Reading Comprehension || RC PRACTICE SET - 11 || CAT 2021 || 29 April

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow.

A few days ago, a colleague sent me an article in the British free newspaper Metro about the recent closure of one of London’s oldest pie and mash shops, AJ Goddard in Deptford. According to the article, the owner blamed gentrification (a claim that has been previously made about the closure of pie and mash shops more generally). The influx of newcomers who were vegan, vegetarian, or “into fad diets” was apparently what caused the shop’s closure after 128 years of operation.

My initial reaction was to question this claim. The owner told the Metro that he’d had a few people coming in and asking if they did vegan pies: “It’s like some kind of bad joke – we’re a traditional pie and mash shop, of course, we don’t sell vegan pies.” If this was the case, I thought, why not seek to reflect the desires of local customers and start selling a vegan option? If people were coming in to ask for them, then the demand was certainly there. The owner’s apparent refusal to sell vegan pies was because the shop was a “traditional” one (in other words, one that sells meat pies).

But this claim is problematic: the contents of London pies have changed over the years in response to changes in supply and demand. Pies in the East End were originally associated with eels. The move towards meat (mostly beef) came with the overfishing of eels in the 19th century, though the tradition of eating eels is still present (most shops sell jellied eels and a few also do hot stewed eels). And, the second element of the dish, mash, was only added on a few decades later.

Meanwhile, the media charge that vegetarians and vegans are to blame fits in well with a meat industry that perceives itself as being under siege. Across the world, there have been campaigns to prohibit vegetarian and vegan products from using meat-based labels such as sausage, steak, and burger, and in France, the industry has even asked for government protection from vegans. 

But the closure of this South London shop raises a wider question regarding the relationship between food and identity. People’s food culture tends to reflect their class, gender, national and political identifications and as such are often slow to change. The French gastronome Brillat Savarin famously said, “tell me what you eat and I will tell you who you are”.

Britain has been described as a “nation of pie-lovers” and pie and mash served with liquor (parsley sauce), also known as the Londoners’ meal, has been closely associated with East End “cockney” culture for more than a century. And so, one could read the closure of AJ Goddard, and many other pie and mash shops, as an indication of the decline of cockney culture and identity.

But we could go even further and lament, with Brexit in mind, the decline of traditional English culture and identity; in terms of food culture, this has included the closure of “traditional” pubs, cafes and fish and chip shops. Gentrification and veganism are thus associated with foreigners or out of touch liberal elites who not only do not understand, share or respect local culture and traditions, but actively seek to change them, and authorities who do nothing to protect them. A pie shop’s decision not to reflect the tastes of local customers could in this view be political as well as pragmatic; tied to “traditional” views of food culture.

source: What the closure of a historic pie shop in London says about post-Brexit identity politics

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow.

A few days ago, a colleague sent me an article in the British free newspaper Metro about the recent closure of one of London’s oldest pie and mash shops, AJ Goddard in Deptford. According to the article, the owner blamed gentrification (a claim that has been previously made about the closure of pie and mash shops more generally). The influx of newcomers who were vegan, vegetarian, or “into fad diets” was apparently what caused the shop’s closure after 128 years of operation.

My initial reaction was to question this claim. The owner told the Metro that he’d had a few people coming in and asking if they did vegan pies: “It’s like some kind of bad joke – we’re a traditional pie and mash shop, of course, we don’t sell vegan pies.” If this was the case, I thought, why not seek to reflect the desires of local customers and start selling a vegan option? If people were coming in to ask for them, then the demand was certainly there. The owner’s apparent refusal to sell vegan pies was because the shop was a “traditional” one (in other words, one that sells meat pies).

But this claim is problematic: the contents of London pies have changed over the years in response to changes in supply and demand. Pies in the East End were originally associated with eels. The move towards meat (mostly beef) came with the overfishing of eels in the 19th century, though the tradition of eating eels is still present (most shops sell jellied eels and a few also do hot stewed eels). And, the second element of the dish, mash, was only added on a few decades later.

Meanwhile, the media charge that vegetarians and vegans are to blame fits in well with a meat industry that perceives itself as being under siege. Across the world, there have been campaigns to prohibit vegetarian and vegan products from using meat-based labels such as sausage, steak, and burger, and in France, the industry has even asked for government protection from vegans. 

