u/a_traumatic_soul174

Is it common to lose marks in record correction 😭😞

This one lab mam cuts marks for everything like this is not there , even manual also has marks !!

Is it my dumb college or same everywhere

Please explain

I wanted to ask which textbook is best for 1st sem ( my college is associated to vtu but autonomous)

Physics (publication and author)

Mathematics ( p and a)

Mct(p and a)

Bee( p and a

Hate the benches tbh ..! Can't sit properly neither in class nor in the auditorium.

Can't even use the elevator. Need to walk 4 floors

No place to eat in canteen always rush

I'm going to transfer ig in 2nd year

Hii everyone

Guys why so low admissions for cse in bnmit

Anyone who have been added to group

Did I take wrong decision

How many of you have joined colleges , going

R3 people

(ONLY FOR T3)

How many of you are feeling kinda jealous and regretful of not getting rvce, msrit, pesu dsce bit, bmse.

PLEASE DON'T BE HARSH ON EACH OTHER

Guys how can we survive in such job market

Ik placements in rvce, msrit, pesu , dsce , bit are sorted

What about us who got above 10k rank. It doesn't mean we are weak in studies but how are we going to manage stuffs . What are your thoughts 💭💭

Please comment

Btw my rank is 14k gm( didn't get those colleges)

How many of you are feeling regret mann I just joined college it costed me 1.5l mfd

The hostel guys must be

I come from middle class family, mostly have been on scholarships , it sucks Edit: tell me about fee guys my problem is ok . Talk about yours. How are you managing fee

​

She had always been a strong-headed girl.

She was born into a family that was strict, traditional, and well known. They cared a lot about what people thought of them, but somewhere between all those rules, they gave her one thing that changed her completely—education.

Till she finished her twelfth, books gave her a world bigger than the one she lived in. Education made her confident. It made her question things. Most importantly, it made her believe that she could build a life of her own.

She wanted to study further. She wanted a career. She wanted to be able to stand on her own feet.

Her family didn't agree.

They told her that she had studied enough.

And before she could fight them any further, they got her married.

He was a good man.

Educated, soft-spoken, ambitious. He came from a well-established family and was himself pursuing his postgraduate studies. The only problem was that his family had a very different idea of how a woman should live.

She entered his house knowing that she hadn't chosen this marriage.

And he knew it too.

In the beginning, they weren't husband and wife in the way people imagined. They were two strangers trying to become comfortable around each other.

Then they became friends.

He was patient with her. He never forced affection out of her. He noticed how unhappy she was about leaving her studies behind, and slowly, he started helping her.

When his family objected to her continuing her education, he fought with them.

When they told him that she should concentrate on the household, he disagreed.

He helped her get back to her studies.

He wanted her to become independent.

And somewhere along the way, without telling her, he fell in love with her.

She never noticed.

Or perhaps she did, but didn't know what to call it.

She still didn't think she loved him. She simply knew that he had become the person she trusted most.

Eventually, he got a good job in a company.

Life became calmer.

She was studying again. He was building his career. They had slowly found a strange kind of companionship in the marriage neither of them had originally wanted.

Then there was a girl at his workplace.

She was fond of him.

At first, it was harmless. They spoke often because of work, and she liked being around him. Over time, she began to understand her own feelings.

She liked him.

A lot.

He never encouraged her, but he also hadn't told her much about his personal life. His marriage wasn't something he spoke about at work. Perhaps because the marriage itself had begun so differently. Perhaps because he didn't want his wife to be introduced as someone's wife when she had spent so much of her life trying to become her own person.

The girl didn't know.

One evening, his wife was with him when his phone rang.

It was the girl.

He didn't answer.

It rang again.

And again.

He finally put the phone aside.

Later, when he was away, the phone rang once more.

His wife answered.

She expected a work call.

Instead, she heard a girl's voice.

“Why aren't you attending my calls?”

There was a small pause.

“I wanted to tell you something. I love you so much. And I know you like me too. Please don't keep ignoring me.”

His wife froze.

The girl continued, her voice nervous now.

“Just give me one chance. I—”

The call ended.

His wife had cut it.

She stood there holding the phone, completely still.

She didn't wait for him to come back.

She didn't ask who the girl was.

She didn't ask whether he loved her.

She didn't ask whether he had ever encouraged her.

For the first time, all the years she had spent fighting to make her own decisions worked against her.

She decided.

If another woman could confidently tell her husband that she loved him, then what exactly had he been telling her?

And why didn't that girl know he was married?

She remembered all the times he had fought for her freedom.

Suddenly, those memories hurt.

Maybe she had misunderstood everything.

Maybe he had never really loved her.

Maybe their marriage had only been an obligation to him, just as it had been to her.

She went to her room and packed her things.

She had already received an opportunity abroad. A chance to continue building the life she had always wanted.

She accepted it.

Then she placed the divorce papers on the corner of the table.

Beside them, she left a small note.

And she left.

When he came home, he found the papers.

He didn't understand.

He tried calling her.

She didn't answer.

He had no idea about the call.

He didn't know that his wife had heard another woman confess her love to him.

And she didn't know that the moment he learned about the confession, he had rejected the girl completely.

By then, she was already gone.

Years passed.

She built the life she had once dreamed about.

She studied.

She worked.

She became independent.

She achieved everything she had fought for.

But as she grew older, she began to understand something she hadn't understood when she was young.

She had spent so much of her life afraid of losing her independence that she had forgotten something simple.

Loving someone didn't mean belonging to them.

And he had never asked her to belong to him.

