When Shubman Gill, India's cricket sensation, meets the Radhika Sharma, their worlds collide in an unexpected twist of fate. Radhika, the protected sister of captain Rohit Sharma, has lived a life of anonymity, known only to a trusted circle. Howeve...
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Something was definitely off with Shubman.
Ishan could feel it deep down in his gut, like the unsettling sensation of eating too much spicy chaat before a match.
He'd been trying to get Shubman's attention for a good ten minutes now, but it was like talking to a statue—a very good-looking, cricket-obsessed statue, but a statue nonetheless.
At first, Ishan figured Shubman was just in one of his typical zones, where he'd get lost in thoughts about cricket, running through strategies like Virat Kohli runs through centuries.
Or maybe he was thinking about that new Netflix show everyone and their chachu had been recommending. But this was different.
There was a stillness to Shubman that Ishan couldn't quite put his finger on, like the calm before a thunderstorm in a monsoon.
Shubman was sprawled out on his bed, staring at the ceiling with such intensity that Ishan half expected him to start finding hidden meanings in the patterns of the plaster.
It was as if he was trying to decode the universe through the swirls of the fan above. Ishan tried to snap his fingers in front of his face, even waved a hand over his eyes, but Shubman didn't so much as blink.
"Isse ho kya gaya hai?" [What's happened to him?] Ishan questions himself, half-expecting Shubman to snap out of it and give him a sheepish grin.
But there was nothing. Zilch. Nada. Shubman was still lost in his own world.
Ishan tried a different approach, flopping down on the bed next to Shubman with the kind of exaggerated sigh that usually got his attention.
When that didn't work, he resorted to poking Shubman in the ribs—a move that had never failed to get a reaction.
This time, though, Shubman just flinched slightly, like a mosquito had buzzed past him, and continued his intense ceiling-staring competition.
"Bhai, kya kar raha hai? Mars par chala gaya kya?" [Bro, what are you doing? Have you gone to Mars or what?] Ishan finally asked, half-joking, trying to shake Shubman out of whatever trance he was in.
He expected Shubman to crack a smile, maybe even throw a pillow at him for being so annoying, but there was no response.
Shubman's eyes remained glued to the ceiling, as if it held the secrets to life, the universe, and cricketing glory all at once.
"Yeh toh serious ho gaya," [He is serious.] Ishan muttered under his breath, now genuinely worried. Shubman's mind wasn't just wandering, it had packed its bags and gone on a full-blown vacation.
And the way his lips were slightly parted, like he was on the verge of saying something profound or perhaps just letting out a sigh that could deflate a hot air balloon—it all made Ishan wonder if he'd missed something huge.
