This is the Vocab24 daily quiz of 10 April 2026, the same 26 questions the app served that day, on the day's vocabulary and editorial. One mark for a right answer, minus 0.25 for a wrong one; the explanation opens as soon as you tap.
Out of the given alternatives select the alternative which best expresses the meaning of given word.
Anticipate
Out of the given alternatives select the alternative which best expresses the meaning of given word.
Accommodate
Out of the given alternatives select the alternative which best expresses the meaning of given word.
Accelerate
Out of the given alternatives select the alternative which best expresses the meaning of given word.
Persuade
Out of the given alternatives select the word opposite in meaning to the given word.
Incorporate
Out of the given alternatives select the word opposite in meaning to the given word.
Negotiate
Out of the given alternatives select the word opposite in meaning to the given word.
Instinctive
Out of the given alternatives select the word opposite in meaning to the given word.
Fundamental
Out of given alternatives, choose the word which can be substituted for the given words/ sentence.
Cause someone to do something through reasoning or argument.
Out of given alternatives, choose the word which can be substituted for the given words/ sentence.
Expect or predict that something will happen.
Out of given alternatives, choose the word which can be substituted for the given words/ sentence.
Arising from natural instinct rather than conscious thought.
Out of given alternatives, choose the word which can be substituted for the given words/ sentence.
Absolutely necessary; extremely important.
A statement with one blank is given below. Choose the set of words from the given options which can be used to fill the given blank.
The tribes lived _________ customs different from anything the English had ever seen
A statement with one blank is given below. Choose the set of words from the given options which can be used to fill the given blank.
He is always angry ________ his children
A statement with one blank is given below. Choose the set of words from the given options which can be used to fill the given blank.
We were shocked by the young man’s ________ for money.
Out of given alternatives select the option which best expresses the meaning of given idiom/ phrase.
By putting two and two together
Out of given alternatives select the option which best expresses the meaning of given idiom/ phrase.
to face the music
Out of given alternatives select the option which best expresses the meaning of given idiom/ phrase.
He was progressing by leaps and hounds because of his hard work.
Which of phrases given below each sentence should replace the phrase printed in bold type to make the grammatically correct? If the sentence is correct as it is, mark 'd' as the answer.
The Ministry has directed Banks (1)/ to do away with their (2)/ separate promotion policies a move (3)/ strongly opposed by the officers unions (4)/ No error (5)
Explanation: The sentence is not correct as written because there should be a pause or comma before a move, making it separate promotion policies, a move strongly opposed by the officers unions. So the error lies in part (4), which corresponds to option (d), not No error.
Which of phrases given below each sentence should replace the phrase printed in bold type to make the grammatically correct? If the sentence is correct as it is, mark 'd' as the answer.
For much of the developing world (1)/historically, environmentalism was seen as a luxury (2)/ rather than a necessity because(3)/ always the development imperatives was seen to be urgent(4)/ No error (5)
Which of phrases given below each sentence should replace the phrase printed in bold type to make the grammatically correct? If the sentence is correct as it is, mark 'd' as the answer.
The cruel king believed (1)/ in punishing the prisoners (2)/until they did not (3)/confessed their crime (4)/ No error (5)
Read the following passage and answer the questions that follow. Some words / phrases are printed in bold in the passage in order to help you locate them while answering some of the questions asked. <br><br><br> Currently showing at the National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA) is a remarkable exhibition with aprovenance that dates back to 1925. That was the year the exhibition's subject, the legendary Ebrahim Alkazi, was born in Pune into the family of an Arab spice merchant. <br><br> Titled 'The Theatre of E. Alkazi — A Modernist Approach to Indian Theatre', the showcase is a retrospective of the life and works of Alkazi. The driving forces behind it have been his daughter, Amal Allana, a theatre doyenne in her own right, and her husband, the stage designer Nissar Allana. The exhibition continues till later this month, when Alkazi will turn 91. And in a sidelight of curated talks, Allana provides us rare insight into the man single-handedly credited with overhauling the National School of Drama into a legitimate national institution during his long tenure as its director from 1962 to 1977. Of course, before that, Alkazi had an eventful innings in Bombay. Under the aegis of the Theatre Group and the Theatre Unit, he galvanized the English theatre scene in the city. <br><br> The exhibition had its first airing in January at Delhi's Triveni Kala Sangam, where the Alkazi family founded the Art Heritage Gallery in 1977. In this Mumbai outing, the archival material is distributed to the semicircular galleries arranged around the central stairwell at the NGMA. Mock-ups of posters of Alkazi's celebrated productions adorn the walls of the entrance hall. If cinema hadn't