But the closure of this South London shop raises a wider question regarding the relationship between food and identity. People’s food culture tends to reflect their class, gender, national and political identifications and as such are often slow to change. The French gastronome Brillat Savarin famously said, “tell me what you eat and I will tell you who you are”.

Britain has been described as a “nation of pie-lovers” and pie and mash served with liquor (parsley sauce), also known as the Londoners’ meal, has been closely associated with East End “cockney” culture for more than a century. And so, one could read the closure of AJ Goddard, and many other pie and mash shops, as an indication of the decline of cockney culture and identity.

But we could go even further and lament, with Brexit in mind, the decline of traditional English culture and identity; in terms of food culture, this has included the closure of “traditional” pubs, cafes and fish and chip shops. Gentrification and veganism are thus associated with foreigners or out of touch liberal elites who not only do not understand, share or respect local culture and traditions, but actively seek to change them, and authorities who do nothing to protect them. A pie shop’s decision not to reflect the tastes of local customers could in this view be political as well as pragmatic; tied to “traditional” views of food culture.

source: What the closure of a historic pie shop in London says about post-Brexit identity politics

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow.

A few days ago, a colleague sent me an article in the British free newspaper Metro about the recent closure of one of London’s oldest pie and mash shops, AJ Goddard in Deptford. According to the article, the owner blamed gentrification (a claim that has been previously made about the closure of pie and mash shops more generally). The influx of newcomers who were vegan, vegetarian, or “into fad diets” was apparently what caused the shop’s closure after 128 years of operation.

My initial reaction was to question this claim. The owner told the Metro that he’d had a few people coming in and asking if they did vegan pies: “It’s like some kind of bad joke – we’re a traditional pie and mash shop, of course, we don’t sell vegan pies.” If this was the case, I thought, why not seek to reflect the desires of local customers and start selling a vegan option? If people were coming in to ask for them, then the demand was certainly there. The owner’s apparent refusal to sell vegan pies was because the shop was a “traditional” one (in other words, one that sells meat pies).

But this claim is problematic: the contents of London pies have changed over the years in response to changes in supply and demand. Pies in the East End were originally associated with eels. The move towards meat (mostly beef) came with the overfishing of eels in the 19th century, though the tradition of eating eels is still present (most shops sell jellied eels and a few also do hot stewed eels). And, the second element of the dish, mash, was only added on a few decades later.

Meanwhile, the media charge that vegetarians and vegans are to blame fits in well with a meat industry that perceives itself as being under siege. Across the world, there have been campaigns to prohibit vegetarian and vegan products from using meat-based labels such as sausage, steak, and burger, and in France, the industry has even asked for government protection from vegans. 

But the closure of this South London shop raises a wider question regarding the relationship between food and identity. People’s food culture tends to reflect their class, gender, national and political identifications and as such are often slow to change. The French gastronome Brillat Savarin famously said, “tell me what you eat and I will tell you who you are”.

Britain has been described as a “nation of pie-lovers” and pie and mash served with liquor (parsley sauce), also known as the Londoners’ meal, has been closely associated with East End “cockney” culture for more than a century. And so, one could read the closure of AJ Goddard, and many other pie and mash shops, as an indication of the decline of cockney culture and identity.

But we could go even further and lament, with Brexit in mind, the decline of traditional English culture and identity; in terms of food culture, this has included the closure of “traditional” pubs, cafes and fish and chip shops. Gentrification and veganism are thus associated with foreigners or out of touch liberal elites who not only do not understand, share or respect local culture and traditions, but actively seek to change them, and authorities who do nothing to protect them. A pie shop’s decision not to reflect the tastes of local customers could in this view be political as well as pragmatic; tied to “traditional” views of food culture.

source: What the closure of a historic pie shop in London says about post-Brexit identity politics

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow.

A few days ago, a colleague sent me an article in the British free newspaper Metro about the recent closure of one of London’s oldest pie and mash shops, AJ Goddard in Deptford. According to the article, the owner blamed gentrification (a claim that has been previously made about the closure of pie and mash shops more generally). The influx of newcomers who were vegan, vegetarian, or “into fad diets” was apparently what caused the shop’s closure after 128 years of operation.

