and connected to their owner via collars and leashes. All too often, the realities of how dogs and humans live together in the Global South are overlooked. As a country with a significant street-dog population, India is a good place from which to explore how humans and canines share street life in cooperative ways that move beyond images of free-living dogs as dangerous.
Exposing the reality is crucial, given the rising media calls for culling Indian street dogs, exposing them to rhetorical and actual violence. The condemnation of street dogs as risky and unwelcome is rooted in colonial attitudes, and overlooks complex and varied everyday interactions, often positive, between dogs and humans. Discussing their lived experience will help the dogs themselves, and also help us reflect on how humankind can share the planet with all the other creatures who live on it.

What rationale does the passage argue for the description of free-living dogs in Chennai in its opening paragraph?
i. While walking her in the UK, Bell Kanmani’s human is regularly confronted with the question ‘What breed is your dog?’ ii. As a country with a significant street-dog population, India is a good place from which to explore how humans and canines share street life in cooperative ways that move beyond images of free-living dogs as dangerous. iii. Discussing their lived experience will help the dogs themselves, and also help us reflect on how humankind can share the planet with all the other creatures who live on it.

Below are parts of an essay, “The Free Dogs of India” from Aeon, which argues for rethinking dominant attitudes towards free-living dogs. Read the paragraphs and answer the given subquestions.
Unbound by human owners and the constraints of petdom, they live the doggiest of dog lives: they sleep when they want, mingle with friends they choose, pee when the urge hits, and eat when hungry – as long as food can be found. Wandering the streets of Chennai in southern India, we saw them dozing alone or in company on pavements, seeking shelter from the heat under a van, watching children playing on the beach, or being cared for by local residents. Part of Indian street life, these free-living dogs stand in stark contrast to the culture of pet ownership found in the West. Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.
India’s robust street dogs also challenge the supposed superiority of pedigree that dominates dog breeding today. One of us recently adopted a street dog from Romania. Bell Kanmani was brought to the United Kingdom by one of the many charities picking up street dogs there and finding them new homes abroad. While walking her in the UK, Bell Kanmani’s human is regularly confronted with the question ‘What breed is your dog?’ The response that she is just a ‘dog’ only serves to prompt further speculation about what mix of breeds she might be: everything from a collie to a Jack Russell. Having grown up in India, Kanmani’s human finds strange, and rather disturbing, this idea of dogs as necessarily belonging to a particular breed or mixture of breeds. She is familiar with dogs who have lineages free of any human breeding, not necessarily belonging to humans or doing what humans command them to. These unowned and breed-free dogs are now often known as street or village dogs, or – our preferred term – free-living dogs.
Too often in the West, dogs are seen through the prism of pedigree, and connected to their owner via collars and leashes. All too often, the realities of how dogs and humans live together in the Global South are overlooked. As a country with a significant street-dog population, India is a good place from which to explore how humans and canines share street life in cooperative ways that move beyond images of free-living dogs as dangerous.
Exposing the reality is crucial given rising media calls for culling Indian street dogs, exposing them to rhetorical and actual violence. The condemnation of street dogs as risky and unwelcome is rooted in colonial attitudes, and overlooks complex and varied everyday interactions, often positive, between dogs and humans. Discussing their lived experience will help the dogs themselves, and also help us reflect on how humankind can share the planet with all the other creatures who live on it.
“Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.”

Why is the “not only … but also” structure important here? i. It introduces a historical reference to strengthen the argument ii. It links the example of dogs to a broader ecological and ethical concern iii. It weakens the argument by making it too general

