Model Question Set : Compulsory English I : Level: BA Year: First

 Model Question Set   Compulsory English I  BA   First Year

Tribhuvan University

Model Question Set

Compulsory English I

Level: BA

Year: First

Subject: Compulsory English –Paper I                                                 Full Marks: 70

Course Title: Reading and Writing in English                                   Pass marks: 28

Course Code: ENGL 401                                                                          Time: 3 Hours

 

Candidates are required to give their answers in their own words as far as practicable. The figures in the margin indicate full marks.

Section A: Long Question 02x15=30

Answer any TWO questions, but no. 2 is compulsory.

1. Write an essay in which you describe a food that is as meaningful for you as pulao is for Lahiri. Make sure that your essay has a clear thesis and that it includes at least one reference to Jhumpa Lahiri‘s essay. Be sure that you document all the materials that you borrow from Lahiri‘s essay.

2. Apply four levels of reading to Anton Chekhov‘s story ―The Student - given below.

At first, the weather was fine and still. The thrushes were calling, and in the swamps close by something alive droned pitifully with a sound like blowing into an empty bottle. A snipe flew by, and the shot aimed at it rang out with a gay, resounding note in the spring air. But when it began to get dark in the forest a cold, penetrating wind blew inappropriately from the east, and everything sank into silence. Needles of ice stretched across the pools, and it felt cheerless, remote, and lonely in the forest. There was a whiff of winter.

Ivan Velikopolsky, the son of a sacristan, and a clerical academy student returning home from shooting, kept walking on the path by the water-logged meadows. His fingers were numb and his face was burning with the wind. It seemed to him that the cold that had suddenly come on had destroyed the order and harmony of things, that nature itself felt ill at ease, and that was why the evening darkness was falling more rapidly than usual. All around it was deserted and peculiarly gloomy. The only light was one gleaming in the widows‘ gardens near the river; the village, over three miles away, and everything in the distance all round was plunged in the cold evening mist. The student remembered that, as he had left the house, his mother was sitting barefoot on the floor in the entryway, cleaning the samovar, while his father lay on the stove coughing; as it was Good Friday nothing had been cooked, and the student was terribly hungry. And now, shrinking from the cold, he thought that just such a wind had blown in the days of Rurik and in the of Ivan the Terrible and Peter, and in their time there had been just the same desperate poverty and hunger, the same thatched roofs with holes in them, ignorance, misery, the same desolation around, the same darkness, the same feeling of oppression—all these had existed, did exist, and would exist, and the lapse of a thousand years would make life no better. And he did not want to go home.

The gardens were called the widows‘ because they were kept by two widows, mother and daughter. A campfire was burning brightly with a crackling sound, throwing out light far around on the ploughed earth. The widow Vasilisa, a tall, fat old woman in a man‘s coat, was standing by and looking thoughtfully into the fire; her daughter Lukerya, a little pockmarked woman with a stupid-looking face, was sitting on the ground, washing a cauldron and spoons. Apparently they had just had supper. There was a sound of men‘s voices; it was the laborers watering their horses at the river.

―Here you have winter back again,‖ said the student, going up to the campfire. ―Good evening.‖ Vasilisa started, but at once recognized him and smiled cordially.

 ―I did not know you; God bless you, she said.―You‘ll be rich.‖ They talked. Vasilisa, a woman of experience who had been in service with the gentry, first as a wet nurse, afterwards as a children‘s nurse expressed herself with refinement, and a soft, sedate smile never left her face; her daughter Lukerya, a village peasant woman who her husband had beaten, screwed up her eyes at the student and said nothing, and she had a strange expression like that of a deaf-mute.

―At just such a fire the Apostle Peter warmed himself,‖ said the student, stretching out his hands to the fire, ―so it must have been cold then, too. Ah, what a terrible night it must have been, granny! An utterly dismal long night!‖ He looked round at the darkness, shook his head abruptly and asked:

―No doubt you have heard the reading of the Twelve Apostles?‖

―Yes, I have,‖ answered Vasilisa.

―If you remember, at the Last Supper Peter said to Jesus, ‗I am ready to go with Thee into darkness and unto death.‘ And our Lord answered him thus: ‗I say unto thee, Peter, before the cock croweth thou wilt have denied Me thrice.‘ After the supper Jesus went through the agony of death in the garden and prayed, and poor Peter was weary in spirit and faint, his eyelids were heavy and he could not struggle against sleep. He fell asleep. Then you heard how Judas the same night kissed Jesus and betrayed Him to His tormentors. They took Him bound to the high priest and beat Him, while Peter, exhausted, worn out with misery and alarm, hardly awake, you know, feeling that something awful was just going to happen on earth, followed behind. He loved Jesus passionately, intensely, and now he saw from far off how He was beaten. ―

Lukerya left the spoons and fixed an immovable stare upon the student.