swamped popular culture with its excesses, and theatre had been much less niche, some of these imprints could have well been the iconic images of their times. For instance, the stricken countenance of Usha Amin on a poster for Medea (1961), or a fetching Alaknanda Samarth pinned to the floor as a man looms ominously over her in Miss Julie (1960), or Rohini Hattangady conferring with Naseeruddin Shah in pitch-dark make-up in Sultan Razia (1974). The original photographs were, of course, in black and white. In these reconstructions, they are overlaid with anachronistic colors and typefaces that could perhaps warrant a rethink. As with any institutional display, the occasional tackiness doesn't really detract from the substance. Peering closer, the initials of Alkazi's Theatre Unit, arranged into a pitchfork, become an unmistakable monogram of quality. <br><br> Panels emblazoned 'The Alkazi Times' present the signposts of Alkazi's life as news clippings, interspersed with actual microfiche footage — ascensions of kings and Prime Ministers, declarations of war and independence, and even snapshots from theatre history. It is certainly monumental in scale, full of information about Alkazi's genealogy, childhood, education and illustrious career. While there is the slightest whiff of propaganda, it is whittled down by Allana's skills as a self-effacing raconteur during the talks. Her accounts are peppered with heart-warming personal anecdotes that give us a measure of the real person behind the bronzed persona. <br><br> We learn of how Alkazi came to take up the reins of Theatre Group after the untimely passing of Sultan 'Bobby' Padamsee, the young genius who was one of his formative influences. One of their earliest collaborations was Padamsee's version of Oscar Wilde's Salomé. The play was barred from performance at their alma mater, St Xavier's College, because of its risqué material and Wilde's festering notoriety as a gay felon even in India. It was ultimately performed at the very venue that is now housing the exhibition. Allana is thus able to touchingly fashion the showcase as a homecoming soirée. Later, there is a piquant episode at England's Dartington Hall. As a student at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, Alkazi had requested Dartington founder Leonard Elmhirst the princely sum of £4 so to return to India by ship. Elmhirst graciously complied. The letters exchanged still exist, and have been preserved (though they are not part of this exhibit). <br><br> The galleries themselves, chock-a-block with photographs, come across more like a feat of collation than curation. Yet, within this preponderance of imagery, there are stories that can be pieced together. The clarion call of Dharamvir Bharati's Andha Yug (directed by Alkazi in 1962) sounded off from the ramparts of Feroze Shah Kotla changed the manner in which Hindi theatre was presented. Its political echoes found resonance in a country undergoing massive blood-letting. Nehru and his mandarins all attended one of the earliest stagings, and the play placed Alkazi firmly on the national stage. His earlier work, though innovative, appeared to cater to the bourgeoisie. <br><br> In the NSD years, we see a coalescing of a strident western approach to drama with the 'theatre of roots' in India — traditions lying on the cusp of an imminent decrepitude. This amalgamation may have led to the derivative mongrelisation we observe so frequently in today's contemporary theatre. Yet at that time, it must have provided an active ferment for experimentation. <br><br> The photographic stills, it must be said, are mostly posed publicity shots. They capture the calculated repose of a burnished generation of actors, many recognizable faces among them. Some, grainier in texture, but with more character, appear to have been taken mid-performance. The living breathing form, theatre's raison d'être, is almost always absent, raising questions about the kind of archiving that would best serve theatre. In an upstairs gallery, video clips of a Hindi adaptation of Lorca's The House of Bernarda Alba, featuring Zohra Sehgal, are looped in perpetuity. They do provide insight into his working, but are woefully inadequate as a show reel for a man whose career spanned decades. Film, in any case, can never capture the truthfulness of a live form. <br><br> Such a display of theatre royalty comes inextricably linked with the idea of privilege, that of wealth, class or language perhaps, but primarily of pioneer-ship. Being the first off the stumbling blocks with his revolutionary ideas for theatre, Alkazi forged new ground at every step. Certainly, the politics of language added lustre to this glory. The power of English as an aspirational tongue has dimmed somewhat in recent times. Its colonial baggage has hopefully been obliterated. One can only speculate about how much these notions were amplified in the late 40s and 50s in a country just delivered from British rule. <br><br> Yet, the imprimatur of excellence that Alkazi brought to his works does not need to be rationalized to be made sense of. In order to recreate history, it is important to bring together all the elements that went in the making of an epoch. Nissar Allana has recreated miniature facsimiles of sets from Alkazi's plays and of the venues he nurtured himself, like the Meghdoot terrace. These are reproduced assiduously from photographs. In one reconstruction, Macbeth's scope is enhanced in an outdoor set that exudes both Greek grandeur and an artistic sparseness. That those were heady days is an idea one cannot escape from, when we look at how close to penury theatre practitioners operate in these days.
