NCERT Solutions for Class 9 English Chapter 3 Winds of Change (PDF) – 2027

Yes — my grandmother uses a hand fan every summer evening on the verandah, and we all reach for it when the power goes. We call it a pankha; my grandmother, who grew up near Patna, calls it a bena. Ours is made of thin bamboo strips woven over a split-bamboo frame, with a red cotton border stitched round the edge.

1 – (iv), 2 – (v), 3 – (i), 4 – (vi), 5 – (iii), 6 – (ii).

indigenous = local — from where it originated; innovative = new and original in approach; industrious = hardworking; intricate = elaborate/detailed; invoked = brought out; initiatives = actions to improve a situation.

The completed table (the answers in bold are the ones you supply):

(i) True. Pankhas were “significant cultural goods distributed through trade routes” and were “considered exotic and stylish”, so they were valued and widely traded.

(ii) Because each village and town made its own variety of pankha, with its own materials and designs, in the same way over many generations. They are old, inherited designs, not new inventions.

(iii) …because it tells us what people thought of pankhas (“were considered”) — a judgement of taste that cannot be checked or proved.

(iv) The need was the same everywhere: most of India is hot for much of the year, and before electricity a hand fan was the only way to move air.

(v) A. Each kind of pankha could be distinguished from the other.

(i) Electric fans, coolers and air-conditioners have replaced the hand fan, so fewer people use or make pankhas, and the craft “runs the risk of slowly losing its presence among Indians”.

(ii) …because a pankha carries the materials, designs, customs, stories and skills of its region, handed down through generations — it is a way of life, not just an object.

(iii) “Once made for personal use, over time this handicraft has transformed into a commercial business and now provides some form of livelihood to India’s artisans.”

(iv) Steady demand gives artisans a regular income from their craft, so they can earn a sustainable livelihood and keep passing the skill on.

(v) B. economic demand

The title works on two levels. Literally, a pankha exists to make wind, so “winds” names the chapter’s subject. Figuratively, “winds of change” means a shift that cannot be stopped — and the chapter traces exactly such a shift: from fanning deities and kings to household use, from an everyday object to one “restricted to decorative purposes”, and from something “made for personal use” to “a commercial business”. Technology — the electric fan, another maker of wind — drives this change and now threatens the craft. The title is hopeful too: winds can change direction, as the closing call to celebrate pankhas shows.

The chapter says, “The structure of each fan reflects the cultural core of the region that crafts it.”

1. Rajasthan: its zardozi hand fan shows “glittering ornate and encrusted gold threadwork”, the region’s rich embroidery, while its temple fans of engraved brass with a long handle, and painted fans “usually offered to gods”, reflect its temple traditions.

2. Gujarat: “Gujarat is the centre for bead craft in India”, so its fans are covered with colourful beads and have silver handles; its cotton fans carry the state’s mirror work, and Kutch makes hand-stitched leather fans decorated with thread and wool.

A balance between tradition and innovation can keep the pankha alive. Tradition alone keeps the old skill but loses buyers, because “the use of pankhas has been restricted to decorative purposes” and nobody needs a hand fan to keep cool any more. Innovation alone keeps buyers but loses the craft, if machine-made or plastic copies replace the handwork that makes each fan a sign of its region. Together, traditional skills and materials — zardozi, mirror work, sola, moonj — give the pankha its value, while new designs and uses (wall décor, gifts, lighter fans, online sale) bring new buyers. The chapter shows this working: demand has risen because of “the different versions of the pankha being crafted”. Steady sales give artisans a livelihood, so the skill is passed on.

Pankha-making workshops can help preserve the craft in several ways:

• They pass on the skill: learners watch and work beside an artisan, so the craft does not die out with one family.
• They “help spread awareness about the beauty and importance of this craft in India’s culture”, creating buyers who value handwork.
• They let pankha makers “demonstrate their craft and regain its popularity”, and give them “a commercial platform to create a sustainable livelihood”.
• They record the steps, materials and tools of the craft, which might otherwise be forgotten.

Celebrating pankhas — appreciating “the culture, stories, and artistry that this handicraft invokes” — helps both the craft and its makers.

For the craft: it turns the pankha from an out-of-date tool into valued heritage, so it gets attention and protection, and its stories — from the Ajanta paintings to Bengali homes — are kept alive.

For artisans: it allows them “to demonstrate their craft and regain its popularity”, gives them “a commercial platform to create a sustainable livelihood”, and brings respect, which encourages the next generation to continue the craft.

