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ऐ ख़ुशी तू कह ाँ है

ऐ ख़ुशी त ूकह ॉ है त़ुझभ ेही स य जह ॉ है ढूॊढने गम ककतन ही त़ुझको न ज न ेत ूछ़ु ऩी कह ॉ है यॊगों के स गय को सज न ेव री ऐ ख़ुशी त ूकह ॉ है द़ुननम को फस न ेव री, ऐ ख़ुशी त ूकह ॉ है?

तयेे ज न ेस ेहभ ऩय गभ क स म है न ज न ेइस गभ न ेत़ुझ ेकह ॉ छ़ु ऩ म है हय ऩर रगत भ नो तये ऩैग भ आम है ऩय जफ बी ऩढ़कय देख हभेश गभ ही ऩ म है फ रयश की फूॊदों के सॊग त़ुने जो सन्देश बेज थ गभ के फ हय झ ॉक तो भैंने उसको देख थ जैस ेतसैे गभ को छोड़कय, भैं तयेी गरी भें आम थ ; रहरह त ेखेतों भें जैसे, त़ुझे न चत ेऩ म थ , ड क घय व रों न ेजफ भ़ुझ,े तये ऩत फत म थ ; यईसों के फॊगरों के फीच, कहीॊ चौखट ऩे त़ुझ ेऩ म थ ;

तयेी आखों भें भैंने, गभ क खौप देख थ ; तफ भ़ुझ ेऩत चर , भैं अॊधेयों भें क्मों अकेर थ , ख री ह थ रेकय जफ भैं, घय को व ऩस ऩह़ुॉच थ ; तफ घय व रों न ेभ़ुझस,े तयेे फ ये भें ऩ़ुछ थ ; भैंने कह … श मद भैं, गरत जगह ज ऩॊह़ुच थ ; दयू-दयू तक गभ के अर व , कोई न औय दजू थ ;; 'सददमों से हभ ये ऩूववज, मही ऩयॊऩय चर यहे है; ख़ुशी तयेी ख़ुशी के लरए, गभ से त़ुझ ेफच यहे है; ख़ुशी तयेी ख़ुशी के लरए, गभ से त़ुझ ेफच यहे है'; कपय श मद हभ ये फच्च,े मही सव र दोहय एॉगे; गभ से रड़त हभ ेदेखकय, कपय श ॊत हो ज एॉगे; कपय श मद व ेऩूछें गे, ऐ ख़ुशी त ूकह ॉ है ??

Rishab Agarwal Room No 227

3

From the Editor’s Desk

even Ages is finally here. Getting

articles isn’t that easy after all and I

learnt it the hard way. From treats to e-

paining (desperate times, desperate

measures) I tried everything and finally things

worked out for the best. The magazine is in

front of you after a long break of 20 years!!

I would take the opportunity to thank all the

contributors and hope that the tradition

continues. With this optimistic message I sign

off hoping that this issue brings a smile on

your face.

Contents

ऐ ख़ुशी त ूकह ॉ है 2

Some things never Change 4 Socials @ IITB 5 A thousand Splendid Spoons 6 The case of the killer Rat 8 Lady of the lake 9 Purpose 10 A game-theoretic/genetic view on female exploitation

11

Namesake 13 Millau Bridge – An Artwork Amidst Clouds

14

Hotel seven Thirdie Awards 16

Comic Strips – Vighnesh Rege

Sketches – Debprotim Roy

________________________________________________________ Hostel Updates

Cultural

Event Position Special Mention Dramatics Main GC 5 CC, Rishab, Sajal, Paroksh, Piyush

Goonj 2 Banku, Babaan, Edla, Ralph, Avinash and Rounak

Photography GC 3 Tanmay Goswami

JAM 2 Vaibhav Unhelkar Extempore 2 Akhil Shrivatsan Word-Games GC 4 Akhil , Mehul Jain, Ayush Baheti

Sports

Game Points in GC Best Players Swimming 9 Parth Choksi Waterpolo 9 Mayank Gupta Volleyball 2 Uday and Harshit Carrom 2 Lizaz Kho Kho 2 Deepak, Sagar and Amrit Lawn tennis 2 Shantanu and Smeet

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4

Some things never Change

here was something horribly casual about him. Maybe it was his gait – he appeared to fling his arms out as he

walked. Or perhaps, it was the blank look on his face. I couldn’t be sure what it was. He took a seat at a table quite a distance away. I looked away. Then down at my coffee. Then to an Indian e-paper on my table.

