The beginning of 'HulRat'

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Rohit was talking with him ok. It was not like he was ignoring him, thought Virat. But the accusation in his eyes was only too clear. Same with everyone else. Take Shikki. Take Ash. Take Jaddu. Take even Bhuvi.

No one approved of Mahi bhai's retirement.

Did he approve of it himself? wondered Virat. He doubted it. He had driven Mahi bhai to it though; that much was clear, so it was no use having second thoughts now.

Virat found himself avoiding his team the day Mahi bhai left for India, and the silence was killing him now.

Was it possible for a person to die of loneliness?

At dinner, he abruptly caught sight of Rahul sitting in one of the corners. Virat rushed towards him with immoderate delight. Here was one person at least who would not look at him with accusation.

Rahul looked up when Virat bumped into the seat beside him, his eyes glittering and a huge grin on his face, exuding enthusiasm. He automatically backed away (because you know, it was scary to see a clown right beside your face suddenly).

"Hi, Rahuliya!"

"Rahuliya?" repeated Rahul, even more alarmed (he had NEVER heard a nickname like that).

"That's your name, isn't it?" said Virat innocently.

"Pretty sure it's not."

"Rahul, Rahuiya, close enough," said Virat dismissively. "Who is your fashion star?"

"Er," said Rahul. "Fashion star?"

"Something's wrong with your ear," said Virat, concerned.

Rahul rolled his eyes. "No, Virat. The kind of things you keep saying, they seem unreal."

Virat gaped. "Everyone has a fashion star, right?"

"Mine's David Beckham," conceded Rahul, remembering Mahi bhai's words and resolving to at least try to talk to Virat. Plus, he had been feeling lonely as well, in a team where everyone had known each other for year.

"Mine's SRK," said Virat solemnly.

Rahul's jaw dropped. "Really?"

"No, you dummy, who has SRK as their fashion icon?"

"But you said it so seriously I thought...never mind," sighed Rahul. Having played with Virat for a season in IPL, he did have a slight idea about his perennial tendency to play pranks.

"I'm my own fashion icon," said Virat.

Rahul couldn't tell if Virat was joking again or not. He decided to take his word for it.

"That sounds nice," he said. "I'm my own fashion icon."

"Look at these tattoos." Virat poked Rahul's tattoed arm. "You were being your own icon while getting these."

Rahul was possessive about these tattoes.

"My mother would've kicked me out of the house if I tried it at your age, Rahuliya," continued Virat.

"Mine tried too," said Rahul, beginning to grin. He told Virat about how his mom had turned up with soap when he returned home after getting those.

Virat started laughing loudly; so loudly that Rahul felt self conscious. It hadn't been that funny. He was beginning to realize that Virat was a bit too extreme about everything.

They started exchanging stories about their evolution from conservative families to fashion-conscious cricketers, and after dinner, Rahul went with Virat to his room.

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