MS Dhoni and the useless one shots I like to come up with

Swear Jar

Sourav was muttering to himself in Bengali watching the match go down the way it was going. They were playing South Africa in Kanpur and this was their third match, Mahi's first as a Test captain. Why was Sourav muttering to himself again? Oh well, the reason was simple, unlike most pitches in India, this particular pitch had decided to be a bit of pain in the ass for their own batsmen. Only he and VVS had crossed half centuries, and only them and Jammy had been able to hold on for more than hundred balls. Sure they had restricted South Africa to a low score in their first inning, but the Proteas could never be trusted to not butcher the opposition, in this case them. Ideally? Sourav wanted an above 400 score, sure Mahi was the captain and as usual had not asked much from them till now but just from the kind of opposition they were facing, no total was too big. Ideally, since all the batsmen except him had collapsed, he wanted to take it on his shoulders to drag the score to 300 atleast. What had he ended up doing instead? Playing a loose shot straight into a fielder's mouth, short of his century and short of a score that would give them an edge. He cursed the pitch curators in his next breath, where was their home advantage?

Over the years he had developed a habit of cursing in a plain tone in Bengali only because nobody except a few could understand what he was saying. When he had first started inducting youngsters into the team he had quickly realised that having a bunch of young Indian men live for months at a time together, most of them hot blooded, meant that language took a serious hit, he was sure his ears had actually bled at one point, John who had begun to understand hindi quite a bit by that point had in horror turned to him and said he needs to get baptisized again after hearing all that. He was the captain then, he had to get things a bit under control. He wasn't expecting them to hold their tongues but just a little decorum you know?

So he had introduced a rule, no more than five curses in an hour or they had to put money in the swear jar. Which sounded doable but Bhajji actually nearly sobbed asking him to increase the number. Unlike Rahul who would say 'Language' and then continue fluently cursing in English, and Sachin who would put money in the swear jar specially to curse at something, he was the captain. He had to lead with example. So he religiously cut out his curse words for most part, opting to ambiguously mutter them in Bengali when he needed to get it out of him. Rahul called him out on his bullshit, Sachin would smirk every single time, but the boys genuinely thought he was praying since he was quite religious.

He watched as their tailenders Ishant and Sree play with fire and let any and all shots they had out. That was their job after all, and truth be told they were doing a marvelous job having somehow managed to get them over the 300 line. Ofcourse as soon as he thought this Sreesanth nearly edged one straight to the slip. Sourav inhaled sharply as the ball brushed past the fielder's fingers for a four and let out a very very questionnable word in the deadest of tone he could manage. Mahi was sitting beside him watching the proceedings, only his complete stillness betraying how focussed he was on the match. Because otherwise you really couldn't expect him to sit so still doing nothing and be okay with it, he always had to be doing something all the time. Sachin was on his other side, too wrapped up in his head to react to Sourav's supposed prayers.

"Well," he clapped Mahi's back, done with his round of cursing, "We will be fine if they just manage to do that for another 30-40 runs

Mahi hmmed, his eyes having that laser focus as he dissected the game, it was admirable, a bit like Jam, a bit like him, a bit like Sach; that was MS in his focussed zone. Sourav could almost hear his gears turning, that sharp brain mapping a hundred possibilities that may never happen but MS was prepared for it. It was like a switch going off, he would be Mahi one minute and MS the next. Sourav couldn't quite explain it but he wondered if he used to be the same. Then just as smoothly as the switch had flicked on, it flicked off and Mahi turned to him a lazy smile on his face.

"Nah, we don't need more to be in control, even if a wicket falls,".

Sourav smiled at his confidence, it was refreshing to be on the other end of captaincy, "If you think so,".

Now he got shy, realising perhaps the leader stance he had just taken with his Dada. Sourav shook his head amused as Mahi scratched the back of his head and tried to act nonchalant, even though he was most definitely blushing hard. No captaincy was ever going to change how strange and adorable this kid was. Meanwhile Ishant played one right into the fielder's hand only for it to be a no ball. Sourav snorted shaking his head, he could almost feel sorry for the visitors. The tailenders continued their comical rampage.

"It is like watching all engines fail but somehow the plane isn't crashing," Mahi cackled in delight making both the seniors join in with equally pleased grins

"You might just have some extra luck captain," he teased.

Mahi rolled his eyes but smiled turning to stare at the scores as the over ended. The zone, as Sourav was starting to call it, had flicked on again. He probably shouldn't disturb it but he couldn't help ruffle his hair, proud of the man his boy had become. Predictably, MS didn't have much of a reaction now though he didn't protest it like he usually does. They turned their attention back to the field. If they could just last an hour more, Sourav thought wishfully, just until lunch. He bit his tongue as Sree immediately drove one right into a fielder's hands.

"Stop wishing for things dumbfuck," he cursed at himself switching back to his mother tongue, everything he was wishing for, he was getting the exact opposite. Wanting a century? Well how about get out at 87. Want to drag the score to 400? How does getting out before even 300 sound to you? "Not my day" he consoled himself, and sighed getting up to walk back into the dressing room. He wanted to have a cup of tea before standing in the sun for the next sixty overs.

Mahi started to walk out too, leading the way, but paused suddenly. Sourav and Sachin, looked at him confused. He leaned towards them and said, "By the way Dada, it is your day only, you know that right?"

Before Sourav could react, frozen as he was, he was gone. His jaw dropped in horror. Mahi knew Bengali?

"You can understand me?" he shrieked still rooted to his spot.

No reply came through but it wasn't needed, Sourav was already on the floor, trying to get the ground to swallow him whole. Some of his beautiful vocabulary were very much not meant for anyone's ears save Sachin, he had gotten very creative, even Bhajji would have trouble keeping up.

"Oh this is gold," Sachin keeled over laughing while Sourav let out a mortified sob.

One by one the boys would start to peek out wondering why the Master Blaster was gasping for breath while their former esteemed captain looked like he was trying to physically tear something invisible away from himself, but they would get no replies from the duo, both speechless for different reasons.

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BTW this is entirely inspired by him teaching Ziva different languages. It occured to me that he LIVED in Bengal for two years. No way he doesn't know atleast enough to understand. Heck I picked up a bit of korean and turkish cuz of my sister's side interests. And yes the match is real.