Below are parts of an essay, “The Free Dogs of India” from Aeon, which argues for rethinking dominant attitudes towards free-living dogs. Read the paragraphs and answer the given subquestions .
Unbound by human owners and the constraints of petdom, they live the doggiest of dog lives: they sleep when they want, mingle with friends they choose, pee when the urge hits, and eat when hungry – as long as food can be found. Wandering the streets of Chennai in southern India, we saw them dozing alone or in company on pavements, seeking shelter from the heat under a van, watching children playing on the beach, or being cared for by local residents. Part of Indian street life, these free-living dogs stand in stark contrast to the culture of pet ownership found in the West. Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.
India’s robust street dogs also challenge the supposed superiority of pedigree that dominates dog breeding today. One of us recently adopted a street dog from Romania. Bell Kanmani was brought to the United Kingdom by one of the many charities picking up street dogs there and finding them new homes abroad. While walking her in the UK, Bell Kanmani’s human is regularly confronted with the question ‘What breed is your dog?’ The response that she is just a ‘dog’ only serves to prompt further speculation about what mix of breeds she might be: everything from a collie to a Jack Russell. Having grown up in India, Kanmani’s human finds strange, and rather disturbing, this idea of dogs as necessarily belonging to a particular breed or mixture of breeds. She is familiar with dogs who have lineages free of any human breeding, not necessarily belonging to humans or doing what humans command them to. These unowned and breed-free dogs are now often known as street or village dogs, or – our preferred term – free-living dogs.
Too often in the West, dogs are seen through the prism of pedigree, and connected to their owner via collars and leashes. All too often, the realities of how dogs and humans live together in the Global South are overlooked. As a country with a significant street-dog population, India is a good place from which to explore how humans and canines share street life in cooperative ways that move beyond images of free-living dogs as dangerous.
Exposing the reality is crucial, given the rising media calls for culling Indian street dogs, exposing them to rhetorical and actual violence. The condemnation of street dogs as risky and unwelcome is rooted in colonial attitudes, and overlooks complex and varied everyday interactions, often positive, between dogs and humans. Discussing their lived experience will help the dogs themselves, and also help us reflect on how humankind can share the planet with all the other creatures who live on it.

Select the phrase that clearly transitions the text from describing to arguing a point.

Below are parts of an essay, “The Free Dogs of India” from Aeon, which argues for rethinking dominant attitudes towards free-living dogs. Read the paragraphs and answer the given subquestions.
Unbound by human owners and the constraints of petdom, they live the doggiest of dog lives: they sleep when they want, mingle with friends they choose, pee when the urge hits, and eat when hungry – as long as food can be found. Wandering the streets of Chennai in southern India, we saw them dozing alone or in company on pavements, seeking shelter from the heat under a van, watching children playing on the beach, or being cared for by local residents. Part of Indian street life, these free-living dogs stand in stark contrast to the culture of pet ownership found in the West. Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.
India’s robust street dogs also challenge the supposed superiority of pedigree that dominates dog breeding today. One of us recently adopted a street dog from Romania. Bell Kanmani was brought to the United Kingdom by one of the many charities picking up street dogs there and finding them new homes abroad. While walking her in the UK, Bell Kanmani’s human is regularly confronted with the question ‘What breed is your dog?’ The response that she is just a ‘dog’ only serves to prompt further speculation about what mix of breeds she might be: everything from a collie to a Jack Russell. Having grown up in India, Kanmani’s human finds strange, and rather disturbing, this idea of dogs as necessarily belonging to a particular breed or mixture of breeds. She is familiar with dogs who have lineages free of any human breeding, not necessarily belonging to humans or doing what humans command them to. These unowned and breed-free dogs are now often known as street or village dogs, or – our preferred term – free-living dogs.
Too often in the West, dogs are seen through the prism of pedigree, and connected to their owner via collars and leashes. All too often, the realities of how dogs and humans live together in the Global South are overlooked. As a country with a significant street-dog population, India is a good place from which to explore how humans and canines share street life in cooperative ways that move beyond images of free-living dogs as dangerous.
Exposing the reality is crucial given rising media calls for culling Indian street dogs, exposing them to rhetorical and actual violence. The condemnation of street dogs as risky and unwelcome is rooted in colonial attitudes, and overlooks complex and varied everyday interactions, often positive, between dogs and humans. Discussing their lived experience will help the dogs themselves, and also help us reflect on how humankind can share the planet with all the other creatures who live on it.
“Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.”

“Too often in the West, dogs are seen through the prism of pedigree, and connected to their owner via collars and leashes.”
This sentence strengthens the argument by _____.

