Three months had passed since Ishan had slipped into his coma. The hospital room that had once been full of the bustling sounds of machines and the quiet prayers of his loved ones had grown eerily silent. His parents clung to each other in hope, while Raj never left his side, forever vigilant. Finally, after a long, excruciating wait, Ishan began to stir.
His eyelids fluttered, and he let out a faint, tired breath. His mother, who had been sitting by his side, felt her heart skip a beat. "Ishan?" she whispered, tears welling up in her eyes. His father rushed to his side, his expression torn between hope and fear.
"Ishan! Mera beta!" his mother cried, clutching his hand tightly.
Raj, who had been pacing outside, immediately rushed in, his face a mixture of relief and anxiety. "Doctor! Doctor!" he shouted, rushing out to call for medical help.
As the doctor hurried in, Ishan’s parents anxiously watched every move. The doctor checked his vitals and began asking Ishan questions to gauge his cognitive functions.
"How are you feeling, Ishan?" the doctor asked.
"Thoda tired," Ishan responded in a whisper, his voice hoarse.
"Do you know where you are?" the doctor inquired gently, his eyes scanning Ishan's reaction.
Ishan nodded slowly. "Hospital... I remember... some things."
The doctor nodded approvingly. "That's good. It’s a sign you’re healing. You’ve been incredibly strong, Ishan."
Ishan’s mother couldn’t hold back anymore and enveloped him in a tight embrace. "Dara diya tha beta tumne... Bahut darr gaye the hum," she whispered, sobbing softly into his shoulder.
His father placed a firm yet gentle hand on Ishan’s head, his voice shaky. "Promise me you’ll never scare us like this again."
Ishan tried to smile, but it was broken, just like the pain he still felt inside. Raj, unable to contain his emotions, spoke, his voice cracking with hurt. "Itna tut gaya tha tu ki apne bhai ko bhi nahi bata sakta tu kya soch raha hai?"
Ishan's eyes filled with tears, and he nodded slightly, unable to voice the pain that still gripped him. He wanted to reassure them, but all he could manage was a feeble attempt at a smile that failed to reach his eyes.
As Raj stepped outside the room to catch his breath, he pulled out his phone and called Rohit Sharma, the captain of the Indian cricket team. His voice was trembling with a mix of relief and lingering fear.
"Hello, Rohit Bhai," Raj began.
Rohit, sensing the heaviness in Raj's tone, replied quickly, "Haan, bolo Raj. Sab thik hai na?"
Raj took a deep breath, trying to contain his emotions. "Shubman wahan hai na?"
Hearing his name, Shubman immediately took the phone, his heartbeat quickening. "Haan bhai, main yahin hoon... Ishan thik hai na? Kuchh batao, please."
Raj, with a deep sigh, finally said the words Shubman had been longing to hear. "Ishan... Ishan has woken up."
Shubman’s heart felt like it had been struck by lightning. He exhaled sharply, the weight of months of guilt and pain finally lifting a little. He tried to smile, but it was laced with anguish, his mind unable to fully grasp the reality of those words. The entire team erupted into cheers of joy, finally hearing the news they had all been praying for.
“Thank God!” Rohit exclaimed, tears of relief in his eyes. "Bhai, hum sab aayenge usse milne."
When the team arrived at the hospital, their joy was palpable, but it was laced with an underlying sadness. As they entered the room one by one, Ishan’s face lit up at the sight of his brothers in blue. But one face was missing—the one he yearned to see the most.
Rohit stepped forward, his voice tender. "Beta, tum thik ho na? Kahin dard ho raha hai?"
Virat leaned in, his concern evident in his eyes. "Haan, Ishan. Kaisa lag raha hai ab? Kuch bhi feel ho raha hai toh bata do."
Hardik, trying to keep things light, placed a gentle kiss on Ishan’s forehead. "Chote, tension mat le. Tu ek dum thik ho jayega. Sab sahi ho jayega."
Rishabh and Siraj, known for their playful banter, tried to make Ishan smile, throwing in some light-hearted jokes. Ishan appreciated their attempts, but his eyes kept searching. He finally asked, his voice barely a whisper, "Where is he?"
Everyone fell silent, the weight of Ishan’s question hanging heavily in the air. Hardik finally spoke up, his tone soft yet understanding. "Woh bahar hai... Himmat nahi ho rahi uski... andar aane ki."
Ishan, understanding the unspoken emotions, nodded. "Mujhe usse baat karni hai. Bulao usse."
The team exchanged glances before walking out to find Shubman standing by the door, looking like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Hardik placed a hand on his back. "Woh tujhe bula raha hai, Shubman. Ishan tujhe milna chahta hai."
Shubman’s breath hitched. He had dreaded this moment, terrified of facing the man he loved, afraid of seeing the hurt in Ishan’s eyes. He nodded, summoning every ounce of courage he had left, and slowly walked into the room.
As he stepped inside, his gaze locked onto Ishan’s fragile frame. Ishan looked at him, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and unspoken pain.
"Come here," Ishan said softly, his voice still weak but carrying the same old warmth.
Shubman hesitated, his hands trembling, his heart pounding in his chest. He moved closer, his emotions overwhelming him. He wanted to touch Ishan, to hold him, to kiss away all the pain, but he stopped himself, feeling undeserving of such an act.
“I’m sorry, Shubman...” Ishan began, his voice cracking as he spoke. “I’m sorry for everything. I know you don’t love me anymore. It’s okay. I reacted badly, and I understand if you want to move on. Be happy with Sara. You deserve that.”
Shubman’s eyes widened in shock, his heart shattering at Ishan’s words. Without a second thought, he leaned in and kissed Ishan fiercely on the lips, pouring every ounce of his love, pain, and regret into that kiss.
As he pulled back, Shubman’s eyes were wet with tears. "I love you, Ishan. I love you so much that it hurts. Main tumhare bina mar gaya tha... It was never about pity. It’s always been about love. Tum meri jaan ho, Ishan. Tumhare bina main kuch bhi nahi hoon."
Ishan looked at him, tears streaming down his face, disbelief shadowing his features. "But... after everything...?"
Shubman held Ishan’s hands tightly, refusing to let go. "I was scared, Ishan. I was scared of losing you. Dekh raha tha tumhe iss haalat mein, aur kuch nahi kar pa raha tha. But now, all that matters is that you’re here. Bas abhi tum recover ho jao... and I promise, sab kuch pehle jaisa ho jayega."
As Shubman gently laid Ishan back onto the bed, he pressed a soft kiss on his forehead, a silent promise of better days ahead. He stepped outside to speak with the doctor, bombarding him with a barrage of questions about Ishan’s recovery, desperate to know every step of the process. The doctor, slightly overwhelmed but touched by the depth of Shubman’s concern, reassured him with a smile. "He’s lucky to have someone who cares this much."
While Shubman was consulting the doctor, his parents and sister Sahneel arrived, overjoyed to see Ishan awake. Sahneel immediately hugged Ishan, her tears wetting his hospital gown. "You scared us all, you idiot," she said, trying to scold him but breaking into a relieved smile.
As news of Ishan’s awakening spread, fans gathered outside the hospital, cheering for their beloved Ishan, their “Kishmish,” showering him with messages of love and encouragement. They demanded updates, expressing their heartfelt wishes for his recovery and begging Shubman to take care of their “Ishupie.”
For the first time in months, there was a ray of hope—a sign that the darkness was lifting, and the light was slowly making its way back into their lives. The journey ahead was still uncertain, but they would walk it together, healing each other’s wounds, step by painful step.