SUNDAY, 28th AUGUST, 2050:

There had been a racial attack against an Indian in some faraway land X a couple of weeks ago. Meanwhile, Indians back home had been quick to respond. The Government condemned the attacks. The Opposition blamed the Government for the attacks and demanded that the Prime Minister step down immediately. They were also quick in demanding that India snap cricketing ties with X immediately, claiming that this was the best way to solve the issue at hand. Back home, Indians were quick to burn effigies, flags and cars owned by fellow Indians. A candlelight vigil is expected to be observed sometime soon.

Meanwhile, authorities in X were also quick to realize that Indian students accounted for a substantial inflow of money. They will soon be taking all the necessary steps to woo more Indian students into X. They were also quick to appeal to India not to sever cricketing ties out of fear that X’s players may not be able to take part in any of the 12 IPL’s held in a year. Also, some opportunistic Indian politician was quick to point out that the victim was of a certain caste and that Indians of another caste might have had something to do with the attacks. Protests followed.

Back home, Indians were quick to burn effigies, flags and cars owned by fellow Indians. A candlelight vigil is expected to be observed sometime soon.

As a reaction to the aforementioned politician’s calculative manoeuvre, a leader of one of the 100 parties in India is expected to

engage in a hunger strike sometime soon. What he is protesting against or demanding is not exactly known. A famous actor condemned racial attacks in general and is now being seen as a hero by many in the nation’s press. Meanwhile his relationship with his co-star in a movie continues to make headlines on the 1st page of newspapers. Several intellectuals debated the issue on a news channel for over an hour and arrived at the insightful conclusion that racism exists because of the many races that exist in the world.

Earlier in the year, in an attempt to emulate the progress of X in the automobile sector, the Indian Government had tried to start work on an automobile factory in a certain part of India. Activists were quick to point out that farmers would have to be displaced in the process of building the plant. The Government assured farmers and activists that the farmers would be shifted a few miles to the south of the land they currently occupied and also be offered jobs in the Plant. The activists then ensured that this offer look preposterous to the farmers. Protests followed.

Back home, Indians were quick to burn effigies, flags and cars owned by fellow Indians. A candlelight vigil is expected to be observed sometime soon.

I put the e-paper aside. I carefully get up ensuring that I don’t hurt my broken leg. On my way to the counter I walk into the casual guy accidentally. He mutters something along the lines of, “You Bloody Indian” and walks away. Here I am – a student in X – looking for a better future. Still here, in spite of what happened to me a few weeks ago.

Some things never change.

Akhil Shrivatsan Room No. 132

Source:

basedonanuntruestory.wordpress.com

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Socials @ IITB

n the past, IIT-B had a tradition of organizing ‘Socials’ Nights, in which students of other colleges were invited to

IIT-B. A party was organized and these students and IITians mixed and socialized. The responsibility of inviting these colleges often went to Soc Secretaries of the different hostels. So, the inevitable happened and many girls’ colleges were called and the event disintegrated into a mass blind date. Naturally afraid of the consequences, and having incidents to prove these consequences, the Institute put an end to this tradition. But was it necessary?

To start off, guys and girls in their late teens and early twenties have an entire pool of hormones ready to explode. What they need is the right avenues to vent them out. What are these avenues? Most people choose schmoozing and socializing with members of the opposite sex. And this is exactly where the problem begins. Everyone expected College to be a string of parties and chicks. But the notoriously low sex ratio in IIT means that guys don’t really get as many opportunities as they had expected when they were younger.

Hence, IITians, on an average, are a desperate bunch. I remember a friend’s friend visiting our campus. She was hit on by four guys in one day. When she was here, it was like seeing dogs fighting for a piece of meat. She, and many others, was disgusted by this. In another incident, students from IIT Delhi groped a girl from AIIMS on stage. Even today, their wing mates talk of that incident with unbridled pride rather than shame. The point here is that, when deans or other such academic personnel raise issues of misdemeanour, their fears are anything but unfounded. IITians can very often be an unruly bunch; just take a seat in the Freshie Orientations and you’ll know. And misbehaviour on such Institute sponsored nights will surely tarnish the reputation of a revered institution.

Having taken these issues into account, let’s consider the other issue at hand. After our four/five/two years in IIT, we will step out of the institute into the outside world. We won’t have our parents, friends, wing mates, or professors holding our pinkies as we walk out. We’ll walk out of the gates of IIT alone. To avoid getting devoured by the outside world, it’s important to know how to live there. Socials Nights provide a great platform to meet people from the outside world. They provide a great opportunity to make friends from outside the institute. You’d get to meet totally different people, from totally different backgrounds, living totally different lives. Most importantly, you’d get to have fun, and yes, make a few important contacts.

But, in defence of Status Quo, don’t we already do this? There are so many college fests in Bombay, where participants from IIT are given importance. There’s our very own Mood Indigo, there’s Malhar, Kaleidoscope and so many more. There are other inter-college events, where socialization can and does happen. That’s the way friends are made, rather than through spoon-feeding.

