Shubman's world shattered with the ring of his phone, his parents' jubilant voices slicing through the silence of his room. "Shubman, beta, we've fixed your marriage with Sara Tendulkar. We're so happy!"
The words hung in the air like a heavy fog, suffocating him with their weight. Sara Tendulkar?* The name reverberated in his mind, each syllable a painful reminder of the life he was expected to lead, a life devoid of the one he truly loved.
He managed a weak response, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace. "Haan, Maa, Papa. I'm happy too."
But as the call ended, and the facade crumbled, the floodgates opened, and tears streamed down his face, each drop a silent testament to the agony tearing him apart from within.
Alone in the darkness of his room, Shubman collapsed onto his bed, his body wracked with sobs. The weight of his unspoken love for Ishan pressed down on him like a suffocating blanket, leaving him gasping for air.
"I can't do this," he whispered into the emptiness, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heart breaking. "I love you, Ishan." But the words remained trapped within him, buried beneath layers of societal expectations and familial obligations.
He clutched his pillow to his chest, seeking solace in its familiar embrace, but finding only the echo of his own pain. Each heartbeat echoed with the ache of longing, each breath a reminder of the love he could never fully express.
In the darkness of his despair, Shubman wept, his tears a silent symphony of grief and longing. For in that moment, he was not just mourning the loss of a future with Ishan, but the loss of his own freedom to love unabashedly, condemned to a lifetime of veiled tears and unspoken desires.
Ishan stood at the doorway, his heart heavy with the weight of Shubman's unspoken pain. As he watched his best friend curled up on the bed, tears staining his cheeks, Ishan felt a surge of anguish wash over him.
Moving silently across the room, Ishan approached Shubman's bedside. Gently, he reached out and brushed a stray tear from Shubman's cheek, his touch feather-light against the warmth of his skin.
Shubman stirred slightly, his features softened by the peacefulness of sleep. Ishan couldn't help but marvel at the sight of his 29-year-old best friend, vulnerable and raw in the quiet of the night.
For a moment, Ishan allowed himself to forget the barriers that separated them, the expectations that shackled their love. In that fleeting moment, all that mattered was the bond they shared, unbreakable and unyielding in the face of adversity.
With a heavy heart, Ishan pressed a tender kiss to Shubman's forehead, a silent promise to stand by his side no matter what the future held. And as he watched over his slumbering best friend, Ishan prayed for a world where love could reign supreme, where two souls could find solace in each other's embrace without fear or shame.
As the first light of dawn crept into the room, Shubman stirred from his sleep and found himself face to face with Ishan, their bodies intertwined in an unexpected embrace.
Shubman: "Ish?"
Ishan: "Shh, go back to sleep, Shub. You looked peaceful."
Shubman hesitated for a moment, then relaxed into Ishan's embrace, feeling a sense of comfort wash over him.
Shubman: "Thank you, Ish. For being here."
Ishan: "Always, Shub. You're not alone in this."
The morning sun illuminated the breakfast table as Shubman joined the rest of the cricket family. Ishan, too, took his seat, their eyes meeting briefly with a shared understanding that lingered from the quiet moments of the morning.