My initial reaction was to question this claim. The owner told the Metro that he’d had a few people coming in and asking if they did vegan pies: “It’s like some kind of bad joke – we’re a traditional pie and mash shop, of course, we don’t sell vegan pies.” If this was the case, I thought, why not seek to reflect the desires of local customers and start selling a vegan option? If people were coming in to ask for them, then the demand was certainly there. The owner’s apparent refusal to sell vegan pies was because the shop was a “traditional” one (in other words, one that sells meat pies).

But this claim is problematic: the contents of London pies have changed over the years in response to changes in supply and demand. Pies in the East End were originally associated with eels. The move towards meat (mostly beef) came with the overfishing of eels in the 19th century, though the tradition of eating eels is still present (most shops sell jellied eels and a few also do hot stewed eels). And, the second element of the dish, mash, was only added on a few decades later.

Meanwhile, the media charge that vegetarians and vegans are to blame fits in well with a meat industry that perceives itself as being under siege. Across the world, there have been campaigns to prohibit vegetarian and vegan products from using meat-based labels such as sausage, steak, and burger, and in France, the industry has even asked for government protection from vegans. 

But the closure of this South London shop raises a wider question regarding the relationship between food and identity. People’s food culture tends to reflect their class, gender, national and political identifications and as such are often slow to change. The French gastronome Brillat Savarin famously said, “tell me what you eat and I will tell you who you are”.

Britain has been described as a “nation of pie-lovers” and pie and mash served with liquor (parsley sauce), also known as the Londoners’ meal, has been closely associated with East End “cockney” culture for more than a century. And so, one could read the closure of AJ Goddard, and many other pie and mash shops, as an indication of the decline of cockney culture and identity.

But we could go even further and lament, with Brexit in mind, the decline of traditional English culture and identity; in terms of food culture, this has included the closure of “traditional” pubs, cafes and fish and chip shops. Gentrification and veganism are thus associated with foreigners or out of touch liberal elites who not only do not understand, share or respect local culture and traditions, but actively seek to change them, and authorities who do nothing to protect them. A pie shop’s decision not to reflect the tastes of local customers could in this view be political as well as pragmatic; tied to “traditional” views of food culture.

source: What the closure of a historic pie shop in London says about post-Brexit identity politics

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow.

A few days ago, a colleague sent me an article in the British free newspaper Metro about the recent closure of one of London’s oldest pie and mash shops, AJ Goddard in Deptford. According to the article, the owner blamed gentrification (a claim that has been previously made about the closure of pie and mash shops more generally). The influx of newcomers who were vegan, vegetarian, or “into fad diets” was apparently what caused the shop’s closure after 128 years of operation.

My initial reaction was to question this claim. The owner told the Metro that he’d had a few people coming in and asking if they did vegan pies: “It’s like some kind of bad joke – we’re a traditional pie and mash shop, of course, we don’t sell vegan pies.” If this was the case, I thought, why not seek to reflect the desires of local customers and start selling a vegan option? If people were coming in to ask for them, then the demand was certainly there. The owner’s apparent refusal to sell vegan pies was because the shop was a “traditional” one (in other words, one that sells meat pies).

But this claim is problematic: the contents of London pies have changed over the years in response to changes in supply and demand. Pies in the East End were originally associated with eels. The move towards meat (mostly beef) came with the overfishing of eels in the 19th century, though the tradition of eating eels is still present (most shops sell jellied eels and a few also do hot stewed eels). And, the second element of the dish, mash, was only added on a few decades later.

Meanwhile, the media charge that vegetarians and vegans are to blame fits in well with a meat industry that perceives itself as being under siege. Across the world, there have been campaigns to prohibit vegetarian and vegan products from using meat-based labels such as sausage, steak, and burger, and in France, the industry has even asked for government protection from vegans. 

But the closure of this South London shop raises a wider question regarding the relationship between food and identity. People’s food culture tends to reflect their class, gender, national and political identifications and as such are often slow to change. The French gastronome Brillat Savarin famously said, “tell me what you eat and I will tell you who you are”.

Britain has been described as a “nation of pie-lovers” and pie and mash served with liquor (parsley sauce), also known as the Londoners’ meal, has been closely associated with East End “cockney” culture for more than a century. And so, one could read the closure of AJ Goddard, and many other pie and mash shops, as an indication of the decline of cockney culture and identity.