The pankha has changed from an object of use to an object of display. Earlier it fanned deities in temples and kings in royal courts, and was “made for personal use” in homes. Today electric fans do that work, and “the use of pankhas has been restricted to decorative purposes” — Gujarat’s bead fans, for example, are “commonly used as wall decorations”. So the pankha now stands for regional identity, tradition and skill rather than relief from heat. It is made mainly for buyers as “a commercial business”, and its practical know-how is at risk even while the object survives.

Classification:

More such pairs from the text: beads and stones, cane and palm leaves, grass and metal (material); shapes and patterns, shapes and sizes, colourful and sturdy (appearance).

(i) The students have to take the English exam tomorrow.
(ii) The interviewer asked the candidate to take a seat.
(iii) My scooter ran into a car.
(iv) I must take responsibility for my success.
(v) I would like to improve my grammar.

1. have become  2. have worked  3. have adopted  4. has transformed

Underline the whole verb phrase — the helping verb have/has + the past participle. These verbs are in the present perfect tense.

(i) have created  (ii) have mastered  (iii) has evolved  (iv) have passed  (v) have performed

The plural subjects (puppeteers, they) take have; puppetry is singular, so it takes has.

The four true statements are 1, 2, 3 and 6.

4, 5 and 7 are false: it is Rohan, not Priya, who says Grandma likes keeping special things close (4); Rohan calls the intricate appliqué fans “beautiful” (5); and he says, “let’s ask Mom for her opinion” (7).

Sample answer (the hand fan): “Namaste! I am the hand fan — the pankha, the oldest fan here. My name comes from pankh, the feather of a bird, and my ancestors are painted on the walls of Ajanta. I am light and woven from palm leaf or bamboo, with a handle you hold in one hand. I like that I never need electricity: when the power fails, everyone remembers me. My weakness? I cool only one person, and only as long as an arm keeps moving me. What makes me unique is that I am a work of art — every region of India gives me its own material and design. The other fans move air; I move air and carry a culture.”

Sample answer: A moonj-grass coaster set

The artefact is a set of four round coasters, each 10 centimetres across and about 6 millimetres thick, coiled in a flat spiral from the centre outwards. Most coils are the natural straw colour of the grass; the outer coils are dyed magenta and green. The coasters are made of moonj grass wound over a core of kaisa grass and finished with cotton thread; no glue or plastic is used. The craft belongs to the Prayagraj region of Uttar Pradesh, where moonj is traditionally made into baskets, boxes, mats and square hand fans. Once made only for home use, it is now made for sale, and the range includes coasters, trays and wall panels. The coasters are placed under hot cups and must be kept dry, because damp grass grows mould.

Sample answer (outline): Sikki grass craft of Mithila, Bihar

1. Features: baskets, boxes (pauti), toys and fans coiled from shiny golden grass, with dyed strands in magenta, green and black.
2. Material: sikki grass from the wetlands of north Bihar, dried in the sun and coiled round a core of kaisa grass.
3. Region and use: Mithila (Madhubani, Darbhanga, Sitamarhi); sikki boxes are part of a bride’s gifts, and toys are made for children.
4. Process: cut and dry the grass → split the stems → dye some strands → coil and stitch them round the core → trim and finish.
5. Today: made for sale by women’s self-help groups as gift boxes and décor; keep it dry, away from damp.

Sample answer (describing the process): “We made our paper hand fan in five steps. First, we drew a watermelon design on a sheet of chart paper — red, with green borders and black seeds. Second, we folded the sheet into even concertina pleats, about 1.5 cm wide. Third, we folded the pleated strip in half and tied the fold with a thread, so that it opened into a half-circle. Fourth, we made a second half the same way and glued the two halves edge to edge to form a full circle. Finally, we glued two ice-cream sticks, one on each side, as a handle and held them until the glue set.”

No question is set — the book asks you to read and enjoy the story. In brief: Johnsy, ill with pneumonia, decides she will die when the last ivy leaf falls. One leaf survives two stormy nights, and she regains the will to live. Then Sue tells her that old Behrman, a painter, has died of pneumonia: on the stormy night the last real leaf fell, he painted a leaf on the wall — his masterpiece. As with the pankha, a made object here carries far more than its use: it carries a life.

In our school garden, green is not one colour: the new leaves are yellow-green, the tulsi is grey-green and the mango leaves are so dark they look almost black in the shade. Underfoot is brown soil; along the border are orange and yellow marigolds; at knee height are red and pink roses; above everything is the deep green of the banyan, with blue sky showing through. Butterflies add flashes of yellow and orange, and the bench and the brick border are painted white and red.

