The Equation of Us: Surviving Engineering with Two Constants
They say engineering is about solving complex problems, mastering thermodynamics, and debugging code that refuses to run. But if I look back at those four years, the only variables that really mattered were the people I was solving those problems with. specifically, two of them.
Let’s call them Maya and Priya.
If my college life was a circuit board, I was the resistor trying to hold back the flow of chaos, Maya was the reliable power source, and Priya? Priya was the short circuit that made sparks fly when you least expected it.
The Trio Formed in the Back Benches
We didn't meet in a library or during a profound academic discussion. We met over a shared hatred for 8:00 AM Engineering Mechanics. I was half-asleep, Maya was frantically highlighting a textbook that looked brand new, and Priya was eating a vada pav she’d smuggled in under her dupatta.
"Do you have a pen?" Maya asked me, panicked. "Do you want a bite?" Priya offered simultaneously, holding out the spicy potato fritter.
And that was it. The contract was signed.
The Dynamics of "Group Study"
Our "group study" sessions were legendary, mostly for how little studying actually happened.
Maya was the Anchor. She was the one who actually knew what the syllabus was. She had color-coded notes, she knew the professor's mood swings, and she was the only reason I passed "Signals and Systems."
Maya: "Guys, we have 14 chapters to cover in 12 hours. If we allocate 45 minutes per chapter..."
Me: "I can't feel my brain."
Priya: "Let's order pizza. I can't study on an empty stomach. Also, have you guys seen this reel?"
Priya was the Spark. While Maya optimized our grades, Priya optimized our memories. She was the one dragging us to the canteen when we should have been in the lab. She was the one who convinced us that sneaking onto the hostel roof to watch the stars was more important than sleeping before the viva.
The Project Nightmare
Nothing tests a friendship like the Final Year Project. We were building an automated something-or-other (I still don't fully understand what it did).
There was a night, three days before submission. The code was broken. The hardware was overheating. Maya was on the verge of tears, aggressively typing on her laptop. I was staring at a soldering iron like it was an alien artifact.
Then Priya stood up, unplugged the entire main power strip, and the room went black.
"PRIYA!" Maya screamed.
"We need a reset," Priya said calmly in the dark. "And we need chai."
We sat on the floor of that dusty lab, drinking lukewarm tea from a flask, laughing hysterically at our own misery. When we plugged it back in an hour later, the code worked. I still think it was magic, or maybe just the fear of Priya unplugging it again.
The Farewell
The problem with engineering is that it feels like it will last forever, until suddenly, it's over.
On the last day, sitting on the steps of the admin block, the weight of the moment hit us. We weren't just leaving behind submissions and exams. We were leaving behind the ecosystem we built.
I looked at Maya, who was already planning her Master's application, and Priya, who was planning a road trip she hadn't told her parents about yet.
"We're going to be okay, right?" I asked.
Maya fixed her glasses. "Statistically, friendships formed in high-stress environments have a higher retention rate."
Priya punched my arm. "Idiot. You're stuck with us."
The Aftermath
Years later, the formulas have faded. I don't use Laplace transforms in my daily life. But I use what they taught me every day.
Maya taught me that preparation matters, that showing up is half the battle. Priya taught me that sometimes, you need to break the rules to fix the system. And together, they taught me that the best engineering marvel isn't a bridge or a machine—it's the bridge you build between people who keep you sane when the world is falling apart.
Here’s to the girls who made the lectures bearable and the memories permanent.