Besides, is it the responsibility of the institute to sponsor a mass spoon-feeding session? Must the institute pay for the inability of many IITians to socialize; and for their desperation to do so? The money involved is simply prohibitive, and the pains involved even more so.

In conclusion, the dismal lives of many IITians need a spark or two to ignite the fire. Socials Nights provided these. But the dangers around organising such an event are far too many to be overlooked. So, even though we would all love to see Xavierites and HRites in our campus and love interact with them, it is too optimistic to hope for the DoSA to change Status Quo. Especially considering how well-behaved we are.

Akhil Shrivatsan Room No. 132

I

6

A Thousand Splendid Spoons

he year I entered H7: For the first time in my ‘IIT days’ I found myself, face to face one fine day, with

“The Lady of the Lake.” Later that day, I was amazed at the ease with which I was able to coin new swear words every time I referred to ‘the Lady.’ Probably this was how every mudblood sophie (read: not placed in H13) chose to spend the first few moments of his time with his new hostel (If you rolled over your bed in sleep you would only be leg in legs with your roommate. The cooler of your wing refused to work every time it saw only three quarters of the moon. The LAN port of your ‘sidei’ hasn’t been working for the past four “comp secys” and hence his LAN cord has been sticking into your LAN port, he being a senior, for the past two “G. Secs.”) And, my not-so-fair Lady had one more thing to offer: the lack of a mess. Though at first sight, it seemed a disturbing thought, over the next few days it turned out to be a blessing in disguise: the option to go non-messing. This meant that I pay only when I eat. In my freshie year, it took me four months to make a resolution that I should not eat in the canteen at least once a week and another four months to resolve that the previous resolution had to be adhered to. But when I entered my new mess-less hostel it seemed a gift. I pay the mess only when I have decided to eat there for a change. No more anti-canteen resolutions. Not only was this in itself a good monetary saving but also the allocation of other-hostel-messes to those hostel mates of mine, who chose to still ‘do the mess’, was a bonus. On those few occasions when the mess workers lost their form and prepared something good, I pretended to be just another sophie, from the Lady, who was ‘messing’ with that hostel. The result: free mess-cooked pulao, mess secy bought gulab-jamuns and the likes. Introduction of ID cards for all the ‘messers’ didn’t change a thing as the mess secy didn’t have enough time and enthu to stick them up. News about the buy-one-get-one offer from Pizza Hut mysteriously reached my ears.

Thence, I started calling Pizza Hut once every two weeks even if I couldn’t find a friend for the second pizza. Oh! The options were numerous. The taste buds lascivious. As the fourth month of my ‘non-messing era’ arrived I started getting sick of the once beautiful canteen. I could touch the oil on the noodles, smell the onions in the biryani and feel the giga-calories of the pastries. The maggi felt dry, the pizza seemed costly and the frooti was boring. I tried some new varieties in the menu. The pulao had pieces of all those vegetables that have been leftover from the previous day and the Singapore rice substituted salt with pepper. Two more months into the ‘era’ saw me frequenting the neighbouring mess with shameless vigour (well… I still wasn’t paying but hey… how much can one guy eat). The sweets were awesome. The curry was better than the canteen masala and the lactic acid was way better than the colourful carbonic acid. Surprisingly, I found myself checking the mess construction everyday with some occasional impatient enquiries. Never before did I find myself longing for the mess so desperately. So, after all, a good solution for troubled marriages could be wife swapping (yeah...that’s a bad analogy but I guess you got the point). The complete exclusion from the mess made me realize that the mess was indeed the best and healthiest place to eat. And finally the D-day came. I could hear trumpets bellowing in the background as I walked into the first lunch prepared in the new mess. Seeing the mess workers beaming, I beamed back at them. I dumped a whole variety of colours into my plate and took a seat. Then with bated breath (and a wagging tongue) I savoured the first morsels made. Wait for it… still coming… it’s… Hey, where the hell is the sugar in the kheer??!!@#d$^*%#*d The fattest year of my life: Blistering barnacles!!! Thundering typhoons!!! I don’t think Captain Haddock minds my stealing his lines. But neither did the mess