Below are parts of an essay, “The Free Dogs of India” from Aeon, which argues for rethinking dominant attitudes towards free-living dogs. Read the paragraphs and answer the given subquestions .
Unbound by human owners and the constraints of petdom, they live the doggiest of dog lives: they sleep when they want, mingle with friends they choose, pee when the urge hits, and eat when hungry – as long as food can be found. Wandering the streets of Chennai in southern India, we saw them dozing alone or in company on pavements, seeking shelter from the heat under a van, watching children playing on the beach, or being cared for by local residents. Part of Indian street life, these free-living dogs stand in stark contrast to the culture of pet ownership found in the West. Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.
India’s robust street dogs also challenge the supposed superiority of pedigree that dominates dog breeding today. One of us recently adopted a street dog from Romania. Bell Kanmani was brought to the United Kingdom by one of the many charities picking up street dogs there and finding them new homes abroad. While walking her in the UK, Bell Kanmani’s human is regularly confronted with the question ‘What breed is your dog?’ The response that she is just a ‘dog’ only serves to prompt further speculation about what mix of breeds she might be: everything from a collie to a Jack Russell. Having grown up in India, Kanmani’s human finds strange, and rather disturbing, this idea of dogs as necessarily belonging to a particular breed or mixture of breeds. She is familiar with dogs who have lineages free of any human breeding, not necessarily belonging to humans or doing what humans command them to. These unowned and breed-free dogs are now often known as street or village dogs, or – our preferred term – free-living dogs.
Too often in the West, dogs are seen through the prism of pedigree, and connected to their owner via collars and leashes. All too often, the realities of how dogs and humans live together in the Global South are overlooked. As a country with a significant street-dog population, India is a good place from which to explore how humans and canines share street life in cooperative ways that move beyond images of free-living dogs as dangerous.
Exposing the reality is crucial, given the rising media calls for culling Indian street dogs, exposing them to rhetorical and actual violence. The condemnation of street dogs as risky and unwelcome is rooted in colonial attitudes, and overlooks complex and varied everyday interactions, often positive, between dogs and humans. Discussing their lived experience will help the dogs themselves, and also help us reflect on how humankind can share the planet with all the other creatures who live on it.

Identify the abstract noun that carries argumentative weight in the sentence:
“The condemnation of street dogs as risky and unwelcome is rooted in colonial attitudes.”

Below are parts of an essay, “The Free Dogs of India” from Aeon, which argues for rethinking dominant attitudes towards free-living dogs. Read the paragraphs and answer the given subquestions.
Unbound by human owners and the constraints of petdom, they live the doggiest of dog lives: they sleep when they want, mingle with friends they choose, pee when the urge hits, and eat when hungry – as long as food can be found. Wandering the streets of Chennai in southern India, we saw them dozing alone or in company on pavements, seeking shelter from the heat under a van, watching children playing on the beach, or being cared for by local residents. Part of Indian street life, these free-living dogs stand in stark contrast to the culture of pet ownership found in the West. Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.
India’s robust street dogs also challenge the supposed superiority of pedigree that dominates dog breeding today. One of us recently adopted a street dog from Romania. Bell Kanmani was brought to the United Kingdom by one of the many charities picking up street dogs there and finding them new homes abroad. While walking her in the UK, Bell Kanmani’s human is regularly confronted with the question ‘What breed is your dog?’ The response that she is just a ‘dog’ only serves to prompt further speculation about what mix of breeds she might be: everything from a collie to a Jack Russell. Having grown up in India, Kanmani’s human finds strange, and rather disturbing, this idea of dogs as necessarily belonging to a particular breed or mixture of breeds. She is familiar with dogs who have lineages free of any human breeding, not necessarily belonging to humans or doing what humans command them to. These unowned and breed-free dogs are now often known as street or village dogs, or – our preferred term – free-living dogs.
Too often in the West, dogs are seen through the prism of pedigree, and connected to their owner via collars and leashes. All too often, the realities of how dogs and humans live together in the Global South are overlooked. As a country with a significant street-dog population, India is a good place from which to explore how humans and canines share street life in cooperative ways that move beyond images of free-living dogs as dangerous.
Exposing the reality is crucial given rising media calls for culling Indian street dogs, exposing them to rhetorical and actual violence. The condemnation of street dogs as risky and unwelcome is rooted in colonial attitudes, and overlooks complex and varied everyday interactions, often positive, between dogs and humans. Discussing their lived experience will help the dogs themselves, and also help us reflect on how humankind can share the planet with all the other creatures who live on it.
“Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.”