Which among the following is not true regarding the life of Ebrahim Alkazi as discussed in the passage?
Explanation: Statement (a) is true because Alkazi was director of NSD from 1962 to 1977, which is more than ten years. Statement (c) is also true because Sultan ‘Bobby’ Padamsee was one of his formative influences and died early, and statement (d) is true because St Xavier’s College was their alma mater. Since all the main statements are true, the question asks for a false statement but provides no valid single correct option.
Read the following passage and answer the questions that follow. Some words / phrases are printed in bold in the passage in order to help you locate them while answering some of the questions asked. <br><br><br> Currently showing at the National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA) is a remarkable exhibition with aprovenance that dates back to 1925. That was the year the exhibition's subject, the legendary Ebrahim Alkazi, was born in Pune into the family of an Arab spice merchant. <br><br> Titled 'The Theatre of E. Alkazi — A Modernist Approach to Indian Theatre', the showcase is a retrospective of the life and works of Alkazi. The driving forces behind it have been his daughter, Amal Allana, a theatre doyenne in her own right, and her husband, the stage designer Nissar Allana. The exhibition continues till later this month, when Alkazi will turn 91. And in a sidelight of curated talks, Allana provides us rare insight into the man single-handedly credited with overhauling the National School of Drama into a legitimate national institution during his long tenure as its director from 1962 to 1977. Of course, before that, Alkazi had an eventful innings in Bombay. Under the aegis of the Theatre Group and the Theatre Unit, he galvanized the English theatre scene in the city. <br><br> The exhibition had its first airing in January at Delhi's Triveni Kala Sangam, where the Alkazi family founded the Art Heritage Gallery in 1977. In this Mumbai outing, the archival material is distributed to the semicircular galleries arranged around the central stairwell at the NGMA. Mock-ups of posters of Alkazi's celebrated productions adorn the walls of the entrance hall. If cinema hadn't swamped popular culture with its excesses, and theatre had been much less niche, some of these imprints could have well been the iconic images of their times. For instance, the stricken countenance of Usha Amin on a poster for Medea (1961), or a fetching Alaknanda Samarth pinned to the floor as a man looms ominously over her in Miss Julie (1960), or Rohini Hattangady conferring with Naseeruddin Shah in pitch-dark make-up in Sultan Razia (1974). The original photographs were, of course, in black and white. In these reconstructions, they are overlaid with anachronistic colors and typefaces that could perhaps warrant a rethink. As with any institutional display, the occasional tackiness doesn't really detract from the substance. Peering closer, the initials of Alkazi's Theatre Unit, arranged into a pitchfork, become an unmistakable monogram of quality. <br><br> Panels emblazoned 'The Alkazi Times' present the signposts of Alkazi's life as news clippings, interspersed with actual microfiche footage — ascensions of kings and Prime Ministers, declarations of war and independence, and even snapshots from theatre history. It is certainly monumental in scale, full of information about Alkazi's genealogy, childhood, education and illustrious career. While there is the slightest whiff of propaganda, it is whittled down by Allana's skills as a self-effacing raconteur during the talks. Her accounts are peppered with heart-warming personal anecdotes that give us a measure of the real person behind the bronzed persona. <br><br> We learn of how Alkazi came to take up the reins of Theatre Group after the untimely passing of Sultan 'Bobby' Padamsee, the young genius who was one of his formative influences. One of their earliest collaborations was Padamsee's version of Oscar Wilde's Salomé. The play was barred from performance at their alma mater, St Xavier's College, because of its risqué material and Wilde's festering notoriety as a gay felon even in India. It was ultimately performed at the very venue that is now housing the exhibition. Allana is thus able to touchingly fashion the showcase as a homecoming soirée. Later, there is a piquant episode at England's Dartington Hall. As a student at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, Alkazi had requested Dartington founder Leonard Elmhirst the princely sum of £4 so to return to India by ship. Elmhirst graciously complied. The letters exchanged still exist, and have been preserved (though they are not part of this exhibit). <br><br> The galleries themselves, chock-a-block with photographs, come across more like a feat of collation than curation. Yet, within this preponderance of imagery, there are stories that can be pieced together. The clarion call of Dharamvir Bharati's Andha Yug (directed by Alkazi in 1962) sounded off from the ramparts of Feroze Shah Kotla changed the manner in which Hindi theatre was presented. Its political echoes found resonance in a country undergoing massive blood-letting. Nehru and his mandarins all attended