T

7

workers mind my expletives. Within a week the mess degenerated into just another IITB mess. All my first year memories came back to me. And the worst thing was the challan. God damn it… they even raised the price by a grand with no escape button. I tried talking myself into eating in the mess. But things got worse. The canteen didn’t help. Just when I thought I was about to give up on food my phone beeped. It was a message. Now avail Hutch Tuesday offers. Check website or send SMS to 5333 for more details. I did and Dominos came to my rescue. That moment changed my life and pushed me in a few months from L to XL to XXL. What started as an alternative soon turned into a part of my staple diet. I wasn’t on Thoda Khao Thoda Khilao. I was rampaging on Poora Khao Mat Khilao. Just in a matter of weeks I could recall the recipes of any pizza on the menu and also knew all the names of the call centre operators. Some more weeks later the operators started recognizing me even before I gave them my number. This went on for so long that I felt one of them would soon invite me for his marriage. Soon even the competition stepped in: Techfest Thursdays, Garcia’s weekdays and Pizza hut’s festive days. I had a ball… and soon became one too. I tried numerous ways to give up pizzas for good. I crossed my heart every time before a phone call that that would be my last pizza. But yet, some mysterious force kept tugging me back into it. Especially on Tuesdays, I felt that the delivery boy called my room no. every time I heard a pizza parcel announcement. But before I could put myself in more misery, the GSec mentioned that the hostel’s mess was being privatised. This got me so excited that I thought that the new mess would rival H13 in taste and that would put an end to my pizza binge spree. In fact, I talked to everyone concerned and even wrote an article for ‘Insight’ just to make sure. And as H7 was anyway getting a nice private mess, I had my last pizza (err… from every

vendor) and took off home dreaming about good private mess cooked food. The worst year of my life: Me: Abe yaar, ye mess H13 ka mess jaise kyun nahi hain? He-who-must-not-be-named-but-part-of-council: Are...let them settle na. Me: Do maine se settle hi ho raha hain. Cricket khelna bhi shuru kiya hain par khana banana ke liye time chahiye settle hone ki. Kaise fart hain?? He-......il: Toh Mess Comm pe aajana. Yeh crib udhar hi karna. Me: Abe, tu jaata hain na har Comm pe. Toh kamsekam tere ko achcha lag raha hain kya yeh sab. Har hafte mein jo kuch achcha lagta hain woh agla hafte ki menu se nikali jaa raha hain. Raita aur biryani alag alag din serve kar raha hain. Thodi din ke baad dosa aur chutney bhi alag alag din pe serve karega… He-.....il: Abe...if you want to change anything then come to the mess comm. Meetings and crib otherwise just do your thing. Me: Eh....what’s my thing??? Next day: “Room no. 164. Pizza parcel. Room no. 164. Pizza parcel. Come down fast” [The above article is meant only for recreational purposes and for all situations where it might be considered otherwise, it is a work of fiction.]

Sri Teja Room no. 164

8

The Case of the Killer Rat

f you thought that your quizzes and midsems were much of a calamity, think again. What could you come up with? –

Your girlfriend dumping you? ManU losing to Chelsea?

Well, the calamity I am going to describe is that of a killer rat. What? Killer and rat?? How could a harmless little creature like a rat, howsoever annoying it might be, be compared to a killer?

Well it so happened that one morning at around 4 am, the guy B in the next room woke me up. B rushed into my room to warn me of this monstrous creature, a rat who just bit him on the foot and having satisfied his thirst, the bloody creature jumped up the wall and reached my room through the common window. To add to the comedy inherent in this situation, this guy B was dreaming about him being in a jungle playing with lion cubs (he being a sort of Mowgli). The lion cubs were fondly licking his feet in his dream. Suddenly one of them, seemingly offended, thrust his claws into B’s foot. Rattled, B awoke, only to find the same situation, just that it was a rat instead of the lion cub.

And he saw blood – thick, red; blood all over the foot… and now in his eyes. He was baying for this rat’s blood. The rat had to pay up for his act. What followed was mad rush to catch the rat. But the monster was real quick. So after a few futile minutes we gave up.

A dose of tetanus and a few antibiotics later, B was pacified. Convinced that the doctor was lying, the next day, he went for a Rabies shot. So, 1 Rat bite= Rs 2000. A costly night!

In the nights to come, the terror of this rat reigned. Many a time, we had to sleep with the lights on, just to have peaceful sleep. A slight touch with any foreign object and we would immediately wake up thinking it was the rat. :P

To deal with this menace, we let Mortein Rat kill, the James Bond of the Rat world, take over. But this rat was two steps ahead of us. Not a single piece of Mortein (that I so carefully laid) came even close to being eaten. Mighty clever Rat.

Then came another of those chilly nights. Next target, my roommate C got bitten on his hand and was literally petrified. He had had enough. Not that he could do anything about it. Another dose of tetanus and another dose of antibiotics. No Mowgli dreams this time though. It was a rat bite – plain and simple and equally bloody. The incident did teach a thing or two about gravity to this poor fella. In his petrified state, he put his finger under water, pointing downwards, expecting the blood to stop oozing out. But the cut was big – and this poor soul had lost his common sense.

In the meanwhile, the Rat laughed in solitude at the helplessness of the human race. Those who claimed to be the most intelligent were laid out in the open - begging for mercy. But did the humans give up?

