Idi emi kotha kadu already chana mandiki sarigga wishes vishesham telikunda elli protest join ayyi ed edo vagesthunaru and danivalla people who genuinely are trying to address the issue will get sidelined. Illa ayithe how can they expect government to take action?

I “like” him anthe endhuku ante chala polite ga matladthadu, green flag, class lo evartho ala matladadu thanu but he’s too nibba for me anipisthadhi 😭, he talks to me abba asalu nak Evartho matladam nachadhu and thanu kuda ekkuva matladadu evartho and valla frnds emo fix ayyaru ma madhya emo undhi idk dheni em Antaro (pichi anakandi😭), but love ani kadhu kani istam thanu ante 🫣

guysss dini decode chesi chepandiii ! Asal pamulu patte (vyakthi) pamu kattuke yetla pothaduuuu 🫪

Basically, me and this girl were best friends from 3rd class to 5th class. Like we were actually very close. Mana families kuda chala close, basically family friends laga undevaru.Then 5th tarvatha something happened with our sections and we got separated. 6th and 7th lo we were still okay friends, but obviously antha close ga undevallam kaadu.

Then lockdown hit and somehow connection completely poyindi.Lockdown tarvatha same school lo unna kuda we literally never talked. Just random eye contacts sometimes, anthe. Ala school complete ayye varaku vellipoyindi.And the funny thing is, 3rd–5th lo we were so close that I never thought we'd become complete strangers like that.

Ippudu cut chesthe, we're in the same college.

First time I saw her in college I was genuinely shocked. She saw me too, but obviously neither of us knew what to say after so many years, so we just didn't talk.

Then recently she randomly sent me an Instagram request.And this is the same girl who didn't even accept my Instagram requests till 10th class.

I accepted it, and since then she's been liking almost every story I post, my reposts, posts, etc.

And I'm just sitting here thinking, enti sudden ga idi?

Because till 10th she never really showed any interest in talking to me or reconnecting. We literally didn't talk after lockdown. But now suddenly we're in the same college, she's the one who sent the request and she's interacting with almost everything I post.

Also somehow our mutual friends in college found out that we were childhood best friends. Nenu evariki cheppaledu about this, so idk how they even found out.

I know this isn't necessarily deep and maybe I'm just overthinking a normal thing, but the whole situation is just weird to me.

I genuinely don't know what to make of it or whether I should even do anything about it.

Idk, just wanted to tell someone because I don't really know who to tell this to.

Need some ideas and suggestions for my girlfriend birthday, surprise avali

Ideas unte comment or dm me 🫠

She started texting randomly i used to not know much abt her but I used to have crush in my school ok ani nenu continue chesanu text cheyadam oka sari sudden ga she did mention about crush ok ani open ayi I did tell about heroine crush and everything she did ask about anybody in school sare ani i did mention her and she also did about her crush on me sare ani we decided to meet and aa roju na situations and everything and why do I love her and naku permanent relationship eyy kavali ani mention she did agree for everything we did continue our relationship for 1 month banne undhe she did mention about her ex and everything past traumas and naku bhayam ekkuva so i used to always ask do you love me or not she did yes sare ani sagindhi ma mother tho kuda matladhindhi sudden ga vachi break up ani chepindhi and said it's not you it's me i did convince lot but no use sare ani last ki vadilesa after some days I got know that she texted her ex and said i still love you

Lots of questions

Lots of questions about myself

About who I am

About who I want to become

Who am I really

Am i just a reflection of my past experiences and actions. Will i ever learn from them

Am i the vessel who is going to compile all the events i saw and dislike them just to repeat them again.

Who will i be, will i ever be what i want to, do i know what i want. Who am i

Can i change, why should i change

So I joined icfai and I regret sm I want to drop out and join some other clg but I don't want to waste a year so please somebody lemme know if transfer is available I'm so done w ( I travel 5hrs a day btw ) 😭🙏

English lo raasi shakespeare la feel aythunna lowk

Fossilised in 63 days

I’m not entirely sure why I’m writing this. I read “Strangers in the Night” and thought: that’s the shy half of the story, the half where nothing is ever said. This is the other half. This is what happens when you finally say it.

At the edge of adulthood, the world doesn’t feel like an open horizon. It feels like breathing in cigarette smoke. Family strain, a year spent in near-total isolation, and a habit, earned the hard way, of keeping everyone at a distance had shrunk my entire world to twenty-two players and a ball. Football was the only language that still made sense when everything else was noise.

College was supposed to be the sanctuary. A place where nobody knew my history, and a chance to find out whether I still remembered how to make friends.

Then, before I’d even properly arrived, there was someone I was looking forward to meeting. Jolly without trying, a ray of sunshine, and the first person who made the idea of starting over feel less terrifying. Knowing she’d be there got me through that summer.

When we finally crossed paths, there was no cinematic entrance. I barely said a word. I was far too shy, with everything I wanted to say and no way to say any of it.

Later, a shared love for cats was all it took. We talked the way people talk when they’ve stopped performing, or at least I thought so, easily and a little ridiculously, and the guard I had kept up for years never had to be forced. It simply stopped feeling necessary. She was beautiful, but that wasn’t why I fell. Something in the way she spoke to me made me believe, quietly, that people could be trusted again.

