Homecoming

Chapter 15: Homage

If Ishan thought a thousand kilometers would subdue Shubman, he had never been more wrong. First came a barrage of texts and calls, and when Ishan refused to pick up - he had the team call him, nonstop.

Ishan could have easily believed that it was the team constantly keeping tabs on him instead of the other annoying alternative - but when Shreya bhai asked how his weekly X-ray checkup went, he knew there was no-one anal retentive enough to monitor his daily schedule.

He could do nothing but answer exasperatedly, that yes, he took his medicine, his (short) trips to the garden, his tests were okay, he ate, and he slept. If they asked about his bowel movements though, Ishan thought, he was going to snap.

It was, one day, when Virat quietly asked, "Ishan, yaad aati hai?" that Ishan went mum.

He knew Virat was not asking about him (Anushka bhabhi would kill them both).

Virat must have sensed something, because he continued,

"Because let me tell you, hame to bohot yaad aati hai - tumhari bina din nai jaata, chain nai aata...."

Ishan heard the unmistakable sound of someone ripping the phone away from Virat bhai, followed by Virat's booming laughter.

Ishan could not get his facial muscles to stop from smiling fast enough.

Ishan missed the first match due to his physiotherapy session, but was determined not to miss the second.

Rahul bhai, out for some injuries, joined him for the day. Ishan had grown up watching cricket, but it still felt bizarre to watch his friends play as an audience. He understood why their fans went crazy - the atmosphere, the commentary - it gave you an adrenaline rush. He was happy Rahul bhai was with him, because his parents might support him, but they would never understand just how deep cricket ran in his blood.

NZ batted first, and boy did they play well - Kane and Rachin were brilliant to watch. Ishan had chewed half his fingernails, worried about his team, but then Rahul bhai mouthed "Virat, Virat" along with the audience, and just like that, all his worries melted away.

Rohit and Hardik bhai gave a great start as always, and even Ishan could not blame the crowd which went crazy when Rohit got out after a stormy 57.

When Shubman came on the field, it took all of Ishan's willpower to keep a straight face.

"Ishan, you can look at the screen. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

Ishan felt his cheeks going red, but fortunately, Rahul bhai was already focusing on the match.

Shubman, as always, was a treat to watch. His prowess was unmatched - no wonder they called him the Prince - the next in the line to the ICT throne.

Ishan knew the hardship, the courage it took for Shubman to reach ICT, and the humbleness he still showed was proof of a good man. It was one of the things Ishan would always admire about the man, no matter their relationship.

A worried "Damn!" brought him out of his reverie, and he turned his attention to the screen, where Shubman lay on the ground, his expression pained. Horrified, Ishan watched as his once best friend was swarmed by doctors and teammates.

It was a cramp, the commentators were saying, as Shubman was expected to retire hurt any moment.

Serves him right, thought Ishan a little maliciously, no one asked him to stay behind with me when he could have been practicing and getting his muscles ready. Maybe next time he will listen to his body and stay put.

After a brief conversation on the field, where Rohit looked like he was two seconds away from tearing his hair out, Shubman and Hardik continued playing.

"Why is he being an idiot?" blurted Ishan.

Shaking his head, Rahul replied, "Which of us are sane here?"

Ishan had no argument there.

Shubman continued playing. It was clear he was in pain - he stopped play for a bit, his face was laden with sweat, and he preferred playing boundaries and sixes as opposed to running. But he persisted.

He persisted through his fifty, through his eightly, his ninety.

Even Rahul bhai was on the edge of his seat - everyone was waiting for Shubman to complete his century.

Ishan had given up all pretense of not watching Shubman - if he could not be on the team, the least he could do was cheer his teammates. India wanted a century, dammit, and Shubman would give them one.

He did, not with a smashing four or six as everyone is wont to do - but with runs he scored in pain.

A nurse entered just then, hoping to wheel Ishan to his weekly checkup - but both Rahul and Ishan shushed her.

Ishan was about to get up to leave for his checkup - no use waiting after the century - when something on the screen shortcircuted his brain.

Shubman was bowing to the audience as was his custom, but when he stood straight, he closed his eyes and tugged his earlobe - once, twice, thrice, and smiled.

Ishan did not need to see Rahul bhai's expressions - they were mirrored on his own face.

Shubman was dedicating his century to Ishan.

Ishan, who promptly burst into tears.