Climb Every Mountain, With You (Shubman Gill x Ishan Kishan)

The big announcement

Those two conversation starters that evening had pretty much put a damper on Ishan's idea of introducing reality into their illusion.

"You've seen how ugly reality can be, right?" Shubman told him over the the next day. Ishan had been too upset to even talk to Shubman that day.

"Yes," Ishan said. "We don't need reality of that sort."

A month later, India was set to leave for Australia for the Border Gavaskar series. The evening before they would assemble in Mumbai, Nisha came over to wish Shubman luck, with of all things a mousse.

"Why?" Shubman demanded.

"My parents are insisting I learn some cooking, at least," said Nisha drily. "If not, wedding prospects go down."

"What do you mean, wedding prospects?" Shubman tasted a spoonful and forgot his indignation. "Oh yes, this mousse will definitely improve any prospects."

"Just the kind of support I expected from my best friend," said Nisha.

"Sorry," said Shubman. "What do they mean by wedding prospects?"

"Well, you know," said Nisha. "Twenty eight year old girl, high time to marry her off. God forbid she's fine with a career that sustains her. What will people call me?"

"That's awful," said Shubman. "But I would guess people will call you better than an alien or an animal."

"That's true," agreed Nisha. "At max, they will feel sorry for me. They definitely won't be getting sick on my account."

"No chance," said Shubman.

They laughed, competing for the mousse. Shubman couldn't believe he could laugh about that issue, but it was only with Nisha that he did. Whenever the topic came up with his sister or with Ishan, it would be a very grim one. But with Nisha? It was a joke.

Everything was a joke.

He was glad to have one person in his life with whom every bad thing was funny-bad, not kick-you-in-the-gut, destroy-your-faith-in-humanity bad.

When they were licking the last of the mousse off their spoons, face splotched brown, Shubman's phone rang. Nisha passed it over, still laughing, till she noticed the name.

"What does the BCCI want with you?"

Shubman wiped his hands and face quickly and took the call.

"Hello, sir..?"

Shubman's other phone rang almost at once-Rahul bhai-but it was too late. 

He got the news that KL Rahul would be stepping down as captain from all formats of the game following the tour in Australia from the BCCI head office. And that he was going to be national captain in all three formats.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Why are you acting like you are going to your own funeral, Shub?" Nisha asked when the pair of them were walking down the stairs to give the news to Shubman's family.

"Am I?" asked Shubman.

"Yes. Wait." Nisha steered him to the basin mirror on the way. "Look at yourself."

Shubman tried to normalize his expression. Surely he wasn't feeling as bad as he looked.

"It's just," he said. "It's just too much. National captain."

"But you always knew it was coming, Shub."

"I did, but...."

"Saw what coming?" Mr. Gill called.

"Go, go, go, tell him, he'll be the happiest!" whispered Nisha.

Shubman went to stand in front of his father. He didn't feel like shouting it. 

"Dad, I'm going to be national captain from the next tournament," he said in one breath.

His father stood up, clutching his heart.

"Format?" he asked. "All three?"

Before Shubman had finished nodding, his father almost squeezed the life out of him, shouting for his mother (though possibly all the neighbours could also hear), "MY SHUBI IS NATIONAL CAPTAIN!"

Shubman felt embarrassed to get tears in his eyes, but he was used to this. Nothing made him happier than making his father happy. His father, his first coach, his first mentor, the first person to believe in him, who had poured every bit of his life energy into making Shubman into the world's best cricketer.

"I'm the proudest and luckiest dad in the world, Shubi," his father said. "It's not just for this news....I always am."

Shubman hid his face in this father's shoulder as his father started making the calls to spread the good news everywhere.