The concluding sentence of the paragraph primarily

Below are parts of an essay, “The Free Dogs of India” from Aeon, which argues for rethinking dominant attitudes towards free-living dogs. Read the paragraphs and answer the given subquestions .
Unbound by human owners and the constraints of petdom, they live the doggiest of dog lives: they sleep when they want, mingle with friends they choose, pee when the urge hits, and eat when hungry – as long as food can be found. Wandering the streets of Chennai in southern India, we saw them dozing alone or in company on pavements, seeking shelter from the heat under a van, watching children playing on the beach, or being cared for by local residents. Part of Indian street life, these free-living dogs stand in stark contrast to the culture of pet ownership found in the West. Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.
India’s robust street dogs also challenge the supposed superiority of pedigree that dominates dog breeding today. One of us recently adopted a street dog from Romania. Bell Kanmani was brought to the United Kingdom by one of the many charities picking up street dogs there and finding them new homes abroad. While walking her in the UK, Bell Kanmani’s human is regularly confronted with the question ‘What breed is your dog?’ The response that she is just a ‘dog’ only serves to prompt further speculation about what mix of breeds she might be: everything from a collie to a Jack Russell. Having grown up in India, Kanmani’s human finds strange, and rather disturbing, this idea of dogs as necessarily belonging to a particular breed or mixture of breeds. She is familiar with dogs who have lineages free of any human breeding, not necessarily belonging to humans or doing what humans command them to. These unowned and breed-free dogs are now often known as street or village dogs, or – our preferred term – free-living dogs.
Too often in the West, dogs are seen through the prism of pedigree, and connected to their owner via collars and leashes. All too often, the realities of how dogs and humans live together in the Global South are overlooked. As a country with a significant street-dog population, India is a good place from which to explore how humans and canines share street life in cooperative ways that move beyond images of free-living dogs as dangerous.
Exposing the reality is crucial, given the rising media calls for culling Indian street dogs, exposing them to rhetorical and actual violence. The condemnation of street dogs as risky and unwelcome is rooted in colonial attitudes, and overlooks complex and varied everyday interactions, often positive, between dogs and humans. Discussing their lived experience will help the dogs themselves, and also help us reflect on how humankind can share the planet with all the other creatures who live on it.

Which sentence most accurately conveys the author’s argument regarding colonial attitudes?

Below are parts of an essay, “The Free Dogs of India” from Aeon, which argues for rethinking dominant attitudes towards free-living dogs. Read the paragraphs and answer the given subquestions.
Unbound by human owners and the constraints of petdom, they live the doggiest of dog lives: they sleep when they want, mingle with friends they choose, pee when the urge hits, and eat when hungry – as long as food can be found. Wandering the streets of Chennai in southern India, we saw them dozing alone or in company on pavements, seeking shelter from the heat under a van, watching children playing on the beach, or being cared for by local residents. Part of Indian street life, these free-living dogs stand in stark contrast to the culture of pet ownership found in the West. Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.
India’s robust street dogs also challenge the supposed superiority of pedigree that dominates dog breeding today. One of us recently adopted a street dog from Romania. Bell Kanmani was brought to the United Kingdom by one of the many charities picking up street dogs there and finding them new homes abroad. While walking her in the UK, Bell Kanmani’s human is regularly confronted with the question ‘What breed is your dog?’ The response that she is just a ‘dog’ only serves to prompt further speculation about what mix of breeds she might be: everything from a collie to a Jack Russell. Having grown up in India, Kanmani’s human finds strange, and rather disturbing, this idea of dogs as necessarily belonging to a particular breed or mixture of breeds. She is familiar with dogs who have lineages free of any human breeding, not necessarily belonging to humans or doing what humans command them to. These unowned and breed-free dogs are now often known as street or village dogs, or – our preferred term – free-living dogs.
Too often in the West, dogs are seen through the prism of pedigree, and connected to their owner via collars and leashes. All too often, the realities of how dogs and humans live together in the Global South are overlooked. As a country with a significant street-dog population, India is a good place from which to explore how humans and canines share street life in cooperative ways that move beyond images of free-living dogs as dangerous.
Exposing the reality is crucial given rising media calls for culling Indian street dogs, exposing them to rhetorical and actual violence. The condemnation of street dogs as risky and unwelcome is rooted in colonial attitudes, and overlooks complex and varied everyday interactions, often positive, between dogs and humans. Discussing their lived experience will help the dogs themselves, and also help us reflect on how humankind can share the planet with all the other creatures who live on it.
“Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.”

