22 yards and Beyond

A Leap of faith

The man looked up from the pile of files on his table, the tired lines on his face creating a mosaic, like lines drawn on the sand with a shaking finger, almost like deep battle scars. He sipped his tea from the old glass kept on a rather dirty yellow file as he looked up at the clock, it was still about an hour to lunch.

The phone beeped for the umpteenth time on his desk, he turned it screen-side down. He knew what it was, one of his friends wishing him happy birthday with probably an overused WhatsApp forward.

Yes, it was his birthday today, 7th July, but the stuffy cabin of the Station Master at Kharagpur railway station with its faulty air conditioner was far way from any signs of birthday cheer as was the man sitting in it.

The clock struck twelve, the man got up from admist his pile of files, as he dragged himself out to get some fresh air, why couldn't they fix the damn AC, he thought cursing the everyone from the railway administration to the electrician, he shaked his head trying to ground himself.

"Virat hit the perfect cover drive, that bat swing, just golden" the TV blared in the canteen, he paused, he stared, his fist clenched, his shoulders drooped. "Happy Birthday Dada" one of his junior TC's shouted as he noticed, he walked out without replying roughly pushing past another very startled clerk.

He walked aimlessly around the platform before getting back into his cabin with a sandwich from one of those train vendors. He tried not think the same thing that he had thought so often for years, "It could have been different."

He rang the bell of his old English style, slightly dilapidated looking railway quarter with a tired hand, it had been a rather long day.

He heard little footsteps running through the house, accompanied by the faint trace of an excited giggle and the door opened.

He was greeted by what in his opinion was a smile that could cure every heartache in the world, as tiny hands wrapped around his waist, "Happy Birthday Papa." He cuddled her as he walked in, passing a wry smile to his mother as he handed the bag full of vegetables and daily necessities to his wife. He bounced his daughter a little more on his hip before heading to the washroom to freshen up.

He took a long bath and then trudged back into the drawing room as his wife finished lighting the candles on the cake. He blew the candles to humor his daughter as his family stood around and clapped, celebrating him moving one year closer to death.

His mom ruffled his hair, his dad patted his back, they were happy he could see.

His father almost beamed at him, son of a pump operator, he had climbed the social ranks to a station master, he was proud.

The kind of pride that would probably have made any sons struggle worth it, would have been the greatest accolade, but to him, it felt like a whip lash across his entire miserable existence.

That smile, he had killed his dreams to preserve that smile, now it seemed to pierce him like a thousand pins on the skin. He didn't want to blame him for anything, he didnt blame anyone but himself.

The house felt quite as the night grew, his wife went to bed after putting their daughter to sleep, and a half-hearted attempt to get him to the room. She had stopped trying long back, she knew it was better to leave him alone tonight.

He opened a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass, and downed it in one go. Every year on this day he felt like the biggest failure in the world, well on most other days too but on this day its worse. He felt like wishing that he hadn't ever been born into this miserable life.

Why? Why couldn't he believe a bit more on himself? Why couldn't he ditch the job security for something he wanted to do, for the 22 yards, for the green grass and dust tracks, for the place where once upon a time he felt so at home.

Was it just to keep his fathers smile intact or deep down was it just lack of self belief?

Sometimes he tried to imagine what his life would have looked like if he had taken that leap of faith that day, would it be better?

Would it be worse?

He didnt know, but he knew one thing, anything would be better that this burning regret. He downed glass after glass, his phone had started to beep again, continuously, louder and louder, he rammed the glass on the floor shattering it into several pieces as the sound of breaking glass echoed inn the house...

And MS Dhoni woke up with a start in a rather lavish looking room, sweating even with the air conditioner running on full blast. He looked around confused, in the dimly lit room, on the wall was huge picture of team India lifting the world up and there he was, in there with them, with happy tears and genuine happy smile. It was.....a nightmare?

He suddenly felt tiny hands wrapping around his waist from beside him, "Happy Birthday Papa." "Happy birthday Mahi" Sakshi leaned on his from the other side. "Thanks" he replied with relief.

His phone blared again.

"Baat Karoo nahi tho sari rat call karate rahenge" Sakshi laughed as she left the room only to come back dragging a huge bag.

"What's that?" MS asked with his eyes wide

"They have been arriving by post all week" Sakshi replied as she heaved the bag up on the bed "From your kids and I had to hide them."

Mahi laughed. The phone blared.

"Pick it up" Sakshi urged.

Mahi picked up the call, 'Happy Birthdaaaaaaaaay bhaaaaaaaiiiii" came the uncoordinated sing song of his kids.

"Thanks kiddos" he said feeling irrationally overwhelmed, like he was the luckiest person in the world.

"Gift kholo...kholo kholo kholo" Rishu bounced excitedly.

"Bhaiiiiii" Cheeku said "Is bar apse liye test hai"

"Haa" Ro continued "You have to guess kaunsa gift kisne diya hai. Each gift is connected with a memory of us with you."

"Achha bachchu" Mahi said "Chalo dekhte hain fir"

And he started opening the gifts, eyes misting over as he opened a little scrapbook of his achievements from Rishu, who had compiled it when he was young; a little action figure hitting helicopter shot from Hardik; a golden ball, that opened to reveal a team pic with Mahi from his last match as captain from Cheeku and so on...

Mahi guessed and laughed and kept stealing glances at the photo on the wall, breathing in the moment, his leap of faith had paid off, in the best way posssible, he today had all what he had dreamed of.

And he had even more than anyone could wish for, how many captains in the world could claim his team called him at 12:00 am to wish happy birthday and sent you a cart load of gift that you opened as they shouted like kindergarteners.

MS Dhoni had never been more glad that he had made the riskier choice one fateful day in Kharagpur, for his leap of faith, faith that he showed on himself.

A/N: It's a bit different from what I have written before, I was watching "MS Dhoni- The untold story"  and this idea started playing in my head. What MS had done was a very brave decision coming from a middle class household. It's just play on "What if...."