To be continued. :D

Shamit Monga

Room 273

I

9

Lady of The Lake (Content of the article may or may not be related to the title)

hilst I was still in school I had imagined that I’d enter college on a cool bike, have a huge bean bag

in my ‘spacious single occupancy room’ onto which I’d crash after classes and put a zillion things that I could think of on download off torrents with downloads going on at 5-10 Mbps off the net. I’d imagined having a comfortable, clean and white porcelain bowl in a sufficiently large, well illuminated room with a strong door and a functional latch, the bowl on which I’d place my ass with no time constraints and release the demon within me. I’d always wanted to be with an elite class of people, each more intellectual and witty than the other. The day I cleared JEE and figured out I’d go to IITB I felt that these dreams would soon start existing in reality.

Indeed, these flawlessly fabricated dreams did enter reality; the bike, the huge room with the bean bag and everything else. But it was time for me to leave reality, I entered IITB. All of a sudden, the Sandman (the guy who aided me with crafting those dreams) seemed to hate me. I enter IIT to find out it’s a university and not a college and there are restrictions on owning and driving motor vehicles. Mom decided to get me a new yet creaky bicycle with no chrome at all, no cylinders, and tires as thin as a cucumber. The hostel (H-4) room I was allotted was decent, just not as I had wanted it to be. It was a double occupancy room, three-fourth the size of my room at home, with a 1 foot gap between the two bed-bug infested cots in the room. This, I was informed, was the largest piece of personal living space an individual was eligible to get that too if he successfully manages to make do with his roommate. I will talk about my second year here which was a major disappointment, a shock, the worst I have experienced in my dull and uneventful life. I was allotted hostel seven, the one with the dingiest rooms ever - with paint peeling of the walls and a gorge in the wall with two shutters for a cupboard. The first words which will and should escape an IITians mouth when he sees

these rooms is “arre, bhenc***!”, and those were precisely the words that slipped outta my mouth when I saw my room for the first time. My room overlooked a seedy pestilence stricken rose garden with crab holes (by holes I mean burrows) and many dead golden crabs. Being attached to the wings common bathroom, the portion of the corridor outside the room is usually wet and the whole place smells of pee.

Toilets are pretty ok, just that 2 for a wing with 20+ sufficiently huge guys, filled with shit till the brim is a bit less. Besides, the toilets are of the sort where you’ve got to make your ass hover over the stained yellow pot rather than comfortably place it on it.

‘A pun is a shift of wit while a fart is a whiff of shit.’ At H7, one wakes up every morning to the not-so-pleasant fragrance of human shit emanating from the polluted pond adjoining the hostel, Powai Lake. Studies revealed that it was amongst the most polluted lakes in the country, though the view from the hostel is pretty.

Mom’s often been pissed with me for the realistic, vivid descriptions that I’d give her of the food we eat. “Mom, I often wonder whether I just disposed it off, mostly effortlessly earlier this morning… Or maybe, the guys from H3 sent us a present because, even though the food looks the same it kind of tastes better today”.

It may be faulty on my part to be so critical of everything, but that’s the way I am. Saying this, I must also acknowledge the fact that our hostel has undoubtedly the best music room possible. The food, compared to mess standards, is adequate and eatable (to say the least). I would definitely like the hostel to arise, awake and show its true potential. All it demands is a channelized effort by the council and the hostel mates.

Anonymous

W

10

Purpose

nother slothful year whizzes past you even before you wake up and realize, "Huh!". Well, I guess that's how college

life generally rolls. Gathering neither moss nor any distinctive characteristics of the time gone by. I mean, it's not every day that you stop running, sit down in retrospection for a moment and think about where you want to take your life to and where exactly it is taking you right now. The momentum of duties, work and responsibilities just carries you along with it in a slow motion, and you slug along...

Yeah, college life isn't as pitiful as THAT. That's for the balding adults to worry about. But then, any college going kid (kid? who am I kidding?) OK, any college going guy/gal, with even an ounce of intelligence and a pinch of ambition, would realize how heavily unproductive he is being to society. Ditch society, he would consider what a waste he is being to himself and his family! And realizing that even with such outrageous independence, he doesn't know how life is rushing past him, that even with so much time to spare, he doesn't ponder over the planning, the reflection or the further course of our inutile lives.

Unproductive?? At least unproductivity points to zero yield. We, on the other hand, are tipping the needle to the negative. We're

wasting a mammoth amount of nation's subsidized educational resources, our parent's hard earned money and our own talents doing nothing but goofing around. This behavior, dear friends, is called parasitic.