Which option best upgrades the sentence into an argument?
“Free-living dogs are part of Indian street life.”

Below are parts of an essay, “The Free Dogs of India” from Aeon, which argues for rethinking dominant attitudes towards free-living dogs. Read the paragraphs and answer the given subquestions .
Unbound by human owners and the constraints of petdom, they live the doggiest of dog lives: they sleep when they want, mingle with friends they choose, pee when the urge hits, and eat when hungry – as long as food can be found. Wandering the streets of Chennai in southern India, we saw them dozing alone or in company on pavements, seeking shelter from the heat under a van, watching children playing on the beach, or being cared for by local residents. Part of Indian street life, these free-living dogs stand in stark contrast to the culture of pet ownership found in the West. Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.
India’s robust street dogs also challenge the supposed superiority of pedigree that dominates dog breeding today. One of us recently adopted a street dog from Romania. Bell Kanmani was brought to the United Kingdom by one of the many charities picking up street dogs there and finding them new homes abroad. While walking her in the UK, Bell Kanmani’s human is regularly confronted with the question ‘What breed is your dog?’ The response that she is just a ‘dog’ only serves to prompt further speculation about what mix of breeds she might be: everything from a collie to a Jack Russell. Having grown up in India, Kanmani’s human finds strange, and rather disturbing, this idea of dogs as necessarily belonging to a particular breed or mixture of breeds. She is familiar with dogs who have lineages free of any human breeding, not necessarily belonging to humans or doing what humans command them to. These unowned and breed-free dogs are now often known as street or village dogs, or – our preferred term – free-living dogs.
Too often in the West, dogs are seen through the prism of pedigree, and connected to their owner via collars and leashes. All too often, the realities of how dogs and humans live together in the Global South are overlooked. As a country with a significant street-dog population, India is a good place from which to explore how humans and canines share street life in cooperative ways that move beyond images of free-living dogs as dangerous.
Exposing the reality is crucial, given the rising media calls for culling Indian street dogs, exposing them to rhetorical and actual violence. The condemnation of street dogs as risky and unwelcome is rooted in colonial attitudes, and overlooks complex and varied everyday interactions, often positive, between dogs and humans. Discussing their lived experience will help the dogs themselves, and also help us reflect on how humankind can share the planet with all the other creatures who live on it.

“Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.
”Why is the “not only … but also” structure important here?
i. It introduces a historical reference to strengthen the argument ii. It links the example of dogs to a broader ecological and ethical concern iii. It weakens the argument by making it too general