―They came to the high priest‘s,‖ he went on; ―they began to question Jesus, and meantime the laborers made a fire in the yard as it was cold, and warmed themselves. Peter, too, stood with them near the fire and warmed himself as I am doing. A woman, seeing him, said: ‗He was with Jesus, too‘—that is as much as to say that he, too, should be taken to be questioned. And all the laborers that were standing near the fire must have looked sourly and suspiciously at him, because he was confused and said: ‗I don‘t know Him.‘ A little while after again someone recognized him as one of Jesus‘ disciples and said: ‗Thou, too, art one of them,‘ but again he denied it. And for the third time someone turned to him: ‗Why, did I not see thee with Him in the garden today?‘ For the third time he denied it. And immediately after that time the cock crowed, and Peter, looking from afar off at Jesus, remembered the words He had said to him in the evening He remembered, he came to himself, went out of the yard and wept bitterly—bitterly. In the Gospel it is written: ‗He went out and wept bitterly.‘ I imagine it: the still, still, dark, dark garden, and in the stillness, faintly audible, smothered sobbing ‖

 

The student sighed and sank into thought. Still smiling, Vasilisa suddenly gave a gulp, big tears flowed freely down her cheeks, and she screened her face from the fire with her sleeve as though ashamed of her tears, and Lukerya, staring immovably at the student, flushed crimson, and her expression became strained and heavy like that of someone enduring intense pain.

The laborers came back from the river, and one of them riding a horse was quite near, and the light from the fire quivered upon him. The student said good-night to the widows and went on. And again the darkness was about him and his fingers began to be numb. A cruel wind was blowing, winter really had come back and it did not feel as though Easter would be the day after tomorrow.

Now the student was thinking about Vasilisa: since she had shed tears all that had happened to Peter the night before the Crucifixion must have some relation to her. . . .

He looked round. The solitary light was still gleaming in the darkness and no figures could be seen near it now. The student thought again that if Vasilisa had shed tears, and her daughter had been troubled, it was evident that what he had just been telling them about, which had happened nineteen centuries ago, had a relation to the present—to both women, to the desolate village, to himself, to all people. The old woman had wept, not because he could tell the story touchingly, but because Peter was near to her, because her whole being was interested in what was passing in Peter‘s soul.

And joy suddenly stirred in his soul, and he even stopped for a minute to take breath. ―The past,‖ he thought, ―is linked with the present by an unbroken chain of events flowing one out of another.‖ And it seemed to him that he had just seen both ends of that chain; that when he touched one end the other quivered.

When he crossed the river by the ferryboat and afterwards, mounting the hill, looked at his village and towards the west where the cold crimson sunset lay a narrow streak of light, he thought that truth and beauty which had guided human life there in the garden and in the yard of the high priest had continued without interruption to this day, and had evidently always been the chief thing in human life and in all earthly life, indeed; and the feeling of youth, health, vigor—he was only twenty-two— and the inexpressible sweet expectation of happiness, of unknown mysterious happiness, took possession of him little by little, and life seemed to him enchanting, marvelous, and full of lofty meaning.

 

3. Discuss, with at least three suitable examples for each, how a student-writer can edit a draft for the following:

a. Awkward phrasing

b. Concise sentences

c. Varied sentences

d. Word choice

 

Section B: Short Question

Answer any FOUR questions, but no. 5 is compulsory. 04x10=40

4. Make notes of the following passage by using headings and sub-headings:

 

The prejudice against Nnaemeka‘s marriage was not confined to his little village. In Lagos, especially among his people who worked there, it showed itself in a different way. Their women, when they met at their village meeting, were not hostile to Nene. Rather, they paid her such excessive deference as to make her feel she was not one of them. But as time went on, Nene gradually broke through some of this prejudice and even began to make friends among them. Slowly and grudgingly they began to admit that she kept her home much better than most of them.

The story eventually got to the little village in the heart of the Ibo country that Nnaemeka and his young wife were a most happy couple. But his father was one of the few people in the village who knew nothing about this. He always displayed so much temper whenever his son‘s name was mentioned that everyone avoided it in his presence. By a tremendous effort of will he had succeeded in pushing his son to the back of his mind. The strain had nearly killed him but he had persevered, and won.