one of the earliest stagings, and the play placed Alkazi firmly on the national stage. His earlier work, though innovative, appeared to cater to the bourgeoisie. <br><br> In the NSD years, we see a coalescing of a strident western approach to drama with the 'theatre of roots' in India — traditions lying on the cusp of an imminent decrepitude. This amalgamation may have led to the derivative mongrelisation we observe so frequently in today's contemporary theatre. Yet at that time, it must have provided an active ferment for experimentation. <br><br> The photographic stills, it must be said, are mostly posed publicity shots. They capture the calculated repose of a burnished generation of actors, many recognizable faces among them. Some, grainier in texture, but with more character, appear to have been taken mid-performance. The living breathing form, theatre's raison d'être, is almost always absent, raising questions about the kind of archiving that would best serve theatre. In an upstairs gallery, video clips of a Hindi adaptation of Lorca's The House of Bernarda Alba, featuring Zohra Sehgal, are looped in perpetuity. They do provide insight into his working, but are woefully inadequate as a show reel for a man whose career spanned decades. Film, in any case, can never capture the truthfulness of a live form. <br><br> Such a display of theatre royalty comes inextricably linked with the idea of privilege, that of wealth, class or language perhaps, but primarily of pioneer-ship. Being the first off the stumbling blocks with his revolutionary ideas for theatre, Alkazi forged new ground at every step. Certainly, the politics of language added lustre to this glory. The power of English as an aspirational tongue has dimmed somewhat in recent times. Its colonial baggage has hopefully been obliterated. One can only speculate about how much these notions were amplified in the late 40s and 50s in a country just delivered from British rule. <br><br> Yet, the imprimatur of excellence that Alkazi brought to his works does not need to be rationalized to be made sense of. In order to recreate history, it is important to bring together all the elements that went in the making of an epoch. Nissar Allana has recreated miniature facsimiles of sets from Alkazi's plays and of the venues he nurtured himself, like the Meghdoot terrace. These are reproduced assiduously from photographs. In one reconstruction, Macbeth's scope is enhanced in an outdoor set that exudes both Greek grandeur and an artistic sparseness. That those were heady days is an idea one cannot escape from, when we look at how close to penury theatre practitioners operate in these days.
The exhibition discussed in the passage is being held in –
Explanation: According to the passage, the exhibition is going on at National Gallery of Modern Art and it is about a person who was born way back in 1925 but single-handedly changed the landscape of modern art especially drama and theatre in India. The exhibition had its first outing in Delhi.
Read the following passage and answer the questions that follow. Some words / phrases are printed in bold in the passage in order to help you locate them while answering some of the questions asked. <br><br><br> Currently showing at the National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA) is a remarkable exhibition with aprovenance that dates back to 1925. That was the year the exhibition's subject, the legendary Ebrahim Alkazi, was born in Pune into the family of an Arab spice merchant. <br><br> Titled 'The Theatre of E. Alkazi — A Modernist Approach to Indian Theatre', the showcase is a retrospective of the life and works of Alkazi. The driving forces behind it have been his daughter, Amal Allana, a theatre doyenne in her own right, and her husband, the stage designer Nissar Allana. The exhibition continues till later this month, when Alkazi will turn 91. And in a sidelight of curated talks, Allana provides us rare insight into the man single-handedly credited with overhauling the National School of Drama into a legitimate national institution during his long tenure as its director from 1962 to 1977. Of course, before that, Alkazi had an eventful innings in Bombay. Under the aegis of the Theatre Group and the Theatre Unit, he galvanized the English theatre scene in the city. <br><br> The exhibition had its first airing in January at Delhi's Triveni Kala Sangam, where the Alkazi family founded the Art Heritage Gallery in 1977. In this Mumbai outing, the archival material is distributed to the semicircular galleries arranged around the central stairwell at the NGMA. Mock-ups of posters of Alkazi's celebrated productions adorn the walls of the entrance hall. If cinema hadn't swamped popular culture with its excesses, and theatre had been much less niche, some of these imprints could have well been the iconic images of their times. For instance, the stricken countenance of Usha Amin on a poster for Medea (1961), or a fetching Alaknanda Samarth pinned to the floor as a man looms ominously over her in Miss Julie (1960), or Rohini Hattangady conferring with Naseeruddin Shah in pitch-dark make-up in Sultan Razia (1974). The original photographs were, of course, in black and white. In these reconstructions, they