loml- Ishman

Mei hu na

Shubman woke up with a heavy heart and an unsettling feeling in his chest. Shahneel's words had given him comfort yesterday—a hope that everything would be fine. Therefore, he wasted no time and started contacting his friends one by one. He started by calling each of Ishan's childhood friends who lived in Mumbai. He got no important lead. Most of them were surprised at the fact that Ishan would do such projectory. Ishan was always a ray of sunshine; nothing dampened his emotions. He was sure to check up on everyone once in a while, always greeting them with the most joyous voice and personality.

Shubman had tried to call Ishan's closest friend—Mayank Markande—after himself because no one could even come close to Shubman in Ishan's life. He was the first person who ever came to his mind when something good or bad came in his life, and boy did Shubman flaunt that ideal, but the call was unreachable.

By this point, Shubman had contacted any person associated with Ishan. He had no luck. Shubman's ray of hope was starting to get dampened. The usual hospitality of their shared apartment was suffocating him. He started to feel overwhelmed by his emotions. His need for Ishan is getting stronger. The failure of him to understand Ishan caused panic to slurge amongst him. His breaths became uneven as he started to sob. His body racking as each sob gets louder and louder. His head felt heavy as panic spread in his body, his legs giving out. He felt like he would pass out any moment from the overwhelming grief of not being there for his ishan. He clutched his neclace hard, the stars digging in the palm. He tried to breathe; it felt impossible. He tried to speak, to call out for anyone. Shubman couldn't think. He just couldn't take it anymore. 

Young shubman had trouble breathing. He had just been scolded by his coach. It was the final warning. He had gotten out of three ducks in this series alone. There were two matches left, and his coach had given him a message that went clear—perform in the next match or you are out of the squad. It doesn't matter if you are the vice captain. All he could think about was how his hard work could go to waste just because he couldn't get his act together. It felt all too familiar; his head was pounding, and tears flooded his eyes, making it hard to see. His chest racked with sobs. He couldn't stop, no matter what.

Shubman felt someone's hands enlope him. The scent of a familiar person filled his nose. It was the same familiar warmth Shubman loved.

"Baby, whats wrong?" Ishan says, his voice remaining comparitively calm for someone who was panicking.

Shuman remains silent, cluthching hard to Ishan. "Baby, meri jaan, you have to calm down, okay? Just follow what I say. Can you do that for me?"

Shubman manages a meek nod: "Baby focuses on the plants in the corner. Look at them. Just tell me how many plants are there. Do that for me, okay," Ishan says encouragly.

Shubman opens his mouth to speak, but no words are formed. "Baby....bus khosih karo mei hu yaha pei," Ishan kisses Shubman's forehead.

"Mujhse....cha..char, "Shubman stammers, his voice barely audible to Ishan, "bus hogaya jaan bus aram sei." Shubman nods again as he continues; his breaths were a lot calmer. "plants dikh-dikhre hai-i."

Shubman's eyes scanned the room, his eyes falling on a wall with photos. With his blurry visions, someone managed to count the number of photos out loud, "on-ne..t-two..th-ree...four..". Shubman had somehow managed to grap the headpost, one hand cluthching the necklace and the other the headrest.

"What can you hear, baby?" Ishan asks, his voice tender as he caresses Shubman's head, lovingly providing much-needed comfort.

"I can hear...the cars..a-and a..hamerimg-g sound." Shubman's voice was a lot more clearer, his tears had almost stopped.