Then one day he received a letter from Nene, and in spite of himself he began to glance through it perfunctorily until all of a sudden the expression on his face changed and he began to read more carefully.

Our two sons, from the day they learnt that they have a grandfather, have insisted on being taken to him. I find it impossible to tell them that you will not see them. I implore you to allow Nnaemeka to bring them home for a short time during his leave next month. I shall remain here in Lagos . . .

The old man at once felt the resolution he had built up over so many years falling in. He was telling himself that he must not give in. He tried to steal his heart against all emotional appeals. It was a reenactment of that other struggle. He leaned against a window and looked out. The sky was overcast with heavy black clouds and a high wind began to blow, filling the air with dust and dry leaves. It was one of those rare occasions when even Nature takes a hand in a human fight. Very soon it began to rain, the first rain in the year. It came down in large sharp drops and was accompanied by the lightning and thunder which mark a change of season. Okeke was trying hard not to think of his two grandsons. But he knew he was now fighting a losing battle. He tried to hum a favorite hymn but the pattering of large raindrops on the roof broke up the tune. His mind immediately returned to the children. How could he shut his door against them? By a curious mental process he imagined them standing, sad and forsaken, under the harsh angry weather—shut out from his house.

That night he hardly slept, from remorse—and a vague fear that he might die without making it up to them.

 

5. Read the following passage and answer the questions given under it:

 

Sunlight flooded the cabin as the plane changed course. It was a bright, clear morning. Robyn looked out of the window as England slid slowly by beneath them: cities and towns, their street plans like printed circuits, scattered over a mosaic of tiny fields, connected by the thin wires of railways and motorways. Hard to imagine at this height all the noise and commotion going on down there. Factories, shops, offices, schools, beginning the working day. People crammed into rush hour buses and trains, or sitting at the wheels of their cars in the traffic jams, or washing up breakfast things in the kitchens of pebble-dashed semis. All inhabiting their own little worlds, oblivious of how they fitted into the total picture. The housewife, switching on her electric kettle to make another cup of tea, gave no thought to the immense complex of operations that made that simple action possible: the building and maintenance of the power station that produced the electricity, the mining of coal or pumping of oil to fuel the generators, the laying of miles of cable to carry the current to her house, the digging and smelting and milling of ore or bauxite into sheets of steel or aluminum, the cutting and pressing and welding of the metal into the kettle's shell, spout and handle, the assembling of these parts with scores of other components—coils, screws, nuts, bolts, washers, rivets, wires, springs, rubber insulation, plastic trimmings; then the packaging of the kettle, the advertising of the kettle, the marketing of the kettle to wholesale and retail outlets, the transportation of the kettle to warehouses and shops, the calculation of its price, and the distribution of its added value between all the myriad people and agencies concerned in its production. The housewife gave no thought to all this as she switched on her kettle. Neither had Robyn until this moment, and it would never have occurred to her to do so before she met Vic Wilcox.

 

a. Where does Robyn describe the scenic beauty of the landscape from?

b. How does the passage define and illustrate the primary sector of economy?

c. How does the passage explain the secondary sector of economy?

d. How does the passage describe the tertiary sector of economy?

e. What could be the next paragraph about?

 

6. Answer the following questions briefly and to the point:

a. What does Cox mean when he says that the end of air-conditioning will bring paperweights back to American offices? (02 marks)

b. What preconceptions about Chinese mothers does Chua think Westerners have? Do you think she is right about this? (04 marks)

c. Smith-Yackel could have outlined her mother`s life without framing it with the telephone conversation. Why do you think she includes this frame? (04 marks)

 

7. Is the essay ―Why Chinese Mothers are Superior‖ a point-by-point comparison, a subject-by-subject comparison, or a combination of the two organizational strategies? Why does Amy Chua arrange her comparison the way she does?

 

8. Give the meanings of any FIVE of the following words and then use each of them in sentences of your own (in the same sense of meaning you have given): lurid, tangible, connotation, niche, suffice, connoting, gusto

 

 

Second Term Exam: Compulsory English BA First Year

 

Baneshwor Multiple Campus

Shantinagar, Kathmandu

Second Term Exam 2080

Year: First                                                                                                        Full marks: 35   

Subject: Compulsory English                                                                            Pass marks: 14

                                                                                                                          Time: 1.5 hours

           

 

Candidates are required to answer the questions in their own words as far as practicable. The figures in the margin indicate full marks.

Section “A”: (Long Answer Questions)                                                     15

Answer any ONE question.