are overlaid with anachronistic colors and typefaces that could perhaps warrant a rethink. As with any institutional display, the occasional tackiness doesn't really detract from the substance. Peering closer, the initials of Alkazi's Theatre Unit, arranged into a pitchfork, become an unmistakable monogram of quality. <br><br> Panels emblazoned 'The Alkazi Times' present the signposts of Alkazi's life as news clippings, interspersed with actual microfiche footage — ascensions of kings and Prime Ministers, declarations of war and independence, and even snapshots from theatre history. It is certainly monumental in scale, full of information about Alkazi's genealogy, childhood, education and illustrious career. While there is the slightest whiff of propaganda, it is whittled down by Allana's skills as a self-effacing raconteur during the talks. Her accounts are peppered with heart-warming personal anecdotes that give us a measure of the real person behind the bronzed persona. <br><br> We learn of how Alkazi came to take up the reins of Theatre Group after the untimely passing of Sultan 'Bobby' Padamsee, the young genius who was one of his formative influences. One of their earliest collaborations was Padamsee's version of Oscar Wilde's Salomé. The play was barred from performance at their alma mater, St Xavier's College, because of its risqué material and Wilde's festering notoriety as a gay felon even in India. It was ultimately performed at the very venue that is now housing the exhibition. Allana is thus able to touchingly fashion the showcase as a homecoming soirée. Later, there is a piquant episode at England's Dartington Hall. As a student at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, Alkazi had requested Dartington founder Leonard Elmhirst the princely sum of £4 so to return to India by ship. Elmhirst graciously complied. The letters exchanged still exist, and have been preserved (though they are not part of this exhibit). <br><br> The galleries themselves, chock-a-block with photographs, come across more like a feat of collation than curation. Yet, within this preponderance of imagery, there are stories that can be pieced together. The clarion call of Dharamvir Bharati's Andha Yug (directed by Alkazi in 1962) sounded off from the ramparts of Feroze Shah Kotla changed the manner in which Hindi theatre was presented. Its political echoes found resonance in a country undergoing massive blood-letting. Nehru and his mandarins all attended one of the earliest stagings, and the play placed Alkazi firmly on the national stage. His earlier work, though innovative, appeared to cater to the bourgeoisie. <br><br> In the NSD years, we see a coalescing of a strident western approach to drama with the 'theatre of roots' in India — traditions lying on the cusp of an imminent decrepitude. This amalgamation may have led to the derivative mongrelisation we observe so frequently in today's contemporary theatre. Yet at that time, it must have provided an active ferment for experimentation. <br><br> The photographic stills, it must be said, are mostly posed publicity shots. They capture the calculated repose of a burnished generation of actors, many recognizable faces among them. Some, grainier in texture, but with more character, appear to have been taken mid-performance. The living breathing form, theatre's raison d'être, is almost always absent, raising questions about the kind of archiving that would best serve theatre. In an upstairs gallery, video clips of a Hindi adaptation of Lorca's The House of Bernarda Alba, featuring Zohra Sehgal, are looped in perpetuity. They do provide insight into his working, but are woefully inadequate as a show reel for a man whose career spanned decades. Film, in any case, can never capture the truthfulness of a live form. <br><br> Such a display of theatre royalty comes inextricably linked with the idea of privilege, that of wealth, class or language perhaps, but primarily of pioneer-ship. Being the first off the stumbling blocks with his revolutionary ideas for theatre, Alkazi forged new ground at every step. Certainly, the politics of language added lustre to this glory. The power of English as an aspirational tongue has dimmed somewhat in recent times. Its colonial baggage has hopefully been obliterated. One can only speculate about how much these notions were amplified in the late 40s and 50s in a country just delivered from British rule. <br><br> Yet, the imprimatur of excellence that Alkazi brought to his works does not need to be rationalized to be made sense of. In order to recreate history, it is important to bring together all the elements that went in the making of an epoch. Nissar Allana has recreated miniature facsimiles of sets from Alkazi's plays and of the venues he nurtured himself, like the Meghdoot terrace. These are reproduced assiduously from photographs. In one reconstruction, Macbeth's scope is enhanced in an outdoor set that exudes both Greek grandeur and an artistic sparseness. That those were heady days is an idea one cannot escape from, when we look at how close to penury theatre practitioners operate in these days.
What can you infer about the family background of Ebrahim Alkazi from the details given in the passage?
