Accepting disappointment - The First Part (A slightly different take)
A/N - I am giving myself a short break from writing full fledged chapters but I wanted to work on this short excerpt.
Do not take it too seriously, because I have twerked the characterisations a tad bit. I respect MS Dhoni so much but I wanted to explore his 'human' side a little bit. If it hurts sentiments, then I am truly sorry. It is in the format of the "One Sacked captain format but with some difference.)
Will look forward to hearing from all of us. But not proof read; Sorry.
(This is mainly for @Mishu_Rocks @enamot @anjsaverma who had requested the short)
Yes guys, I remembered. But the angst quotient is a little toned down.
The phone had been ringing for quite some time but MS was in no mood to pick it up. He had been ignoring the device for the last couple of days but something was stopping him from simply discarding the gadget into a drawer, locking it up and losing the key.
The way he often did.
He was, instead, sitting on an extended rocky slab constructed at the edge of the patch growing his favourite strawberries, and was biting into one every few minutes. The phone rang on and the tart and sweet fruit kept bursting on his tongue with freshness and the flavour of each bite was exquisite to say the least.
There was something so harmonious about eating the fruits straight from the source and watching the sun giving it best to shine brighter before he was forced to give way to the moon and the night. The persisting warmth in the air acted akin a soothing balm in the chilly winter eventide.
"Mahi? Mahi!"
MS scooted a bit and made himself disappear into the shadows of the awing to escape from Sakshi's seeking.
"Mahi? Virat is on call, Mahi!"
The alternate option had been brought into play; MS barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes realising the futility of it. Virat did not give up easy.
"Stop sulking, Mahi! I am telling Cheeku that you will call him back... Do it!"
MS sucked in his cheeks and nearly dropped his lips into a pout but rearranged his face at the last moment. He cannot forget that he was a senior cricketer, the fucking captain cool, the man no one was supposed to know.
Sakshi had probably figured out his hiding place, and her words were meant to be minor threats. She almost always allow him to take his own decisions, only prodding him towards it ever so often.
MS picked up his discarded phone and roved a thumb over its screen. The gadget flared to life and amidst several notifications, one stood out.
*43 missed calls*
MS thought for a long moment, ate another couple of strawberries and then proceeded to stare out at the unblemished skyline.
The thoughts crowding on his mind were too intrusive and he couldn't keep up with the process for too long. He had always been a man of action, though people preferred to anoint him with the thinking title once too many. But that was so not him. The thinking came automatically; the blocks fell into place.
Much like the Lego sets Ziva so loved and the games of Tetris Jaddu enjoyed.
But Mahendra Singh Dhoni preferred to act because the action was the fuel that drove his thoughts in the first place. But, for once, he believe that would prefer to think. It would be easy enough to call back, to speak platitudes. To be the elder brother. But, he did not want to.
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A Tumbler Full of Tales - ICT and beyond
Fiksi PenggemarSummary - One shots comprising of the Indian Cricket Team, their shenanigans and a few tidbits of their life. Sometimes, I am assailed by tidbits of ideas for which I cannot think of full length stories. And some, I would like for them to remain a...