1. Write a descriptive essay on any place you have visited recently.

2. Apply four levels of interacting with a text to Parashu Pradhan’s story The Telegram on the Table.

Once more he read the telegram that lay on the table. Or rather his eyes went along its lines once again. He suddenly felt happy, although he knew that he was very tired. All day he had been out relating the entire history of the country to tourists and answering their multifarious questions. Now it seemed that some life had returned to his flagging ambitions. He smiled. A tragedy like this should have made him weep. But none of it touched him at all. It felt as ordinary as his everyday life: getting up at dawn, hurriedly rinsing out his mouth, pulling on jacket and trousers, tying a knot in his tie, then smiling at strange faces as if he knew them well.

A few days before he had met a friend; one of his best friends from his village, who had also come to the city and become trapped in some menial job. This friend knew about the tragic event and had uttered words of sympathy: "I am very sorry, Krishna. You have my heartfelt sympathy."

But this sympathy had not touched him at all. It had seemed meant for someone else. To observe convention, he had smiled nonetheless and simply said, "Thank you."

That telegram had been lying there for weeks. He always came home from the hotel in the middle of the night, and he was always tired like this. He had been caught by a pair of blue eyes or immersed in Western music. His eyes always shone when he looked at the telegram. Perhaps he had needed to receive it before he could really achieve what he aimed for. Now that he had received it, perhaps he was happy. Very, very happy indeed.

He had always tried to speak English since he was a child. He had dreamed in English and considered English his all. It had brought him a new wave of happiness. Now he explained the culture and customs in his own way: how the kumari was chosen, how the kumari was worshipped, what the horse festival was like. He thought of the foreigners staring straight at him and of Judiths and Jennies amazed by his words. His life was most enjoyable. Often he dreamed of New York skyscrapers and awoke from his dreams amazed by the Goddess of Liberty there. Or else he would imagine lying beside the ocean, playing a tape of Nepali folk songs. Sometimes he dreamed sentimentally; then he became practical again. For it was quite certain that one day Krishna would follow a tourist girl far across the skies. Unfamiliar voices were calling him from distant lands. "Come to us just once," they seemed to be saying. "We will be your guides. We will welcome you. We love you."

But then there was that telegram, which he would rather not have received. It took him back to earlier times and forced him to think about things he would prefer not to consider. The person it concerned had never meant much to him. He had never felt the need to pay much attention to her. He still lived in the city, just as he had ten years before, trying to make his seedling dreams grow. The telegram should have made him weep, but it didn't. He should have felt regret, but he didn't. He should have fasted for a while, but he didn't. That telegram should have affected him; it should have elicited some response. But the wires inside Krishna were strange. No current ran along them. Nothing ever touched him. No grief could shake his heart.

He put it out of his mind and tried to sleep. He turned the radio on low and switched off the light, but sleep would not come. All that afternoon's tourists came before him, asking, "How old is this piece of art?" "What's the importance of this?" "Is woodcarving a new tradition?" And so on and so on. He forgot them and thought about his lodgings. He paid a high rent, but there were few amenities. If he got up too late, there was no water. If he kept his light on for too long, everyone complained. All sorts of houses had been built on the empty fields in front. The open sky was a long way off. He thought he would like to move somewhere else. Then he could invite that Miss Pandey from the travel service home for dinner. But the room he rented was bad, and soon even that mundane wish dwindled away.

Then he thought of the distant hills of his home. He had not visited for many years. It would be good to go home every Dashain, he thought, to join in the dancing and dispel the emptiness of the city. He would gladly swap places with someone there, even if it were only for a few days. Or he could brag to the idle young folk. "If you've no work, come with me," he could say. "I'll fix you up with a job." But as he thought of the hill country, that woman came into his mind again the woman he did not want to define. He did not want to accept her or identify her. But a telegram had come, and there it was written, "Your wife died yesterday." There could be no doubt about what it told him. Your wife died yesterday, it said; your wife died yesterday.

It would not allow him to sleep. He pressed a switch, and the room lit up. He went to the table and read it again, forcing himself to concentrate. Your wife died yesterday, it said. Your wife died; your wife died. For weeks he had slept there within sight of that message, but tonight for some reason his mind was filled with desired and unwanted connections, thoughts of the present and the past, all of them in discord. Why couldn't he sleep tonight? Why couldn't he make sense of it and weep? Having lived alone for so long in the city, had he become like a stone? Was he incapable of thought? Suddenly angry with himself, he tore it to shreds and burst into tears. He cried and cried, he knew not how long.

 

Section “B”: (Short Answer Questions)                                                     2x10=20

Answer any TWO questions.