Explanation: The passage states that Alkazi was born into the family of an Arab spice merchant, which supports the inference that he did not come from a theatre family background. There is no mention of any relative introducing him to theatre, so option (a) is the best answer.
Read the following passage and answer the questions that follow. Some words / phrases are printed in bold in the passage in order to help you locate them while answering some of the questions asked. <br><br><br> Currently showing at the National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA) is a remarkable exhibition with aprovenance that dates back to 1925. That was the year the exhibition's subject, the legendary Ebrahim Alkazi, was born in Pune into the family of an Arab spice merchant. <br><br> Titled 'The Theatre of E. Alkazi — A Modernist Approach to Indian Theatre', the showcase is a retrospective of the life and works of Alkazi. The driving forces behind it have been his daughter, Amal Allana, a theatre doyenne in her own right, and her husband, the stage designer Nissar Allana. The exhibition continues till later this month, when Alkazi will turn 91. And in a sidelight of curated talks, Allana provides us rare insight into the man single-handedly credited with overhauling the National School of Drama into a legitimate national institution during his long tenure as its director from 1962 to 1977. Of course, before that, Alkazi had an eventful innings in Bombay. Under the aegis of the Theatre Group and the Theatre Unit, he galvanized the English theatre scene in the city. <br><br> The exhibition had its first airing in January at Delhi's Triveni Kala Sangam, where the Alkazi family founded the Art Heritage Gallery in 1977. In this Mumbai outing, the archival material is distributed to the semicircular galleries arranged around the central stairwell at the NGMA. Mock-ups of posters of Alkazi's celebrated productions adorn the walls of the entrance hall. If cinema hadn't swamped popular culture with its excesses, and theatre had been much less niche, some of these imprints could have well been the iconic images of their times. For instance, the stricken countenance of Usha Amin on a poster for Medea (1961), or a fetching Alaknanda Samarth pinned to the floor as a man looms ominously over her in Miss Julie (1960), or Rohini Hattangady conferring with Naseeruddin Shah in pitch-dark make-up in Sultan Razia (1974). The original photographs were, of course, in black and white. In these reconstructions, they are overlaid with anachronistic colors and typefaces that could perhaps warrant a rethink. As with any institutional display, the occasional tackiness doesn't really detract from the substance. Peering closer, the initials of Alkazi's Theatre Unit, arranged into a pitchfork, become an unmistakable monogram of quality. <br><br> Panels emblazoned 'The Alkazi Times' present the signposts of Alkazi's life as news clippings, interspersed with actual microfiche footage — ascensions of kings and Prime Ministers, declarations of war and independence, and even snapshots from theatre history. It is certainly monumental in scale, full of information about Alkazi's genealogy, childhood, education and illustrious career. While there is the slightest whiff of propaganda, it is whittled down by Allana's skills as a self-effacing raconteur during the talks. Her accounts are peppered with heart-warming personal anecdotes that give us a measure of the real person behind the bronzed persona. <br><br> We learn of how Alkazi came to take up the reins of Theatre Group after the untimely passing of Sultan 'Bobby' Padamsee, the young genius who was one of his formative influences. One of their earliest collaborations was Padamsee's version of Oscar Wilde's Salomé. The play was barred from performance at their alma mater, St Xavier's College, because of its risqué material and Wilde's festering notoriety as a gay felon even in India. It was ultimately performed at the very venue that is now housing the exhibition. Allana is thus able to touchingly fashion the showcase as a homecoming soirée. Later, there is a piquant episode at England's Dartington Hall. As a student at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, Alkazi had requested Dartington founder Leonard Elmhirst the princely sum of £4 so to return to India by ship. Elmhirst graciously complied. The letters exchanged still exist, and have been preserved (though they are not part of this exhibit). <br><br> The galleries themselves, chock-a-block with photographs, come across more like a feat of collation than curation. Yet, within this preponderance of imagery, there are stories that can be pieced together. The clarion call of Dharamvir Bharati's Andha Yug (directed by Alkazi in 1962) sounded off from the ramparts of Feroze Shah Kotla changed the manner in which Hindi theatre was presented. Its political echoes found resonance in a country undergoing massive blood-letting. Nehru and his mandarins all attended one of the earliest stagings, and the play placed Alkazi firmly on the national stage. His earlier work, though innovative, appeared to cater to the bourgeoisie. <br><br> In the NSD years, we see a coalescing of a strident western approach to drama with the 'theatre of roots' in India — traditions lying on the cusp of an imminent decrepitude. This amalgamation may have led to the derivative mongrelisation we observe so frequently in