Below are parts of an essay, “The Free Dogs of India” from Aeon, which argues for rethinking dominant attitudes towards free-living dogs. Read the paragraphs and answer the given subquestions.
Unbound by human owners and the constraints of petdom, they live the doggiest of dog lives: they sleep when they want, mingle with friends they choose, pee when the urge hits, and eat when hungry – as long as food can be found. Wandering the streets of Chennai in southern India, we saw them dozing alone or in company on pavements, seeking shelter from the heat under a van, watching children playing on the beach, or being cared for by local residents. Part of Indian street life, these free-living dogs stand in stark contrast to the culture of pet ownership found in the West. Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.
India’s robust street dogs also challenge the supposed superiority of pedigree that dominates dog breeding today. One of us recently adopted a street dog from Romania. Bell Kanmani was brought to the United Kingdom by one of the many charities picking up street dogs there and finding them new homes abroad. While walking her in the UK, Bell Kanmani’s human is regularly confronted with the question ‘What breed is your dog?’ The response that she is just a ‘dog’ only serves to prompt further speculation about what mix of breeds she might be: everything from a collie to a Jack Russell. Having grown up in India, Kanmani’s human finds strange, and rather disturbing, this idea of dogs as necessarily belonging to a particular breed or mixture of breeds. She is familiar with dogs who have lineages free of any human breeding, not necessarily belonging to humans or doing what humans command them to. These unowned and breed-free dogs are now often known as street or village dogs, or – our preferred term – free-living dogs.
Too often in the West, dogs are seen through the prism of pedigree, and connected to their owner via collars and leashes. All too often, the realities of how dogs and humans live together in the Global South are overlooked. As a country with a significant street-dog population, India is a good place from which to explore how humans and canines share street life in cooperative ways that move beyond images of free-living dogs as dangerous.
Exposing the reality is crucial given rising media calls for culling Indian street dogs, exposing them to rhetorical and actual violence. The condemnation of street dogs as risky and unwelcome is rooted in colonial attitudes, and overlooks complex and varied everyday interactions, often positive, between dogs and humans. Discussing their lived experience will help the dogs themselves, and also help us reflect on how humankind can share the planet with all the other creatures who live on it.
“Not only do they defy the image of the out-of-control and marauding canine stalking the sensationalist articles of 19th-century newspapers in Western Europe and North America, they ask us to question our sanitised cities and stewardship of a world with nature at so much risk.”

Study the highlighted phrases in the sentences below. Which of these conveys a sense of urgency?

Study the unpunctuated sentences in List 1. Their correctly punctuated forms are available in either List 2 or List 3. Match the sentences to their correctly punctuated forms.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Match sentence [1] to its correctly punctuated form. Refer to the table of sentences for the options in full.
You were worried that the chief guest would not be here in time for the inauguration weren’t you Yes thankfully he showed up on time.

Study the unpunctuated sentences in List 1. Their correctly punctuated forms are available in either List 2 or List 3. Match the sentences to their correctly punctuated forms.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Match sentence [1] to its correctly punctuated form. Refer to the table of sentences for the options in full. You ought to have the place of honor Captain I said.

Study the unpunctuated sentences in List 1. Their correctly punctuated forms are available in either List 2 or List 3. Match the sentences to their correctly punctuated forms.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Match sentence [2] to its correctly punctuated form. Refer to the table of sentences for the options in full. Her husband is a very good cook For yesterdays dinner he made bread soup and tater tots.

Study the unpunctuated sentences in List 1. Their correctly punctuated forms are available in either List 2 or List 3. Match the sentences to their correctly punctuated forms.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Match sentence [2] to its correctly punctuated form. Refer to the table of sentences for the options in full. Matthew Cuthbert was ludicrously afraid Matthew however was spared the ordeal of speaking first

Study the unpunctuated sentences in List 1. Their correctly punctuated forms are available in either List 2 or List 3. Match the sentences to their correctly punctuated forms.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Match sentence [3] to its correctly punctuated form. Refer to the table of sentences for the options in full. He said I am going to a football game today

Study the unpunctuated sentences in List 1. Their correctly punctuated forms are available in either List 2 or List 3. Match the sentences to their correctly punctuated forms.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Match sentence [3] to its correctly punctuated form. Refer to the table of sentences for the options in full. In fact he had looked at twenty very much as he looked at sixty lacking a little of the grayness

Study the unpunctuated sentences in List 1. Their correctly punctuated forms are available in either List 2 or List 3. Match the sentences to their correctly punctuated forms.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Match sentence [4] to its correctly punctuated form. Refer to the table of sentences for the options in full. Akhil can you please buy some eggs on your way home I already got the milk the vegetables and the bananas

Study the unpunctuated sentences in List 1. Their correctly punctuated forms are available in either List 2 or List 3. Match the sentences to their correctly punctuated forms.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Match sentence [4] to its correctly punctuated form. Refer to the table of sentences for the options in full. At its conclusion Lieutenant Kyserling took the papers the handkerchief and the photographs and pored over them.