I don't mind enjoying life as such. Who does? This would be the last time that we ever have fun. After college, its job, marriage, kids, money and roars of anger from our balding bosses (home or away). But even as we do that, we can put in a little extra effort now, to return the nation something worth our education, right? And I don't mean just your grades, you damned maggus! What I mean is actually doing something objective, something purposeful. Isn't the prevailing attitude of “not doing”- the chief reason why India is still considered a third world country?

I just wish that, for once, we try to wake up and move before time does. Rather! I hope I wake up and move before time does. The one thing I've learnt lately is that it'd be more fruitful for me to help myself to full potential before I help others realize theirs. I guess next winters, I'd be back with something more substantial than a "Huh!".

Ayush Baheti

Room No. 276

A

11

A game-theoretic/genetic view on female exploitation

n evolution, how did the two sexes evolve? There are fungi in which there are gametes, but are not specialized and any

gamete can merge with any other. Geneticists propose that sex selective gametes (egg and sperm), which are observed in most of the species today, evolved from similar cells. Millions of years ago, when there were no sex-selective gametes, some individuals chose to increase the size and nutrition provided by their gametes, in order to increase the chance of survival of its progeny. When these cells prospered, some others in the population decided to cheat. They figured that they could get away with producing smaller gametes, as long as they ensured that their gamete fused with one of the larger cells. To ensure this, they developed higher mobility by providing the gametes with a tail. These individuals also had an advantage since they could produce a larger number of gametes (since each gamete now needs lesser resources), and hence ensure that their genes reach the next generations. The individuals with intermediate size died out, since they enjoyed none of the advantages of these two cells. The larger cell evolved into egg, and the smaller tailed cell into a sperm. Hence male and female sexes evolved. The male cell apparently is a good for nothing slacker, taking advantage of the generosity of the female. And thus begins female exploitation.

Let us come to the present, and consider the individuals of a species in which the sex selection procedure is properly evolved. Once the child is conceived, it must be taken care of. Both the male and female have a vested interest in the survival of the child, since their genes propagate in this way. Hence ideally, they should both help in raising it. However, the female has made a bigger “investment” in the child, since she has produced the egg, which requires larger resources to make. Hence the male might be tempted to run away, leaving the female with the baby in her hand to take care of. She will have to take care of the baby, since she has a lot to lose if the baby does not survive. The female cannot run away, as if she does, the male would

simply do the same, as he would rather go about impregnating more females with his relatively cheap sperm than spending his valuable resources on raising a single child.

To prevent this kind of cheating by a male, a female may choose to ask for an “engagement period” before marriage, during which she would keep an eye on the male and not allow him to copulate. The logic is that if the male is willing to spend a month for her, he would be more likely to take care of the child later too. Let us mathematically analyze the different strategies that can be employed by males and females in order to maximize their gains. First, let us allot some scores to the various factors in the game:

+15: Score for successful birth and full growth of progeny. Positive because the individual's genes are propagated

-20: Penalty for taking care of the child. It is negative because resources are needed to raise the child. This can be shared between the two parents.

-3: Penalty for the engagement period. It is negative, since some time is wasted in this.

Let us also define certain “strategies” which can be adopted by a male or a female. Note that these are not conscious strategies, but inherent behaviour, which is determined by the genes. The individual with the successful behaviour survives, and his genes are passed on to the next generation.

Possible strategies for the male are

Faithful: These males agree to an engagement period, and also take care of the child after conception. Casanova: These males do not agree to the engagement period, nor do they take care of the child. Possible strategies for the female are Coy: She asks for an engagement period. Fast: She does not ask for an engagement period.

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The payoff matrix now looks like this:

Coy Fast

Faithful M:15–10–3 = +2 F: 15–10–3 = +2

M: 15 – 10 = +5 Female: +15 – 10 = +5

Casanova Male: 0 Female: 0

M: +15 Female: +15 – 20 = -5

When all males of a population are faithful and all females coy, they share the work, but waste some time in the engagement period. Hence they both get a score of +2 and live happily ever after. Ah, but there is a catch . Now suppose that just one fast female arises in the population. She does not want an engagement period, hence does not get the -3 for that. Since all males are faithful, they still raise the children, so the -20 is shared. Hence the average payoff for a fast female is +5, instead of the +3 which a coy female gets. Since she is more successful, the number of fast females in the population rises, and after a few generations, all females in the population are fast. So all males are faithful and all females are fast. They both get a payoff of +5, and live happily. But not yet. Suppose now that a Casanova male rises in the population. All females are fast and do not ask for an engagement period. So he copulates, but leaves as soon as the baby is born. He gets +15, but does not pay any penalty. The fact that the poor female is left high and dry is of no consequence to the genes of the male. So in a population of fast females, a Casanova is immensely successful, as he gets a +15 compared to the +5 of the faithful. Hence after a couple of generations, the population consists of Casanovas and fast females. The poor female now gets an average payoff of -5. Now if a coy female arises, she asks for an engagement period, to which none of the male agree. She hence gets an average payoff of 0, which may seem low, but is still better than the -5 which a fast female would get. Hence coy females prosper, and in a few generations, the population has coy females and Casanova males. The cycle is completed when we observe that a faithful male (+2) does better than a Casanova (0) in presence of a large coy population. Hence the

population comes again to be dominated by faithfuls and coys. By the above discussion, it may seem that the population keeps oscillating between the different combinations of male and female strategies. In reality, however, an equilibrium condition is achieved. At equilibrium, no individual can be better off by switching to the rival strategy, because if he could, he would, and then that would be the equilibrium. Let us then calculate the equilibrium.