But we could go even further and lament, with Brexit in mind, the decline of traditional English culture and identity; in terms of food culture, this has included the closure of “traditional” pubs, cafes and fish and chip shops. Gentrification and veganism are thus associated with foreigners or out of touch liberal elites who not only do not understand, share or respect local culture and traditions, but actively seek to change them, and authorities who do nothing to protect them. A pie shop’s decision not to reflect the tastes of local customers could in this view be political as well as pragmatic; tied to “traditional” views of food culture.

source: What the closure of a historic pie shop in London says about post-Brexit identity politics

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of these.

The new National Education Policy (NEP 2020) is the third overhaul of India’s education system in the life of the Republic. Unfortunately, notwithstanding various policy measures, what we have is a shambles of an education system: one where students achieve perfect scores in history and literature at school, but PhD theses are, in a great many instances, embarrassing documents attached to unemployable graduates. Let us look at the substantive issues of NEP.

The language conundrum is one. There is great merit in valuing Indian languages, including Sanskrit. However, the Indian state spends pitiful amounts on education and it is unclear how the devaluation of Indian languages as a result of national and global forces can be addressed by devoting resources to bolster the performance of politics. Given the country’s socioeconomic disparities, it is not difficult to imagine whose children are most likely to be the subjects of such arbitrary experiments in instilling “civilisational" pride.

The mostly anti-learning board examination system—and the coaching culture around it—is sought to be tackled through continuous evaluations involving “state school examinations in grades 3, 5, and 8". In a wildly uneven system such as ours, the immediate need is to attend to the basics of teaching methods, inflationary grading, school infrastructure and outdated curricula. There is little value in evaluating continuous failure.

Barring a handful of professional institutions, our higher education system neither produces employable graduates nor capable researchers. This is the outcome of a lack of proper training of both teachers and students, the neglect of regional universities, and an exaggerated deference towards teachers that inhibits the development of a critical attitude.

The structural problems faced by the university system are extremely unlikely to be solved by the establishment of a centralized administrative body, the noble but utopian goal of erasing distinctions between arts and science education, multiple exit options at the undergraduate level, creation of large multidisciplinary institutions, and allowing foreign universities to set up local campuses. The problem isn’t with the form of the university system—and it is entirely unhelpful to hold up Ivy League colleges of the US as models to emulate—but, rather, the content.

There have been two kinds of prominent responses to NEP 2020. The first suggests that it is another tool to dislodge an older “Nehruvian" intelligentsia through the emphases on Indian languages and Sanskrit. The second is adamant that the crisis of education can best be addressed by greater privatization of education, with the state funding (poor) parents to send their children to private schools of their choice.

If the NEP were as systematic a document as to change the fundamentals of India’s social structure, it would be remarkable indeed. It might even have been an object of admiration if it had discovered an easy way of _____(A)_____ in social and economic change. Unfortunately, this is a chimera. Our most likely future is the continuing decline of an educational system that requires transformations in content and not form.

Source: https://www.livemint.com/opinion/online-views/our-national-education-policy-is-high-on-goals-but-low-on-realism-11596982878601.html

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of these.

The new National Education Policy (NEP 2020) is the third overhaul of India’s education system in the life of the Republic. Unfortunately, notwithstanding various policy measures, what we have is a shambles of an education system: one where students achieve perfect scores in history and literature at school, but PhD theses are, in a great many instances, embarrassing documents attached to unemployable graduates. Let us look at the substantive issues of NEP.

The language conundrum is one. There is great merit in valuing Indian languages, including Sanskrit. However, the Indian state spends pitiful amounts on education and it is unclear how the devaluation of Indian languages as a result of national and global forces can be addressed by devoting resources to bolster the performance of politics. Given the country’s socioeconomic disparities, it is not difficult to imagine whose children are most likely to be the subjects of such arbitrary experiments in instilling “civilisational" pride.

The mostly anti-learning board examination system—and the coaching culture around it—is sought to be tackled through continuous evaluations involving “state school examinations in grades 3, 5, and 8". In a wildly uneven system such as ours, the immediate need is to attend to the basics of teaching methods, inflationary grading, school infrastructure and outdated curricula. There is little value in evaluating continuous failure.

Barring a handful of professional institutions, our higher education system neither produces employable graduates nor capable researchers. This is the outcome of a lack of proper training of both teachers and students, the neglect of regional universities, and an exaggerated deference towards teachers that inhibits the development of a critical attitude.