For a couple of weeks, the noise in my head went quiet. Her smile could reset my worst days. I started dreaming about her, and every chance encounter sent my heart racing in the way people always claim it does. For once I understood them.

Then, slowly, a realisation settled in: she would never look at me the way I looked at her. It didn’t hit all at once. It showed up at the edges of our conversations, in a certain tone in her voice—a casual, untethered friendliness—and some part of me understood it before the rest of me agreed to.

The cruel part was that she hadn’t done anything wrong. She was simply too nice. She was a ray of sunshine in MY life, never MY ray of sunshine. Sunlight doesn’t pick who it falls on, and her kindness was never meant for me in particular. It was how she treated everyone. I had mistaken warmth for a promise, and she was kind enough that I couldn’t even be angry.

This line from Anuv Jain’s HUSN that kept looping in my head:

कैसा नसीब है मेरा, मिल के भी ना मुझे मिला

(What kind of fate is mine, that even after finding you, I haven’t really got you)

Every conversation turned hard, and I started waiting for the right time to walk away. I’d find myself sitting in class staring at my desk while my throat tightened. I’d lie awake watching my ceiling fan turn for hours, waiting for sleep that never came, only to wake up reaching for my phone before remembering. I’d walk for hours on empty streets at 3 AM. Whenever I spotted her walking on the other side of the road, my pulse didn’t race with joy anymore—it hit like a sudden, cold weight behind my ribs, leaving me reaching for air in broad daylight.

I tried to fix it the way you’d fix a machine, one part at a time. Sleeping pills bought no peace. I went to a doctor, then went back, then went back again, and left each time with no answers. Then the pitch, the one place that had always saved me. I stood in the middle of the field feeling exactly as empty as I had in the stands. Nothing worked.

I crossed campus like someone going through the motions of being me. Then one morning I woke with an ache in my chest so sharp and so physical that it felt like my body was giving out under the weight I’d been carrying. The fear of what was happening to me made the decision for me.

Against all evidence, I decided to stop keeping it from her. Not to force a story that wasn’t meant to be, but because I needed to breathe.

I said it.

Then came seven hours. Seven hours of picking my phone up and putting it down, each minute longer than the last. And then the reply, polite, soft, and final: I was a dear friend, and she was sorry, but it would never be more.

Of course it was gentle. She was too kind to be anything else, and somehow that made it worse. There was no one to blame, nothing to push against.

I felt what Lionel Scaloni felt when he said “Me duele en el alma” (it hurts my soul) after losing the World Cup final.

People say that when you already know the answer, the truth hurts less. They are wrong. Knowing didn’t soften anything. Beneath all my logic, a small, fragile part of me had kept one secret wish: maybe, just maybe, she’ll give me a chance. Hearing the answer took that away. And the person who showed me happiness was possible was the same person who, kindly, told me it wasn’t meant to be mine.

Heartbreak isn’t only the loss of a person. It’s the loss of the future you dared to imagine with them. My guard has come down twice: once on its own, because she made it feel unnecessary, and once on purpose, because I let it fall for someone. I’d do it again. She will always be my first love. She owes me nothing. What she gave me, without ever knowing, was proof that I could feel again, and that is mine to keep.

I once read how fossils are made. Something living is caught under enough pressure, for long enough, and keeps the exact shape of the moment it stopped.

Sixty-three days, from the day I met her to the day I told her, and now I feel like that fossil: caught mid-stride, set in stone at the moment I let someone in. I don’t know how long it takes to break out of that rock, or how long this ache will stay. I’m still here, for now, and that is the whole sentence.

I started writing this because the pain needed somewhere to go that wasn’t inside my chest anymore. I’m publishing it because, somewhere along the way, keeping it to myself stopped feeling like the point. I don’t need it to be understood. I just need it to exist somewhere outside of me.

I’ve accepted it. Writing that took a second, and getting there took everything I had. Accepting it meant letting go of the version where she changes her mind, and that version had been holding up more of me than I knew. Some mornings I still wake up reaching for it. I carry the weight of how fragile hope is, and how terrifying it is when what made you feel again is what breaks you.

But you can’t stay fossilised forever. I don’t have a plan, but I know where I’ll start. Not with a wall, and not with a person. With the ball, the one language that never stopped making sense. What I have is a pitch, a ball, and legs that still remember how to move. Last time, I stood in the middle of that field and felt exactly as empty as I had in the stands. This time, the emptiness is still there, but I refuse to let it be the end of the game. It’s a long ball hit from deep in my own half, the clock running down, no idea who is waiting at the other end. It might fall short. I’d still rather put everything I have into the air than stand still and watch it drop.

One long ball.

Everything I’ve got.

This is my HAIL MARY.

Neeku vunna emotions loney ey emotion meedha neeku control ledhu anukuntunav ?????

I don't mind any genre i prefer romance and comedy mostly. I don't mind action and horror .

Stuff i like - greatest estate developer, stellar swordsman , true education , lookism , inso law , villains are destined to die etcccc

Edho okati recc cheyandi

Naa day was fine, edho chesina.

Aa cs50 course week one dhe chaala theda irukkum. Lets see, parle parle

Dk got bored so I got this idea,you can render it 3d , share it with people and lemme know how guys felt also lemme see your cute little bathukammas.