At equilibrium,

Fraction of faithful males = r

Fraction of Casanova males = 1-r

Fraction of coy females = q

Fraction of fast females = 1-q

Expected payoff for a faithful = Expected payoff for a Casanova

2q + 5 (1 – q) = 0q + 15 (1 – q)

q = 10/12 = 83%

Expected payoff for a coy = Expected payoff for a fast

2r + 0 (1 – r) = 5r + (-5) (1 – r)

r = 5/8 = 62.5%

Hence, at equilibrium population, there are 83% coy females, 17% fast females and 62.5% faithful males, 37.5% Casanova males.

Now let’s look at what the average payoffs are for males and females.

Male = 2q + 5 (1 – q) = 15 (1 – q) = 5/2 = 2.5

Female = 2r = 5r – 5 (1 – r) =5/4 = 1.25

Hence at equilibrium, fast and coy females have equal payoff, and faithful and Casanova males have equal payoff. However there is a built-in asymmetry in the system, in the fact that the average female payoff is less, and significantly less, than the average male payoff.

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I shall not be tempted to draw any moral or ethical conclusion from this discussion. In fact, I never even mentioned human beings in the whole discussion. All I would say however, that as human beings, we have the ability to defy what nature tells us to do. Hence even if nature deals an unfair hand to women, we

can defy nature, and rectify its mistake. And in fact we must defy nature in this regard; otherwise we are no better than animals, the blind servants of nature and Darwinian evolution.

Ravi Bhoraskar Room 139

Namesake

...on the new trend of personalized naming

Disclaimer: The following article is full of nonsensical stuff – the IITian fatte as we like to call it. Not meant for the distressed soul. The author does not take any responsibility for any sightings (or un-sightings, for that matter) of hostelites jumping into the Powai Lake after reading this article. Read at your own risk.

hat’s in a name!”?

Who thinks so? I mean I know Shakespeare said so, but really? I wrote a blog post on this a few weeks ago, which I thought to include here but then for the sake of humanity, I didn’t (I can hear resonating cries of ‘Thank God’s already).

My point is that if name wasn’t so important why the hype behind wing names. Imagine a gaali fight with people screaming, “2nd Block 1st Floor Lake Side ki maa ka ...”

Talking about gaali fights, look at how apt the name “apni wing” is – apt for the wingies that is. No one would be screaming at the top of their lungs “apni wing ki maa ka...”

In fact, there are more serious benefits to the name. The name Apni (or Apne, as per the context) can also be extended to wing treats – Apni Treat, the wingies – Apne log, the wing sweatshirt – Apni sweatshirt and so on. Moreover, the sense of oneness and unity you feel with the name is inexplicable. (Yeah OK, enough already, I know!)

This brings us to point where I tell you how this innovative name came into being. Or it doesn’t actually. Come on! If you really thought I am gonna give it away to you so easily...sorry rahega dost.

P.S: If you still want to read my blog posts (which I assure you have less of fatte but probably more boring) drop me an email at ankurtulsian@gmail.com.

P.P.S: No hate mails please. From next time onwards, take disclaimers seriously (:P)

Ankur Tulsian

Room No. 160

“W

14

Millau Bridge – An Artwork Amidst Clouds

fficially called as “le Viaduc de

Millau”, Millau Bridge is an apt

example of the employment of

modern construction techniques. It is a 2.5

km. long suspension bridge built near the

French town Millau and Creissels. At 300m

(984ft) height, it is also the tallest vehicular

bridge.

Design and Construction:

The idea to be employed here was of pylons,

masts and stays.The seven masts, each 87 m

(290 ft) high and weighing around 700 metric

tons (770 short tons), are set on top of the

pylons. Between each of them, eleven stays

(metal cables) are

anchored, providing

support for the road

deck. The traditional

method of building a

suspension bridge

involves separately

building sections of

the deck and then

positioning them. But

the extreme height

factor involved here

called for an innovative method. Initially the

towers were erected in the usual manner with

steel reinforced concrete. The road(deck)was

then built on either side of the valley and

rolled into position, until it met with precision

in the centre. The method stood the acid test,

inspite of the hazards involved.