• Just as a garden is planned before it is planted, similarly, a painting is planned before the first brushstroke.
• A garden and a painting, both are full of colours and need patience to create.
• Colour is common to both a garden and a painting.
• Like a garden, a painting too makes people stop, look and feel calm.

Palette: the paint box with twelve colours on the left.
Canvas: the watercolour painting in the middle — a tree, hills, water and a rainbow.
A hue: for example, the pale violet of the distant hills, or the yellow-green of the sunlit slope.

1. The earth is portrayed as a rich palette where gardeners’ dreams flourish in the form of seeds, awaiting spring.
2. The garden flowers bloom into a beautiful display of different blossoms, resembling a painting by Mother Nature, in the light of morning.
3. Each garden is likened to a wide canvas, integrating art and life. Through the efforts of gardeners, gardens transform into still-life paintings.

Stanza 1 – 4. Earth and Possibilities
Stanza 2 – 1. Nature’s Work of Art
Stanza 3 – 3. Gardens as Living Canvases

The extra titles are 2. Sweet-smelling Blossoms (the poem never mentions smell) and 5. The Painter’s Canvas.

1 – (iv), 2 – (vi), 3 – (ii), 4 – (i), 5 – (vii), 6 – (v), 7 – (iii).

Imagery – colours, brushstrokes, blossoms, shades of green; Metaphor – garden as a painting, plot as canvas, seeds as brushstrokes; Rhyme scheme – AABB; Tone – appreciative; Mood – joyful; Speaker – a gardener; Alliteration – ‘Blossoms bloom’.

(i) B. She has a heart of gold — the heart is called gold (precious) without using ‘like’ or ‘as’.

(ii) …that the seeds have been sown carefully and correctly — in the right place, at the right depth and in the right season — like a painter’s deliberate brushstrokes, so that they will grow well.

(iii) ‘Hue’ is a painter’s word, like palette, brushstrokes and canvas, so it keeps the painting metaphor. It also means a particular shade, suggesting spring’s many shades, and it rhymes with ‘true’.

(iv) Summer : hot :: Spring : vibrant

(v) A. Both (A) and (R) are true and (R) is the correct explanation of (A).

(i) ‘Each plot’ refers to every piece or bed of garden land that a gardener digs, plants and tends.

(ii) A. beautiful and clear / laughter and cheer — ‘clear’ and ‘cheer’ rhyme (AA), just as ‘wide’ and ‘coincide’ do.

(iii) “Where art and life coincide.”

(iv) …that a bare plot, like a blank canvas, is a surface on which the gardener creates a work of art by choosing what to plant, where, and in which colours.

(v) ‘Wide’ suggests openness and wide scope for creativity, while ‘long’ only gives a measurement; ‘wide’ also rhymes with ‘coincide’.

…because both begin with a bare surface — the painter with a blank canvas, the gardener with bare soil — and patiently create a colourful picture on it with their own hands, stroke by stroke or seed by seed.

…as a palette holds all the colours from which a painting is made, and the earth, “rich and deep”, holds all the colours that the garden will later show in its flowers and leaves.

…because each seed, like each brushstroke, is a small, deliberate act placed with care (“planted true”), and together they make up the whole colourful picture that appears later.

…as both are bounded, empty surfaces at first, on which the maker creates a work of art — a painting on the canvas, a garden in the plot.

The metaphor ‘Brushstrokes of seeds’ presents the gardener as a painter. Like a brushstroke, each seed is placed deliberately in the right spot (“planted true”), so gardening becomes composing a picture rather than just sowing. The plot becomes a canvas on which every clump and line of colour is the gardener’s choice. This raises gardening from manual labour to a skilled art that deserves respect. The metaphor also shows what makes gardening special: a seed’s colour appears only in spring, so the gardener must plan ahead and wait — “Awaiting spring’s vibrant hue.”

The poet sees nature and creativity as partners that meet in the same place. ‘Coincide’ means they happen together: every plot is a canvas where the living growth of nature and human art become one. Nature is itself creative — the garden is “Nature’s artwork, ever new” — while the gardener supplies the design, the seeds and the labour. And because it is “Each plot”, art is not limited to studios: any ordinary patch of soil, tended with care, can become a work of art.

Yes, the imagery largely succeeds. The poet uses one consistent set of painter’s words — palette, brushstrokes, shades, canvas, painting — so the reader sees the whole garden as a single picture. “Shades of green, red, and blue” suggests many colours, and “Dancing in the morning light” adds movement and light. The alliteration in “Blossoms bloom” and the neat AABB couplets add to the effect. However, the imagery appeals only to sight — there is no scent, sound or touch — and no flower is named, so the picture stays general rather than detailed.

