Night of 25TH

CHAP 27: Midst of Memories

Past:

Shubman

The stage was set for the much-anticipated test match series decider against England, with a mere 30 balls left and 30 runs required for England to clinch victory. The atmosphere at Dharmsala stadium was charged with tension, making it a nail-biting series decider.

Time had swiftly passed since the little devil, now my best friend had bowled me out in the nets. In the current scenario, I found myself stationed in the slips, my senses acutely focused on every movement of the cricket ball. With just two wickets needed from the remaining 30 balls, our bowlers had displayed remarkable prowess, conceding only one run per over. However, now, with only two balls remaining and two runs needed, the stakes were at their highest.

Taking the ball for this crucial over was Siraj, the bowler tasked with the responsibility. While he outwardly projected an air of composure, his eyes revealed a hint of nervousness because he had given a bunch of runs in his over. His gaze momentarily shifted towards the big screen, which displayed the dressing room where Anya sat, her identity concealed behind a mask. She was well aware of her presence on the camera, and in response, she playfully twisted her fingers in a bowling action. Siraj intercepted this subtle signal, and a knowing smile graced his lips. It was a secret communication, an unspoken understanding shared only between them, unbeknownst to the rest of us.

To the untrained eye, it appeared to be an innocuous gesture, but Siraj had deciphered its significance perfectly. As he embarked on his run-up, his face displayed a resolute determination and unwavering focus. Before the batsmen could react to the released bowl, the stumps were sent cartwheeling, and an ecstatic cheer resounded through the stadium. However, we refrained from immediate celebrations, acutely aware that a single ball could change the entire complexion of the match - be it through a boundary, a six, or even a couple of runs to tie the game.

Unfortunately for Siraj, the next delivery was a moment he would undoubtedly wish to erase from memory. He released the ball, and it sped directly to the boundary. The jubilant English supporters erupted in exultation as the ball rolled along the grass, eventually making contact with the boundary rope for a four.

As the thrilling match concluded, with the handshakes exchanged between our team and England, we made our way back to the dressing room. The atmosphere was a mix of emotions, disappointment, and the fatigue that comes after a closely fought battle.

Once inside the dressing room, my eyes were drawn to Siraj, who had taken a seat in a secluded corner. His face was concealed beneath his cap, an attempt to hide the tears of disappointment that welled up within him. We all understood the immense pressure he had been under during that crucial over, and we respected his need for a moment of solitude.

Amid this solemn backdrop, one person stood out, and it was Anya, affectionately referred to by Siraj as "chotu" due to her petite stature. While the rest of us offered Siraj space, she broke away from the norm. With a quiet sense of purpose, she walked over to him and took a seat beside him.

Even without seeing her face, Siraj could sense her presence. He leaned his head on her shoulder, a silent yet profound expression of the comfort and support she provided. It was a touching sight, one that spoke volumes about the bond they shared.

Anya, never one to back down, leaned in closer and whispered something to Siraj. The words were inaudible to the rest of us, but we could see Siraj shake his head, still hidden under his cap.

Anya, being the stubborn one, didn't accept Siraj's refusal. She pinched Siraj's waist, surprising him and eliciting a yelp of surprise. In response, he removed his cap, revealing his face, and reluctantly agreed to whatever Anya had suggested, a pout forming on his lips.

"Guys, I'm joining that plan too, knowing what she said there," I said, swinging my arm onto Siraj's shoulder.

"Well, that was a whisper," Anya remarked, narrowing her eyes at me.

I couldn't help but grin. "Well, I know the evil little mind of my best friend," I replied, playfully pinching her nose. She swatted my hand away, rubbing her red nose from my pinch.

"We don't appreciate party poopers," she said, still nursing her slightly sore nose.

I chuckled. "Well, I don't take no for an answer from you, so yeah, I'm joining. And Siraj won't have a problem with it, right?" I asked, glancing at Siraj.

Siraj winked at Anya and gave a sly smirk. "No, not a problem. Let him allow Anya," he said.

Anya grinned and nodded her approval. "You can join," she said, tapping her fingers on her lap.

I looked at her, momentarily puzzled, then turned to Siraj. Finally, I nodded my head. "But Ishan will join too," I added, just to be cautious, given Anya's reputation for mischief.

"Oh, surely, call that lover of yours too," Anya teased, laughing, while Siraj couldn't help but burst into laughter, banging his head against the wall behind him.

I made a series of goofy faces at Anya, intent on teasing her a bit, and then began to walk away, not caring that I was being utterly ridiculous. Siraj's laughter, loud and infectious, filled the air as he t witnessed the spectacle.

But I had one more trick up my sleeve. In response to Anya's teasing remark about Ishan being my lover, I playfully threw my gloves in her direction. I was convinced there was no way she'd catch them, given the surprise of it all.

To my utter surprise, Anya's reflexes were lightning-fast, and she caught the gloves effortlessly, wearing a self-satisfied smirk. I couldn't help but let out a whine of frustration, stomping my feet for added effect, all the while trying to hide the fact that I was secretly amused by her incredible skill.

*****

Ishan and I stood in the lobby, dressed casually in night suits, following Anya's advice to keep it simple for our outing. Impatiently tapping our feet, I noticed Siraj and Anya engaged in laughter, almost playfully pushing each other around. As soon as they spotted us, they quickly composed themselves.

Anya inquired, "Ready?"

"Kabse khade hai chal ab jaldi," I replied with a touch of annoyance, as we'd been standing there for what felt like half an hour.

Anya humorously folded her hands and retorted, "Hello! I am a girl. I take time to get ready."

I couldn't resist teasing her back. "Harkate toh hai nhi aisi," I grinned, lightly pushing her forehead.

"Teri ladkiyo wali hai na isliye mujhe ladko wali karni padti hai," she responded, wiggling her eyebrows and casting a sly grin in Ishan's direction.

I decided to keep the playful banter going. "Ohh, shut up. You're just jealous of us, right, honey?" I quipped, hugging Ishan, who promptly pushed me off, saying, "Chii, dur rhe hai."

I couldn't bear being left behind, so I protested, "Tu toh saath de."

"Let's go, Anya. Yeh nhi sudherga," Ishan said, and the three of them began to move forward, leaving me behind, shouting.

"Bol kon rha dekho toh, and wait for me!" I called out, running after them and raising my voice to make sure they heard me.

As I chased after them, they slowed down, allowing me to catch up. Anya had a mischievous glint in her eye, clearly enjoying the whole situation. Ishan and Siraj couldn't help but chuckle at our antics.

We soon made our way to a car parked outside the hotel. I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. "Where are we going, anyway?" I asked, my voice a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Anya flashed a mischievous smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "For a long drive," she replied, her tone enigmatic.

Ishan and Siraj seemed excited by the prospect, but I couldn't shake off a sense of unease. Anya's reputation for unpredictability had me on edge. Nevertheless, I climbed into the car, and the four of us set off into the night, the destination unknown and adventure awaiting us.