In Every Story of Mine (A Jassi-Hardik story)

When the safe space is gone

Jassi didn't remember when he'd first heard of the word 'escapist,' but he had a general idea that he had known he was one ever since he knew of the word. From his childhood, whenever something unpleasant happened, his first reaction would be to shut it out. Over the years, he had got really good at that.

So good, in fact, that sometimes these days he didn't even register that that was what he was doing—shutting it out instead of confronting it.

_________________

When the decision of the management to change the captain of the Mumbai Indians had first reached Jassi, he had been furious with Hardik. Furious, for being so selfish and greedy as to take away captaincy from MI's existing one, and so ungrateful as to take it away from their dearest elder brother, who'd overseen every step either of them had taken in the higher-level cricketing world. Furious, in spite of Rohit bhaiya's own insistence that Hardik was not at fault.

He had been ready to shut it all out then, too, and focus on the series in South Africa, but Hardik had turned up at the airport, and flown with them to South Africa, refusing to take Jassi's barbs to his heart till he had convinced Jassi that he hadn't done it knowingly and he regretted the slight to their elder brother as much as Jassi did.

Jassi regretted more than that now. He had acted on knee-jerk to an unpleasant news as the worst sort of friend possible, and every day since they'd made up, he had wished he could take it back.

But Hardik, no matter how much he'd been hurt, hadn't minded forgiving him, when Jassi asked for it...

***

"You've already decided what's believable of me, and it turns out we were never friends at all. Initially I thought I needed you to believe me because I need you by my side, but you're right, I don't need anyone. And then I was just trying to save our friendship, but there's nothing to save. So—"

"I'm—I'm really sorry, Hardik—"

"NO, YOU'RE NOT. WHY WOULD YOU BE SORRY FOR HURTING SOMEONE WHO HURT ROHIT BHAIYA?"

"But you didn't hurt Rohit bhaiya, right?"

"I did for all you care—for all you...care."

"No, you didn't. You don't have to say anything more...no more justification...I don't need to know anything more...I'll just believe in you. I'll just believe in you, without needing to know the whole story. Then you'll trust our friendship again, wouldn't you?"

"Yes, maybe. Yes, I suppose so."

***

Once they had talked it out, there was the cheerful prospect of Hardik returning to their old IPL team. Jassi had never let Hardik suspect (and never would) how much he'd missed him in MI.

And Jassi had thought—believed, even, naively—that everything was all right, because he hadn't known the world was gearing up to unleash its nastiest.

He'd come back from a year of injuries, and they'd lost a World Cup final...another World Cup was approaching in less than half a year, the series vs South Africa had got over on a decent note (drawing, if not winning), and for two months, he'd thought he could play a peaceful home Test series, relaxing his overtaxed brain...

But no.

They were the news.

His IPL team, his elder brother and his best friend, he himself...they were the news which was all toxicity. His closest friend was being torn apart beyond all moral limits and no one could say anything because the management wouldn't let them. They had to be silent spectators.

Jassi had to be silent spectator to his countrymen tearing Hardik apart.

________________

But he had hoped—though with not as much belief as before—that when the IPL began, people would be forced to stop barking, when they would see that Rohit bhaiya himself did not consider himself betrayed as his fans (comprising the whole country, it seemed) staunchly believed.

How had he been so stupid?

From the day the MI camp met, things got worse. People turned up at practice sessions to chant slurs at Hardik and yell 'support' for Rohit bhaiya. People followed the team bus, swarmed their hotel—and as for social media, there was no bound to that—all with the same purpose: kill Hardik's confidence.

They seemed to be succeeding.

In spite of the team's solidarity, especially Rohit bhaiya's, Hardik had gone all withdrawn, speaking few words outside those necessary. There was no goofing around, no attention-seeking, no crazy stories rattled off at every team dinner—and the saddest of all, his eyes were blank.

Just when it seemed to Jassi things couldn't get any worse, the matches began.

________________

As cricketers of India, from a very young age, they'd naturally learnt to tune out the crowd, which they knew was capable of supporting you one minute and turning against you the very next.

But these crowds? The away ones—and the home one?

They were a roaring, jeering entity no one could shut out. Every day they came up with more celebratory slogans for Rohit bhaiya and fresh slurs for Hardik. Rohit bhaiya moved mechanically, and tried never to face the crowd, never to acknowledge it. Hardik flashed fake smiles all the damn time. No one remembered the last time SKY had cracked a joke on the field. Ishan sometimes looked on the verge of tears when he caught a particularly appalling abuse thrown at Hardik. Tilak was perpetually scared on and off the field.

Jassi saw it all, and hated it all.

The 'Mumbai Indians camp,' that had been his safe space—his own space—for two months of every year of his life for ten years, was gone.

Jassi felt like he had lost his home, or at least one of them.

He didn't realize when he started withdrawing, when his natural instinct to anything related to the MI camp started becoming 'run!'

He avoided team meals and team trips. He booked seats in the flight as apart from the team as he could. He spent all time off from matches with Sanjana and Angad, his only escape and solace.

And the harder he wished he could turn back in time three years and get his old camp back, with Rohit bhaiya their captain and a goofy Hardik his constant companion, the more effectively he could shut every unpleasant noise out.