Adding yellow would have made the imagery richer. Yellow is the colour of sunlight, and the poem’s blossoms are “Dancing in the morning light”. It is also a primary colour, so a painter’s “palette” feels incomplete without it. Spring in India is full of yellow — mustard fields, marigolds, sunflowers — so it would suit “spring’s vibrant hue”. Finally, a warm yellow would contrast with the cool greens and blues, making the garden-painting brighter and livelier.

The poet sees nature’s beauty as timeless because it keeps renewing itself. ‘Still’ has two meanings. As ‘motionless’, it suggests that the gardener’s work catches a moment of beauty and holds it, like a still-life painting. As ‘even now, always’, it suggests that gardens go on becoming paintings season after season. Each flower fades, but the garden returns — “Nature’s artwork, ever new” — as long as there are hands “who till”.

The title ‘Canvas of Soil’ is apt. It states the poem’s central metaphor: the garden is a painting, and the soil is the canvas on which it is made. ‘Canvas’ brings in art and skill; ‘soil’ brings in nature and labour — together they express the key line, “Where art and life coincide”. Every image in the poem belongs to this canvas: earth as palette, seeds as brushstrokes, blossoms as “a painted sight”. The title also honours the gardener, who turns ordinary soil into art: “In the hands of those who till, / Gardens become paintings still.”

(two things for each shade):

• I think easels means stands that hold a canvas while it is painted because the passage talks about painters approaching them, each framing a canvas.
• I think tonal range means the range of light and dark tones in a painting because the passage talks about playing with shades and hues.
• I think underpainting means the first base layer of paint because the passage talks about doing it first and then filling in the final colours.
• I think mural means a painting made on a wall because the passage talks about depicting a Spring Day on the classroom wall.

Picture 2 — the tap and the coiled watering hose. She talks about the butterflies around the flowers (3) and the painted garden bench (1), but never mentions a tap, a hose or watering.

1. pink  2. rose  3. left corners  4. 20  5. white and red  6. banyan  7. dustbins

Flower garden: it is beautiful and colourful; it calms and refreshes people; it attracts butterflies, bees and birds; it gives flowers for worship and gifts; many flowering plants need little water or care.

Vegetable garden: it gives fresh vegetables and herbs every day; it saves money; the food is free from unknown chemicals; kitchen waste can become compost; it teaches patience and responsibility.

Sample answer (choosing the vegetable garden):

• “I prefer a vegetable garden to a flower garden because it gives us something back every week — my mother has not bought coriander or green chillies for two years.”
• “For me, it is a vegetable patch instead of a flower bed due to the size of our terrace, which has room for only eight pots.”
• “If I had a choice I’d rather have a vegetable garden than a flower garden as it makes our kitchen waste useful: the peels go into the compost drum and come back as soil.”
• “I would prefer growing vegetables rather than flowers since I can see the result in three weeks, and that keeps me interested enough to water them every day.”

At seven in the morning the Company Bagh is still half in shadow, and green is not one colour but a dozen. The grass along the path is pale pistachio where the sun reaches it and olive in the shade. Behind the beds the mango leaves hang dark and leathery, while tulsi in earthen pots shows a dusty grey-green.

Against all this green the reds arrive like a shout. Crimson roses by the gate have petals as thin and cool as tissue paper, and salmon-pink portulaca lies glossy near the ground. The blues are quieter: tiny indigo flowers hide under the hedge, and plumbago spreads a soft sky blue. As the sun climbs, the greens flatten, the reds burn brighter and the wet grass glitters — a canvas of soil with the paint not yet dry.

Sample plan: choose assignment (1) and assignment (4).

(1) Five famous gardens of India: Amrit Udyan (Rashtrapati Bhavan, New Delhi), Brindavan Gardens (near Mysuru), Shalimar Bagh (Srinagar), Lalbagh Botanical Garden (Bengaluru) and the Rock Garden (Chandigarh). Write about each one’s history, design and cultural importance, and present a short report.

(4) Interview with a gardener — sample questions: How long have you worked as a gardener, and who taught you? Which plants grow best here with little water? How do you make compost? Which pest troubles you most, and how do you deal with it? Then write a summary of what you learnt.

No question is set — the book asks you to read and enjoy the poem. In this sonnet Toru Dutt describes her garden, girdled by “A sea of foliage” that is “not a sea of dull unvaried green”: light-green tamarinds, dark mango trees, grey palms “like pillars”, and red seemul flowers “startling like a trumpet’s sound”. Loveliest of all are the bamboos in moonlight, when the white lotus becomes “a cup of silver” — a “primeval Eden”. Like ‘Canvas of Soil’, it paints a garden in shades of colour.