WICKETS AND WIDGETS

Strength And Weakness

I sighed, glancing back at the screen where the game had just ended, and Kabir was now being awarded the player of the match. The interviewer had a mic thrust near his sweaty and clearly exhausted face.

"Give him a break, for heaven's sake," I muttered, watching the screen intently.

The female anchor smiled, "So, any comments on today's match?"

He smiled back politely, "Well, I'd say luck was on my side today. I managed to avoid getting out too quickly, and the opposition played really well. They were strong in batting but a bit lacking in bowling, which worked in our favor. Overall, it was a good game, and credit goes to all the players, both ours and the opponents for maintaining sportsmanship."

"Such humility," the lady commented, lightly hitting Kabir's shoulder and laughing. "Say, Kabir, is there anyone special you'd like to dedicate this victory to?"

"Certainly not you," I muttered under my breath, feeling a pang of possessiveness. She was attractive and all, but Kabir was off-limits.

He responded calmly, "Nobody in particular, but this victory is dedicated to all the fans who love and support me and my game."

"Ah, yes, the fans," the lady acknowledged. "You're quite popular, aren't you? No romantic interests to mention?"

He looked uncomfortable, and before he could answer, Yashasvi stepped in and spoke into the mic on his behalf. "His romantic life, or any player's for that matter, is not something we need to discuss here," he said with a smile. With that, he waved at the camera and guided Kabir back to the changing room.

I mentally noted to express my gratitude to Yashasvi if we ever met for his unwavering support of Kabir. The lady's flirtations with Kabir did bother me, although I could understand the attraction-after all, Kabir is exceptionally handsome and charming. But pursuing someone who's already committed? Not the best move.

My inner dialogue challenged me, "Is it fair to blame her? No one knows about Kabir's relationship status. It's not public knowledge."

"True," I admitted quietly.

The inner voice persisted, "Doesn't it hurt that he's not acknowledging you openly? Don't you want to stand proudly beside him, celebrating his victories without reservation? Don't you wish for your love to be acknowledged?"

I sighed, "Of course, I want that. But I also understand the delicacy of his career. I can't risk his success just to satisfy my desires."

The voice persisted, growing harsher with each word. "You can surely be selfish for once. Yes, his career is significant, but can't he manage both us and his career together? Didn't he express yesterday how he wants the world to know what you mean to him?"

I shook my head, countering, "It's not about selfishness. Ours isn't a love that can be universally accepted, and he could face severe backlash that would harm his career and mental well-being. I may not be perfect, but I won't ruin his life for my satisfaction. Besides, does it truly matter if the world knows we love each other?"

"How many sacrifices are you planning to make for him, hmm? Keep your relationship hidden, suppress your desires because he doesn't like sex. How much more will you do for him?" The voice's tone was irritating.

I clenched my fists, feeling the frustration rising. "Shut up! I thought you were gone for good. Every time you appear, things turn for the worse because you always focus on the negative. What I'm doing for him isn't a sacrifice; it's a compromise. Love requires compromise, not sacrifice. He has given me love, devotion, time, and affection. He deserves everything. So, shut up and go to sleep.