He had been the one who fought for her freedom.

The one who wanted her to study.

The one who wanted her to stand on her own.

She had not needed to choose between him and the life she wanted.

She could have had both.

Her greatest regret wasn't leaving.

It was that she had never asked him one question.

She never gave him the chance to explain.

She died carrying that regret.

He lived with hers.

He never remarried.

Not because he couldn't move on, but because some people remain important long after they stop being present in your life.

He remembered the stubborn girl he had married.

The girl who never wanted anyone to stand in front of her.

The girl he had loved enough to stand beside.

And perhaps that was the cruelest part of their story.

Neither of them had betrayed the other.

Neither had stopped caring.

They had simply misunderstood each other at the one moment when they needed to understand each other most.

They were both loyal.

They just weren't perfectly timed.

​

She had always been a strong-headed girl.

She was born into a family that was strict, traditional, and well known. They cared a lot about what people thought of them, but somewhere between all those rules, they gave her one thing that changed her completely—education.

Till she finished her twelfth, books gave her a world bigger than the one she lived in. Education made her confident. It made her question things. Most importantly, it made her believe that she could build a life of her own.

She wanted to study further. She wanted a career. She wanted to be able to stand on her own feet.

Her family didn't agree.

They told her that she had studied enough.

And before she could fight them any further, they got her married.

He was a good man.

Educated, soft-spoken, ambitious. He came from a well-established family and was himself pursuing his postgraduate studies. The only problem was that his family had a very different idea of how a woman should live.

She entered his house knowing that she hadn't chosen this marriage.

And he knew it too.

In the beginning, they weren't husband and wife in the way people imagined. They were two strangers trying to become comfortable around each other.

Then they became friends.

He was patient with her. He never forced affection out of her. He noticed how unhappy she was about leaving her studies behind, and slowly, he started helping her.

When his family objected to her continuing her education, he fought with them.

When they told him that she should concentrate on the household, he disagreed.

He helped her get back to her studies.

He wanted her to become independent.

And somewhere along the way, without telling her, he fell in love with her.

She never noticed.

Or perhaps she did, but didn't know what to call it.

She still didn't think she loved him. She simply knew that he had become the person she trusted most.

Eventually, he got a good job in a company.

Life became calmer.

She was studying again. He was building his career. They had slowly found a strange kind of companionship in the marriage neither of them had originally wanted.

Then there was a girl at his workplace.

She was fond of him.

At first, it was harmless. They spoke often because of work, and she liked being around him. Over time, she began to understand her own feelings.

She liked him.

A lot.

He never encouraged her, but he also hadn't told her much about his personal life. His marriage wasn't something he spoke about at work. Perhaps because the marriage itself had begun so differently. Perhaps because he didn't want his wife to be introduced as someone's wife when she had spent so much of her life trying to become her own person.

The girl didn't know.

One evening, his wife was with him when his phone rang.

It was the girl.

He didn't answer.

It rang again.

And again.

He finally put the phone aside.

Later, when he was away, the phone rang once more.

His wife answered.

She expected a work call.

Instead, she heard a girl's voice.

“Why aren't you attending my calls?”

There was a small pause.

“I wanted to tell you something. I love you so much. And I know you like me too. Please don't keep ignoring me.”

His wife froze.

The girl continued, her voice nervous now.

“Just give me one chance. I—”

The call ended.

His wife had cut it.

She stood there holding the phone, completely still.

She didn't wait for him to come back.

She didn't ask who the girl was.

She didn't ask whether he loved her.

She didn't ask whether he had ever encouraged her.

For the first time, all the years she had spent fighting to make her own decisions worked against her.

She decided.

If another woman could confidently tell her husband that she loved him, then what exactly had he been telling her?

And why didn't that girl know he was married?

She remembered all the times he had fought for her freedom.

Suddenly, those memories hurt.

Maybe she had misunderstood everything.

Maybe he had never really loved her.

Maybe their marriage had only been an obligation to him, just as it had been to her.

She went to her room and packed her things.

She had already received an opportunity abroad. A chance to continue building the life she had always wanted.

She accepted it.

Then she placed the divorce papers on the corner of the table.

Beside them, she left a small note.

And she left.

When he came home, he found the papers.

He didn't understand.

He tried calling her.

She didn't answer.

He had no idea about the call.

He didn't know that his wife had heard another woman confess her love to him.

And she didn't know that the moment he learned about the confession, he had rejected the girl completely.

By then, she was already gone.

Years passed.

She built the life she had once dreamed about.

She studied.

She worked.

She became independent.

She achieved everything she had fought for.

But as she grew older, she began to understand something she hadn't understood when she was young.

She had spent so much of her life afraid of losing her independence that she had forgotten something simple.

Loving someone didn't mean belonging to them.

And he had never asked her to belong to him.

He had been the one who fought for her freedom.

The one who wanted her to study.

The one who wanted her to stand on her own.

She had not needed to choose between him and the life she wanted.

She could have had both.

Her greatest regret wasn't leaving.

It was that she had never asked him one question.

She never gave him the chance to explain.

She died carrying that regret.

He lived with hers.

He never remarried.

Not because he couldn't move on, but because some people remain important long after they stop being present in your life.

He remembered the stubborn girl he had married.

The girl who never wanted anyone to stand in front of her.

The girl he had loved enough to stand beside.

And perhaps that was the cruelest part of their story.

Neither of them had betrayed the other.

Neither had stopped caring.

They had simply misunderstood each other at the one moment when they needed to understand each other most.

They were both loyal.

They just weren't perfectly timed.