today's contemporary theatre. Yet at that time, it must have provided an active ferment for experimentation. <br><br> The photographic stills, it must be said, are mostly posed publicity shots. They capture the calculated repose of a burnished generation of actors, many recognizable faces among them. Some, grainier in texture, but with more character, appear to have been taken mid-performance. The living breathing form, theatre's raison d'être, is almost always absent, raising questions about the kind of archiving that would best serve theatre. In an upstairs gallery, video clips of a Hindi adaptation of Lorca's The House of Bernarda Alba, featuring Zohra Sehgal, are looped in perpetuity. They do provide insight into his working, but are woefully inadequate as a show reel for a man whose career spanned decades. Film, in any case, can never capture the truthfulness of a live form. <br><br> Such a display of theatre royalty comes inextricably linked with the idea of privilege, that of wealth, class or language perhaps, but primarily of pioneer-ship. Being the first off the stumbling blocks with his revolutionary ideas for theatre, Alkazi forged new ground at every step. Certainly, the politics of language added lustre to this glory. The power of English as an aspirational tongue has dimmed somewhat in recent times. Its colonial baggage has hopefully been obliterated. One can only speculate about how much these notions were amplified in the late 40s and 50s in a country just delivered from British rule. <br><br> Yet, the imprimatur of excellence that Alkazi brought to his works does not need to be rationalized to be made sense of. In order to recreate history, it is important to bring together all the elements that went in the making of an epoch. Nissar Allana has recreated miniature facsimiles of sets from Alkazi's plays and of the venues he nurtured himself, like the Meghdoot terrace. These are reproduced assiduously from photographs. In one reconstruction, Macbeth's scope is enhanced in an outdoor set that exudes both Greek grandeur and an artistic sparseness. That those were heady days is an idea one cannot escape from, when we look at how close to penury theatre practitioners operate in these days.
Which among the following is not true regarding the exhibition that is going on in Mumbai?
Explanation: Option (a) is not supported by the passage, and option (d) is false because the exhibition had already first aired in Delhi. Option (c) is also incorrect because the preserved letters mentioned are between Alkazi and Leonard Elmhirst, not between Alkazi and Padamsee. Since more than one statement is false and no exact valid combination is provided, this question has no proper single correct option.
Read the following passage and answer the questions that follow. Some words / phrases are printed in bold in the passage in order to help you locate them while answering some of the questions asked. <br><br><br> Currently showing at the National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA) is a remarkable exhibition with aprovenance that dates back to 1925. That was the year the exhibition's subject, the legendary Ebrahim Alkazi, was born in Pune into the family of an Arab spice merchant. <br><br> Titled 'The Theatre of E. Alkazi — A Modernist Approach to Indian Theatre', the showcase is a retrospective of the life and works of Alkazi. The driving forces behind it have been his daughter, Amal Allana, a theatre doyenne in her own right, and her husband, the stage designer Nissar Allana. The exhibition continues till later this month, when Alkazi will turn 91. And in a sidelight of curated talks, Allana provides us rare insight into the man single-handedly credited with overhauling the National School of Drama into a legitimate national institution during his long tenure as its director from 1962 to 1977. Of course, before that, Alkazi had an eventful innings in Bombay. Under the aegis of the Theatre Group and the Theatre Unit, he galvanized the English theatre scene in the city. <br><br> The exhibition had its first airing in January at Delhi's Triveni Kala Sangam, where the Alkazi family founded the Art Heritage Gallery in 1977. In this Mumbai outing, the archival material is distributed to the semicircular galleries arranged around the central stairwell at the NGMA. Mock-ups of posters of Alkazi's celebrated productions adorn the walls of the entrance hall. If cinema hadn't swamped popular culture with its excesses, and theatre had been much less niche, some of these imprints could have well been the iconic images of their times. For instance, the stricken countenance of Usha Amin on a poster for Medea (1961), or a fetching Alaknanda Samarth pinned to the floor as a man looms ominously over her in Miss Julie (1960), or Rohini Hattangady conferring with Naseeruddin Shah in pitch-dark make-up in Sultan Razia (1974). The original photographs were, of course, in black and white. In these reconstructions, they are overlaid with anachronistic colors and typefaces that could perhaps warrant a rethink. As with any institutional display, the occasional tackiness doesn't really detract from the substance. Peering closer, the initials of Alkazi's Theatre Unit, arranged into a pitchfork, become an unmistakable monogram of quality. <br><br> Panels emblazoned 'The Alkazi Times' present the signposts of Alkazi's life as news clippings, interspersed with actual microfiche footage — ascensions of kings and Prime Ministers, declarations of war and independence, and even snapshots from theatre history. It is certainly monumental in scale, full of information about Alkazi's genealogy, childhood, education and illustrious career. While there is the slightest whiff of propaganda, it is whittled down by Allana's skills as a self-effacing raconteur during the talks. Her accounts are peppered with heart-warming personal anecdotes that give us a measure of the real person behind the bronzed persona. <br><br> We learn of how Alkazi came to take up the reins of Theatre Group after the untimely passing of Sultan 'Bobby' Padamsee, the young genius who was one of his formative influences. One of their earliest collaborations was Padamsee's version of Oscar Wilde's Salomé. The play was barred from performance at their alma mater, St Xavier's College, because of its risqué material and Wilde's festering notoriety as a gay felon even in India. It was ultimately performed at the very venue that is now housing the exhibition. Allana is thus able to touchingly fashion the showcase as a homecoming soirée. Later, there is a piquant episode at England's Dartington Hall. As a student at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, Alkazi had requested Dartington founder Leonard Elmhirst the princely sum of £4 so to return to India by ship. Elmhirst graciously complied. The letters exchanged still exist, and have been preserved (though they are not part of this exhibit). <br><br> The galleries themselves, chock-a-block with photographs, come across more like a feat of collation than curation. Yet, within this preponderance of imagery, there are stories that can be pieced together. The clarion call of Dharamvir Bharati's Andha Yug (directed by Alkazi in 1962) sounded off from the ramparts of Feroze Shah Kotla changed the manner in which Hindi theatre was presented. Its political echoes found resonance in a country undergoing massive blood-letting. Nehru and his mandarins all attended one of the earliest stagings, and the play placed Alkazi firmly on the national stage. His earlier work, though innovative, appeared to cater to the bourgeoisie. <br><br> In the NSD years, we see a coalescing of a strident western approach to drama with the 'theatre of roots' in India — traditions lying on the cusp of an imminent decrepitude. This amalgamation may have led to the derivative mongrelisation we observe so frequently in today's contemporary theatre. Yet at that time, it must have provided an active ferment for experimentation. <br><br> The photographic stills, it must be said, are mostly posed publicity shots. They capture the calculated repose of a burnished generation of actors, many recognizable faces among them. Some, grainier in texture, but with more character, appear to have been taken mid-performance. The living breathing form, theatre's raison d'être, is almost always absent, raising questions about the kind of archiving that would best serve theatre. In an upstairs gallery, video clips of a Hindi adaptation of Lorca's The House of Bernarda Alba, featuring Zohra Sehgal, are looped in perpetuity. They do provide insight into his working, but are woefully inadequate as a show reel for a man whose career spanned decades. Film, in any case, can never capture the truthfulness of a live form. <br><br> Such a display of theatre royalty comes inextricably linked with the idea of privilege, that of wealth, class or language perhaps, but primarily of pioneer-ship. Being the first off the stumbling blocks with his revolutionary ideas for theatre, Alkazi forged new ground at every step. Certainly, the politics of language added lustre to this glory. The power of English as an aspirational tongue has dimmed somewhat in recent times. Its colonial baggage has hopefully been obliterated. One can only speculate about how much these notions were amplified in the late 40s and 50s in a country just delivered from British rule. <br><br> Yet, the imprimatur of excellence that Alkazi brought to his works does not need to be rationalized to be made sense of. In order to recreate history, it is important to bring together all the elements that went in the making of an epoch. Nissar Allana has recreated miniature facsimiles of sets from Alkazi's plays and of the venues he nurtured himself, like the Meghdoot terrace. These are reproduced assiduously from photographs. In one reconstruction, Macbeth's scope is enhanced in an outdoor set that exudes both Greek grandeur and an artistic sparseness. That those were heady days is an idea one cannot escape from, when we look at how close to penury theatre practitioners operate in these days.
Which among the following institutions Alkazi was not a part of?
Explanation: According to the information given in the passage, both Ebrahim Alkazi and Padamsee were students of St Xavier’s College as the organization did not give permission to the duo for showcasing Oscar Wilde’s play as Wilde was considered a gay felon in India back then. <br><br> Again, he was the director of the National School of Drama and changed the approach of the organization being there from 1962 to 1977. <br><br> At the same time, the mention of Alkazi being a student at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts in England is also there in the passage. These make option (e) the right choice among the given options.
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