The structural problems faced by the university system are extremely unlikely to be solved by the establishment of a centralized administrative body, the noble but utopian goal of erasing distinctions between arts and science education, multiple exit options at the undergraduate level, creation of large multidisciplinary institutions, and allowing foreign universities to set up local campuses. The problem isn’t with the form of the university system—and it is entirely unhelpful to hold up Ivy League colleges of the US as models to emulate—but, rather, the content.

There have been two kinds of prominent responses to NEP 2020. The first suggests that it is another tool to dislodge an older “Nehruvian" intelligentsia through the emphases on Indian languages and Sanskrit. The second is adamant that the crisis of education can best be addressed by greater privatization of education, with the state funding (poor) parents to send their children to private schools of their choice.

If the NEP were as systematic a document as to change the fundamentals of India’s social structure, it would be remarkable indeed. It might even have been an object of admiration if it had discovered an easy way of _____(A)_____ in social and economic change. Unfortunately, this is a chimera. Our most likely future is the continuing decline of an educational system that requires transformations in content and not form.

Source: https://www.livemint.com/opinion/online-views/our-national-education-policy-is-high-on-goals-but-low-on-realism-11596982878601.html

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of these.

The new National Education Policy (NEP 2020) is the third overhaul of India’s education system in the life of the Republic. Unfortunately, notwithstanding various policy measures, what we have is a shambles of an education system: one where students achieve perfect scores in history and literature at school, but PhD theses are, in a great many instances, embarrassing documents attached to unemployable graduates. Let us look at the substantive issues of NEP.

The language conundrum is one. There is great merit in valuing Indian languages, including Sanskrit. However, the Indian state spends pitiful amounts on education and it is unclear how the devaluation of Indian languages as a result of national and global forces can be addressed by devoting resources to bolster the performance of politics. Given the country’s socioeconomic disparities, it is not difficult to imagine whose children are most likely to be the subjects of such arbitrary experiments in instilling “civilisational" pride.

The mostly anti-learning board examination system—and the coaching culture around it—is sought to be tackled through continuous evaluations involving “state school examinations in grades 3, 5, and 8". In a wildly uneven system such as ours, the immediate need is to attend to the basics of teaching methods, inflationary grading, school infrastructure and outdated curricula. There is little value in evaluating continuous failure.

Barring a handful of professional institutions, our higher education system neither produces employable graduates nor capable researchers. This is the outcome of a lack of proper training of both teachers and students, the neglect of regional universities, and an exaggerated deference towards teachers that inhibits the development of a critical attitude.

The structural problems faced by the university system are extremely unlikely to be solved by the establishment of a centralized administrative body, the noble but utopian goal of erasing distinctions between arts and science education, multiple exit options at the undergraduate level, creation of large multidisciplinary institutions, and allowing foreign universities to set up local campuses. The problem isn’t with the form of the university system—and it is entirely unhelpful to hold up Ivy League colleges of the US as models to emulate—but, rather, the content.

There have been two kinds of prominent responses to NEP 2020. The first suggests that it is another tool to dislodge an older “Nehruvian" intelligentsia through the emphases on Indian languages and Sanskrit. The second is adamant that the crisis of education can best be addressed by greater privatization of education, with the state funding (poor) parents to send their children to private schools of their choice.

If the NEP were as systematic a document as to change the fundamentals of India’s social structure, it would be remarkable indeed. It might even have been an object of admiration if it had discovered an easy way of _____(A)_____ in social and economic change. Unfortunately, this is a chimera. Our most likely future is the continuing decline of an educational system that requires transformations in content and not form.

Source: https://www.livemint.com/opinion/online-views/our-national-education-policy-is-high-on-goals-but-low-on-realism-11596982878601.html

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of these.
The new National Education Policy (NEP 2020) is the third overhaul of India’s education system in the life of the Republic. Unfortunately, notwithstanding various policy measures, what we have is a shambles of an education system: one where students achieve perfect scores in history and literature at school, but PhD theses are, in a great many instances, embarrassing documents attached to unemployable graduates. Let us look at the substantive issues of NEP.

The language conundrum is one. There is great merit in valuing Indian languages, including Sanskrit. However, the Indian state spends pitiful amounts on education and it is unclear how the devaluation of Indian languages as a result of national and global forces can be addressed by devoting resources to bolster the performance of politics. Given the country’s socioeconomic disparities, it is not difficult to imagine whose children are most likely to be the subjects of such arbitrary experiments in instilling “civilisational" pride.