 

3. Read the following passage and answer the questions given below.

Communication is part of our everyday life. We greet one another, smile or frown, depending on our moods. Animals, too, communicate in the same way, much to our surprise. Just like us, interaction among animals can be both verbal and non-verbal.

Signing is one way in which animals can interact with one another. Male black-birds use their melodious songs to catch the attention of the females. These songs are usually rich in notes variation, encoding various kinds of messages. Songs are also used to warn and keep off other blackbirds from their territory, usually a place where they dwell and reproduce.

Large mammals in ocean sing, too, according to adventurous sailors. Enormous whales groan and grunt while smaller dolphins and porpoises produce pings, whistles and clicks. These sounds are surprisingly received by other mates as far as several hundred kilometers away.

Besides singing, body language also forms a large part of animals’ communication tactics. Dominant hyenas exhibit their power by raising the fur hackles on their necks and shoulders, while the submissive ones normally surrender to the powerful parties by crouching their heads low and curling their lips a little, revealing their teeth in friendly smiles.

Colours, which are most conspicuously found on animals, are also important means of interaction among animals. Male birds of paradise, which have the gaudiest coloured feathers often hang themselves upside down from branches, among fluffing plumes displaying proudly their feathers, attracting the opposite sex.

The alternating black and white striped coats of zebras have their roles to play too. Each zebra is born with a unique set of stripes which enables its mates to recognize them. When grazing safely, their stripes are all lined up neatly, so that none of them loses track of their friends. However, when danger such as hungry lion approaches, the zebras would dart out in various directions, making it difficult for the lion to choose his target.

Insects, such as the wasps, armed with poisonous bites or strings, normally have brightly painted bodies to remind other predators of their power. Hoverflies and harmless insects also make use of this fact and colour bodies brightly in an attempt to fool their predators into thinking that they are as dangerous and harmful as the wasps.

a.        How is singing used by animals?

2. How long can a whale’s grunt be heard in the ocean?
3. How do zebras react to the danger of an attacking lion?
4. How do dominant hyenas exhibit their power?
5. Which animals/birds have been mentioned in the above passage having gaudy colours?

 

4. Answer the following questions briefly and to the point. 2+4+4=10

a. What does Cox mean when he says that the end of air-conditioning will bring paperweights back

to American offices? (02 marks)

            b. Is Graham’s focus on finding causes, describing effects, or both? Explain. (The Black Table is still There)

            c. Is the essay “The Hidden Life of Garbage” a subjective or objective description of the landfill? (04 marks)

5. Make notes of the following passage by using headings and sub-headings.

We often come across situations and incidents, which appear quite contradictory to the known laws of Nature, creating doubts about the impartiality of divine justice. For instance, an honest, duty-conscious, morally elevated person is often seen caught in adversities in one form or the other, or is suddenly struck with a great misfortune in life as though he/she were being punished by God for a great sin. On the other hand, we find persons engaged in worst types of corrupt practices living in peace and prosperity. An idler wins a jackpot or inherits a fortune from unexpected quarters, whereas a hard working intelligent person is found suffering endlessly for want of basic necessities. One person achieves great success with little effort, whereas another does not succeed in spite of his best efforts. Such phenomena are popularly ascribed to the role of fate.

Unprecedented natural calamities like famine, epidemics, tornadoes and floods, damage by lightning and earthquakes and untimely death are also commonly attributed to the will of God and called predestined. Such unexpected happenings as financial loss, accidents, sudden mental/ physical disability and physical separation from a dear one are also attributed to fate.

Such unexpected adversities are rare, but they do occur in life. At times, they leave such deep imprints on the psyche, that it is not possible to ignore them. Those who are not familiar with the mysteries of divine justice become very much perplexed by such experiences and form prejudiced opinions, which, in some form or the other, hinder their mental and spiritual progress. Many become resentful towards God, blame and abuse Him for favouritism and injustice. A few even become atheists, considering the futility of worshipping God who does not respond to prayer in distress, despite their prolonged adherence to religiosity. Then there is a class of devotees who serve the saints and worship deities in expectation of some material gains. However, if they are visited with some failure, unfavourable circumstances, or mishap coincidentally, their adoration changes to contempt of disbelief.

There are quite a few believers in this world who correlate people, places and things with good and bad luck. Such superstitions have caused extreme miseries to innocent persons. The root cause for such irrational behaviour is the belief that whatever come to pass is predestined by God and the beings created by Him have absolutely no role in shaping their own destiny. Quite a few persons in this world forsake their responsibility in the mistaken belief that the gain and loss being predestined, there is no necessity of personal effort.