Study the unpunctuated sentences in List 1. Their correctly punctuated forms are available in either List 2 or List 3. Match the sentences to their correctly punctuated forms.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Match sentence [5] to its correctly punctuated form. Refer to the table of sentences for the options in full. Aditi whispered Sharma Uncle whom we just saw downstairs has a daughter who is a lawyer in the US.

Study the unpunctuated sentences in List 1. Their correctly punctuated forms are available in either List 2 or List 3. Match the sentences to their correctly punctuated forms.

Based on the above data, answer the given subquestions.

Match sentence [5] to its correctly punctuated form. Refer to the table of sentences for the options in full. The Tin Woodman knew very well he had no heart and therefore he took great care never to be cruel or unkind to anything

‘The displayed ornaments glittered in the dazzling lights.’ The verb in this sentence is:

He said, "I haven't seen him." Indirect speech of the given sentence is _____.

Choose the correct reported speech ‘Whom did you see?’ Prema asked

This proposal is ___ better than the previous one.

Reduction of a word to one of its parts is called _____.

‘He did not break down when he heard the grave news; rather, he became very stoic and appeared to bear it quite normally.’ The connecting word/phrase is:

Which of the following is an example of middle clipping?

‘He did not break down when he heard the grave news; rather, he became very stoic and appeared to bear it quite normally.’ ‘rather’ means the same as ‘instead’.

Bungalow, loot, and pyjamas are English words from:

The business tycoon who made billions with his hotel chain Resorta, has been found dead. Here, tycoon means

He can speak many languages, ______?

John likes ice cream, _____?

They will get the slots if they pay for them upfront. This is a ___ sentence.

If you bend it too hard, it will break. This is a __ sentence.

Positive: They have visited that museum before. Negative: They _____ visited that museum before.

Positive: She enjoys classical music. Negative: She _____ enjoy classical music.

Find the option that shows the correct passive voice form of the sentence below. They are organizing the annual fundraiser.

Find the option that shows the correct passive voice form of the sentence below. “The teacher teaches the students grammar rules”.

____ books are available in the library.

Nowadays, not ____ football players are concerned with sportsmanship.

Identify the tense and aspect from the following sentence. I have been living here since 2010.

Identify the tense and aspect from the following sentence. They had won the tournament

(i) Traditionally, farmers have used a variety of methods to protect their crops from pests and diseases. With the use of chemicals, crop losses and prices have declined (ii) dramatically.” Of the two words in italics

“New research shows that removing just one protein can leave some fungal toxins high and dry, and that’s potentially good news for food safety.” The word in italics is a comment adverb because

“The cafe was like a battleship stripped for action.” The figure of speech used here is

“The robber was pickpocketed” is an example of ____.

Identify the adjunct in the following sentence. I’ll come after I have had my breakfast.

Identify the adjunct in the following sentence. In the afternoons, we have a tea break.

While the police were searching the neighborhood, he was inside the house, which was close to the shopping center. Here the subordinate clause is

While the police were searching the neighborhood, he was inside the house, which was close to the shopping center. Here the subordinate clause is

Choose the correct modal verb to fill in the blank. See the hint or context provided and choose only the most appropriate option to fill the blank. All books and personal belongings _____ be shown to the staff at the library exits whenever required to do so. Hint: Non-personal obligation in the form of a rule

Choose the correct modal verb to fill in the blank. See the hint or context provided and choose only the most appropriate option to fill the blank.
He was blacklisted and _____ find steady work for some time. Context: To denote a real situation of inability in past time

The team members were tested positive. ___, the match was called off.

He could have played for his home country, ___ he chose to play for his neighbours.

“They want to see what all the fuss is about.” In this sentence, the clause ‘what all the fuss is about’ is the object of the verb ______________.