The mostly anti-learning board examination system—and the coaching culture around it—is sought to be tackled through continuous evaluations involving “state school examinations in grades 3, 5, and 8". In a wildly uneven system such as ours, the immediate need is to attend to the basics of teaching methods, inflationary grading, school infrastructure and outdated curricula. There is little value in evaluating continuous failure.

Barring a handful of professional institutions, our higher education system neither produces employable graduates nor capable researchers. This is the outcome of a lack of proper training of both teachers and students, the neglect of regional universities, and an exaggerated deference towards teachers that inhibits the development of a critical attitude.

The structural problems faced by the university system are extremely unlikely to be solved by the establishment of a centralized administrative body, the noble but utopian goal of erasing distinctions between arts and science education, multiple exit options at the undergraduate level, creation of large multidisciplinary institutions, and allowing foreign universities to set up local campuses. The problem isn’t with the form of the university system—and it is entirely unhelpful to hold up Ivy League colleges of the US as models to emulate—but, rather, the content.

There have been two kinds of prominent responses to NEP 2020. The first suggests that it is another tool to dislodge an older “Nehruvian" intelligentsia through the emphases on Indian languages and Sanskrit. The second is adamant that the crisis of education can best be addressed by greater privatization of education, with the state funding (poor) parents to send their children to private schools of their choice.

If the NEP were as systematic a document as to change the fundamentals of India’s social structure, it would be remarkable indeed. It might even have been an object of admiration if it had discovered an easy way of _____(A)_____ in social and economic change. Unfortunately, this is a chimera. Our most likely future is the continuing decline of an educational system that requires transformations in content and not form.

Source: https://www.livemint.com/opinion/online-views/our-national-education-policy-is-high-on-goals-but-low-on-realism-11596982878601.html

Direction: Read the given passage carefully and answer the questions that follow. Certain words are printed in bold to help you locate them while answering some of these.
The new National Education Policy (NEP 2020) is the third overhaul of India’s education system in the life of the Republic. Unfortunately, notwithstanding various policy measures, what we have is a shambles of an education system: one where students achieve perfect scores in history and literature at school, but PhD theses are, in a great many instances, embarrassing documents attached to unemployable graduates. Let us look at the substantive issues of NEP.

The language conundrum is one. There is great merit in valuing Indian languages, including Sanskrit. However, the Indian state spends pitiful amounts on education and it is unclear how the devaluation of Indian languages as a result of national and global forces can be addressed by devoting resources to bolster the performance of politics. Given the country’s socioeconomic disparities, it is not difficult to imagine whose children are most likely to be the subjects of such arbitrary experiments in instilling “civilisational" pride.

The mostly anti-learning board examination system—and the coaching culture around it—is sought to be tackled through continuous evaluations involving “state school examinations in grades 3, 5, and 8". In a wildly uneven system such as ours, the immediate need is to attend to the basics of teaching methods, inflationary grading, school infrastructure and outdated curricula. There is little value in evaluating continuous failure.

Barring a handful of professional institutions, our higher education system neither produces employable graduates nor capable researchers. This is the outcome of a lack of proper training of both teachers and students, the neglect of regional universities, and an exaggerated deference towards teachers that inhibits the development of a critical attitude.

The structural problems faced by the university system are extremely unlikely to be solved by the establishment of a centralized administrative body, the noble but utopian goal of erasing distinctions between arts and science education, multiple exit options at the undergraduate level, creation of large multidisciplinary institutions, and allowing foreign universities to set up local campuses. The problem isn’t with the form of the university system—and it is entirely unhelpful to hold up Ivy League colleges of the US as models to emulate—but, rather, the content.

There have been two kinds of prominent responses to NEP 2020. The first suggests that it is another tool to dislodge an older “Nehruvian" intelligentsia through the emphases on Indian languages and Sanskrit. The second is adamant that the crisis of education can best be addressed by greater privatization of education, with the state funding (poor) parents to send their children to private schools of their choice.

If the NEP were as systematic a document as to change the fundamentals of India’s social structure, it would be remarkable indeed. It might even have been an object of admiration if it had discovered an easy way of _____(A)_____ in social and economic change. Unfortunately, this is a chimera. Our most likely future is the continuing decline of an educational system that requires transformations in content and not form.

Source: https://www.livemint.com/opinion/online-views/our-national-education-policy-is-high-on-goals-but-low-on-realism-11596982878601.html