By the earlier part of 2002, the masts had

started rising toward the skies. The

earthworks aspect and the concrete work

were completed within time. After the

erection of the piers, the steel deck had to be

rolled on to the piers from both sides

synchronizing their meeting at the centre.

The major scare involved in this

unconventional method of rolling the parts of

the bridge was of impoper meeting in the

centre.But fortunately, the calculations of the

experts hit a bull's eye.

After the rolling, came the task of installing

the masts on the deck. The 90 m high masts

were erected in a very unique manner. They

were first brought onto the deck horizontally

till their point of erection. Then, in a prefectly

co-ordinated swinging motion, the masts

were made vertical just above their ideal

point of anchorage!!!

Mounting the stays(cables) on the masts was

a mammoth task. Each mast would have

eleven pair of stays

such that each pair is

face to face i.e.

diametrically opposite.

Each stay comprised of

45-91 steel cables

depending on their

length and was given

huge amount of

protection from

corrosion. The 1500

tonnes of stretched

cables were coated throughout with a double

helical weatherstrip. All this was done to save

the stays from water. Contact with water, in

high winds, would cause vibrations and jerks

in the stays leading to the instability of the

deck.

In laying the road, a surface of modified

bitumen was laid as it had the flexibility to

cope with the deformations of the steel deck

without cracking. Finally the bridge was

opened for the public on 16 December, 2004,

prior to its estimated opening date of 10

January, 2005. The bridge appears to float on

the clouds despite the fact that it has seven

pillars and a roadway of 1½ miles in length.

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The Viaduct Effect:

There has been an 'economic boom' in Millau

since the opening of the bridge.

The precise blend of the nature and

technology leaves the tourists in a state of

frenzy. On first sight, the impression is of

boats sailing on a sea of mist. The roadway

threads through the seven pillars like thread

through the eye of a needle.The bridge looks

almost an extension of the surrounding

serene nature. Sir Norman Foster, perhaps,

had the same thing in mind when he said, "A

work of man must fuse with nature. The

pillars had to look almost organic, like they

had grown from the earth"

Facts and statistics:

One of the masts of the bridges has a

staggering height of 343 mts. (1125 ft.),

slightly taller than the Eiffel Tower.

It also boasts the highest pylons in the

world, having heights 244.96 mts. and

221.05 mts.

It is the highest road bridge deck in the

world, having a height of 270 mts. above

the Tarn River at its highest point. It is

nearly twice as tall as the previous tallest

vehicular bridge in Europe, the

Europabrucke in Austria.

The total length of the roadway is 2460

mts. (155 miles)

The steel deck weighs 36,000 tonnes which

is 5 times that of the Eiffel Tower.

The Millau Bridge is expected to be

dethroned as the highest by the Chenab

Bridge, Jammu & Kashmir whose

construction was expected to be

completed by December, 2009.

290,000 metric tons.

The bridge won the 2006 IABSE

Outstanding Structure Award.

Jimit Majmudar

Room No 151

16

Editor

Ayush Baheti

Guest Editor

Antariksh Bothale

Special Mention

Nikhil Khandelwal Siddharth Mate

Hostel 7 Thirdie Awards

wards are a great way to motivate people. And motivating people is a noble cause. So, I take

up this responsibility to honour my batchmates from the hostel with a few innovative (read

as cooked up) awards.

Best Secy Award: Manuraj Meena aka. Manu – for working as a sports secy inspite of being

a Co.

Best Co. Award: SP aka. Sattu – for living up to his initials SP (Superintendent of Police) and

terrorizing not only the cult secies of H7 but all the other secies too.

Invisibility Award: GT aka. Gaurav Toshniwal – Yes! He is from H7. Ever seen him here?

Babe of the Batch Award: Arpan Jain – This award is a carryover from the last year when he

flamboyantly exposed his gorgeous waist wearing a ghaghra-choli in our gyrations

performance.

Award for Excellence in Diplomacy: Manan Bohra – The reason is known to the last year's

H7 council and you should hear it from one of them to know it best.

Latest Prospective Affair Award: Shamit Monga – Shhhh!! Dont tell anybody.

Mister H7 (Thirdie) Award: Saransh Mahajan – Based on a sample survey conducted in

Hostel 10. For the others, no offence.

True Ghati Award: Jayesh Kumar - He goes home everyday. You read it right, EVERY DAY!

Devdas Award: Kapil Yadav – He almost did a Devdas after he proposed to a Japanese

waitress on his intern and was turned down. For the name and photograph of this Japanese

Paro, contact Kapil.

People who think they or some of their friends have not got their deserved awards, can send their recommendation to me for the next issue by mail.

Mehul Jain Room 203

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