The last drive

Part 2

The atmosphere was heavy with grief, the air thick with the sorrow of an entire nation mourning the loss of their beloved cricketer, Ishan Kishan. His untimely death had shattered millions of hearts, but none more than Shubman Gill's. The country, glued to their televisions, couldn’t believe the news of the tragic accident. People lit candles, social media flooded with tributes, and Ishan’s fans were inconsolable.

But no one’s grief could compare to Shubman’s. Just a day ago, he had married Sara, a decision that seemed right at the time, but now, the weight of his unspoken love for Ishan suffocated him. He was silent as he sat on the edge of his bed, staring into nothingness, his heart twisted with regret and sorrow. He had lost his best friend. He had lost his love.

Suddenly, Mayank entered the room, his face pale, his eyes full of understanding. He had been watching Shubman since the news broke, and he could no longer hold back what needed to be said.

"Shubman," Mayank said, his voice quiet yet firm. "You realized it, right?"

Shubman looked up, confused. "Realized what?"

Mayank sighed deeply. "That you loved Ishan… romantically."

Shubman’s heart clenched painfully. The truth hit him like a freight train, but he already knew. It was something he had buried deep, something he had been too blind—or too scared—to face. He dropped his head into his hands, whispering, "Haan, lekin ab kya fayda? Ishu toh chala gaya…" His voice cracked, the words barely escaping his lips.

Mayank swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling the weight of Shubman's pain. "He loved you, Shubman. Really, deeply. For years. He tried so many times to tell you, but you were so wrapped up in your feelings for Sara, you never noticed."

Shubman’s breath caught in his throat. "He did…?"

Mayank nodded, his own eyes misting with unshed tears. "Yes. It killed him to see you with Sara. He cried himself to sleep some nights, thinking his feelings were one-sided… that you loved her and not him."

Shubman’s chest tightened as he gripped his head in frustration. "Why didn’t you tell me, Mayank? Tumhe pata tha, phir bhi mujhe kabhi bataya kyun nahi?"

Mayank exhaled slowly, his voice low. "Everyone knew, Shubman. Rohit bhai, Hardik bhai, Virat bhai… sabko pata tha. But no one ever told him they knew. And when Ishan found out, he made me swear not to tell you. He didn’t want to come between you and Sara. That fool thought he didn’t deserve you."

Shubman’s mind raced back to the countless moments they had shared—those lingering touches, the way Ishan’s eyes always seemed to seek him out in a crowded room, how he’d always been by his side. All the subtle hints Ishan had dropped over the years, moments that now screamed at him. How foolish had he been? He had missed all the signs, all the unspoken confessions hidden behind Ishan’s playful smiles and teasing remarks.

Tears spilled down Shubman’s cheeks, his heart aching like never before. "I lost him," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I lost my Ishu."

As he sat there, lost in his grief, a strange warmth filled the room. Shubman looked up, his breath hitching in his throat. Standing before him, in his blue jersey, smiling softly, was Ishan.

"Ishu?" Shubman gasped, his heart pounding. "You’re back? Is it really you?"

Ishan’s smile was as bright as ever. "Mera coconut tree ro kyun raha hai?" he asked, his tone playful. "Main tere dimples dekhne aaye hoon… smile kar, na."

Shubman, tears streaming down his face, tried to smile. His heart clenched painfully as Ishan reached out, gently wiping the tears from his face. Ishan’s touch felt so real, so warm, like he had never left.

"Look what I brought for you," Ishan grinned, pulling out a tub of butterscotch ice cream with double choco chips. "Yeh tera favourite hai, na? Chalo, khao…"

Shubman took a bite as Ishan fed him, laughing softly through his tears. "You still remember…"

"Of course, I do," Ishan said, smiling fondly as he wiped away the mess of ice cream from Shubman’s face. "You’re such a kid sometimes."

Shubman smiled through his tears, his heart aching with every moment. "Tu hamesha saaf karne ke liye hoga, na?"

Ishan’s smile faltered for a moment, and he sighed, sadness flickering in his eyes. "Nahi, Shubhi… meri baat sun. Ab apna dhyan rakhna hoga. Apne saare kaam khud karne padenge. Main nahi rahunga ab."

Shubman’s breath hitched, his chest tightening painfully. "Don’t say that, Ishu… tu yahan hai, tu hamesha yahin rahega, na?"

Ishan chuckled sadly, shaking his head. "Tu Yashasvi ke saath room mein shift ho jaana, theek hai? Usse roommate bana le. Aur Sara ke saath khush rehna. Mujhe chachu bhi bana dena…" He laughed softly, but the sadness in his voice was unmistakable.

Shubman couldn’t hold back anymore. He broke down, his sobs wracking his body as he clung to the last traces of his best friend. "Mujhe koi nahi chahiye, Ishu… mujhe sirf tu chahiye. Please, mat jaa… Ishu, please."

Ishan gently wiped Shubman’s tears once again, his voice soft and full of love. "Shubhi, meri jaan… mujhe jaana hoga. But tu khush rehna, theek hai? Hamesha apni dimples wali smile dena… kyunki tujhe pata hai, mujhe tere dimples bahut pasand hai."

With those final words, Ishan’s form began to fade, leaving behind nothing but the memory of his touch, his voice, his love. Shubman cried out, reaching for him, but he was gone.

"Ishu! Ishu!" Shubman’s cries filled the room as he collapsed onto the floor, his heart shattering into a million pieces.

Sara rushed in, hearing his anguished cries. She wrapped her arms around him, trying to comfort him, but Shubman was inconsolable.

"Ishan... please... wapas aa jao..." he whispered through his sobs. Sara’s heart broke for her husband, knowing that no matter how much he loved her, his heart would always belong to Ishan.

Years passed, and Shubman learned to live with the pain. He continued his life with Sara, but the void Ishan had left in his heart never truly healed. Seven years later, as he sat in his living room, watching his three-year-old son, Ishan, playing, the memories still haunted him.

"Papa, come here, please!" his son called out, having fallen while playing. Shubman rushed over, scooping the boy into his arms.

"Kya hua, beta?" Shubman asked softly, checking his son’s small injuries.

His son, in his adorable voice, said, "Papa, is ground ko maaro… it hurt me."

Shubman’s heart clenched painfully, remembering how Ishan would say the same thing whenever he fell during a match. Tears filled his eyes as he kissed his son’s forehead.

"Papa, ro mat… main maar lunga ground ko," his son said, his tiny hands wiping Shubman’s tears. "Aap apni dimple smile dikhao… sweet wali."

Shubman couldn’t help the tears that fell as he looked at his son, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. He sent the boy to his mother, Sara, who watched silently from the kitchen, understanding the depth of Shubman’s pain.

As Shubman sat there, staring at the pearl necklace Ishan had once worn—the one Ishan’s mother had given him as a keepsake—he whispered to himself, "Ishu… tujhe kabhi bhool nahi paunga…"

And in that quiet moment, the words of a familiar song filled his mind:

*"Everything that you've ever dreamed of, disappearing when you wake up… but there's nothing to be afraid of, even when the night changes…"*

His love for Ishan hadn’t changed. It never would.