BROKEN THINGS

43

Rahul's skin was beginning to itch as he slowly told, a somewhat censored version of all that had happened. He hadn't thought he would ever have to relive everything all over again, ever have to put into words everything that kept him up at night. He hadn't even thought of telling everything even now but Sachin was insistent, asking the right questions, pressing until he had his answer. So he told him everything after finding it harder and harder to keep his itch under control and choose what to tell at the same time.

Like how at first he had believed Greg was helping him look for the stalker. How Greg had confided in him over Sourav's injury making a comeback, which had been such a dirty lie now that he thought about it, he couldn't believe that he had fallen for it. He could remember Greg's absent musings on whether there was a stalker after Sourav too, whether Sourav too had secrets like his and Sachin's. After all, while a few of their friends knew that they constantly bordered on something more than friends, heck Sourav had been the first to know that Sachin liked him; none of them knew that they had been together. Together for nearly a year when they had gotten clicked. That was how careful they were. A random passerby couldn't have clicked that picture. No, it had to be someone with access to both of them, to both their schedules, knowledge of both their locations.

Rahul had been stumbling on the edge of the answer when Greg had pulled that stalker on Sourav card. Anxiety over his and Sachin's careers, their lives, their straining relationship as he got more distant in an effort to protect got worse with the addition of this worry, turning into blood curdling fear. There were five people he held that closely to his heart and those were his Dada, the first family he had felt after his life had gotten ripped apart at the hands of a senseless truck, then were their parents who hadn't hesitated in opening their arms to another child, his eldest brother who while never close to him, was the most supportive person in his family. And the fourth had been Sachin. Sachin who lightened up the world around him by just existing. Keeping a handle on the threat to two of his people had him sufficiently distracted from truth had had him distracted from the answer he could have had weeks ago had he just not let his emotions rule him. 

But instead Rahul had turned blindly towards the only one understanding in the storm that had captured him. Sourav was angry. Anil was disappointed. And Sachin... Sachin was heartbroken. Because Rahul had kept pushing him away, silence meeting all his efforts, until his heart had given to the strain and broken. Along with their relationship. One they had worked so hard to nurture, protect and love. Greg had seemed god-sent at that time when he couldn't share anything with anyone, not without catching the stalker's attention. Everything he said had seemed like gospel.

He had believed him to be a good man but Greg had just been manipulating Rahul for his own gain. His own plans. A puppet captain he had thought, soft, malleable, pliant. Except Rahul had never been a puppet for anyone. He had always had a streak of fierce independence stemming from his teenage years where he had struggled to understand who he was. A part of the family or a charity case. His mother's son or just her guilt of outliving her friend. It had been the decision to play for Karnataka instead of Bengal which really made him understand his own place, his own existence. While the rest of the family, particularly Sourav, had been upset; his eldest brother had helped him then, Bhaiya had taken him to Karnataka, helped him set up his house, registered him for Karnataka State Cricket Board. And then before leaving, he had told him gently, as if he had known exactly what the storm in Rahul's heart was- that no matter where he played from, he would still be a Ganguly, still be their brother, still be their Rahul. That was his identity he realised. Just Rahul.

Greg had not expected Rahul to be a man who could go against his own family, this then was just a coach. He had not expected for Rahul to be the first to stray, first to disobey, to do his own thing instead of following the plans he made. He had not expected Rahul to talk back, to argue, to disagree vehemently. 

And so the first fist had risen. It had been completely an accident, it had been clear. Greg had lost his temper and thrown a wild hand, catching Rahul off-guard. He had not been able to dodge completely, ending up with a bleeding nose which he would later blame on a stray ball. Greg had apologized immediately, claiming he hadn't meant for that to happen and stupid, naive idiot that he was, he had believed him. Forgiven him.

But it happened again. The apology half-hearted. Rahul had let it go. He was far too alone to push one more person away. Then it happened again... and again... and again. And each time Rahul forgave. Greg was emotional, he rationed, it hurt him as much as it hurt Rahul when they lost. It was accidental he used to think. The loss of temper was an accident. An emotional response. Not a targetted one.

He stopped speaking at that point, unable to keep going. He had let it go, not realizing how it was changing him. How he was subconsciously beginning to consider whether doing something would make Greg angry or not. How he was slowly stopping himself from following his instinct, playing according to his own understanding of the situations and instead doing everything to make sure he was not pissing Greg off.

He had dissolved everything that made him Rahul. The Rahul who was a Ganguly and a Dravid, a Bengali and Kannadiga, who had four parents, who was both an only child and the youngest of three. Everything about him that he liked, he stopped. He did not want to make his only friend angry. And now he was someone formed from the hands of Greg Chappel. Who thought about what Greg Chappel wouldn't like before thinking about whether doing something was right. Who thought about Chappel's dislikes before thinking about his own likes. A puppet.

"What changed?" Sachin's voice broke through his thoughts.

Rahul looked up, disconcerted.

Sachin wasn't looking at him, staring at his hands or looking off to the distance, "You said you used to think he would h-hit you on accident. What made you stop thinking it was accidental?"

Rahul rubbed his face, suddenly feeling very very tired. He just wanted to sleep and never get up again. If only the world could stop existence. Or at the very least, if he could stop existing. His skin itched more and he tried not to fidget.

"Isn't this enough?" he asked rubbing his eyes as if it could make the heaviness go away, "I told you why he got the courage, was that not what you wanted to know?".

Sachin looked at him then shaking his head, "If you run your memory back a little, you will know that I asked a lot more than that. Remember the deal Rahul. Everything. Now tell me. What changed?"

Rahul sighed heavily, feeling the pit get deeper in his gut. Sachin was never going to forgive him after knowing what's next. Rahul couldn't. It had been over a year and he still couldn't. 

"He shoved Mahi,".