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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Is he still breathing?
Shubman blinks, staring up at the ceiling, trying to find some hidden answer in the intricate patterns of Rohit bhai's living room.
Is he still breathing? He checks again—yes, the slow rise and fall of his chest is proof that he's still alive. But just barely. A marriage of convenience? And with his Mrignaini, no less?
The thought alone makes his heart do an awkward somersault, and he has to force himself to take a deep breath, slow and steady, as if that might somehow make this entire situation less surreal.
He almost wants to burst out laughing at the sheer absurdity of it all, like one of those over-the-top plot twists in the serials his mother and Shahneel di are glued to every evening, where the hero suddenly finds himself married to the heroine in the most unexpected circumstances.
But this isn't a serial. This is real life, and he's the one caught in this ridiculous situation.
Mann mein laddoo phoota.
A marriage. To her. The same girl who has managed to turn his world upside down in less than 24 hours. And here he is, in Rohit bhai's living room, on this ridiculously comfortable sofa, while a group of very serious people are calmly discussing his future like they're planning a family function.
The worst part? Somewhere deep inside, past all the confusion, the nerves, and the sheer madness of it all, there's a tiny flicker of excitement, something warm and unfamiliar, something that makes him wonder if maybe, just maybe, this isn't the worst idea in the world.
Of course, the thought of actually going through with it sends another wave of disbelief crashing over him. What will his mother say? She'll probably faint the moment she hears about it, or worse, drag him to the nearest temple for some sort of ritual to purge whatever madness has seized him.
And Shahneel di? She'll never let him live it down, teasing him at every turn, composing silly songs and singing them at every family gathering just to see him squirm.
And Papa ji. Hayo Rabba, he can already picture the stern look on his father's face, the kind that could make even the bravest soul shrink back a little.
Papa ji will probably sit him down for one of those long, serious talks that always start with "Puttar ji," and end with Shubman feeling like he's somehow managed to disappoint the entire family line.
He can almost hear it now, the quiet disappointment wrapped in concern, the way his father would try to understand how his sensible, cricket-obsessed son ended up in a situation straight out of a melodramatic movie.
And what would he even say? That it's all part of some wild PR strategy to save everyone's reputation? That he's been tossed into the deep end of a plan that makes no sense but seems to be the only solution everyone can agree on?
