Ishq Risk: Pehla pyaar pehli baar - The Madness of High School Love

CHAPTER 3 🩵

Hey main keha khadeya kyun sab nu bukhaar bewajah hai kyun
Ik anaar sau bimaar bewajah
Oh le le do din di chandri udhaar mundeya
Tu te rehna hai aithe din chaar mundeya
Tu kar lai jinni binti, honi naa teri ginti
Aye gabbar hai ji ddoje thekedaar daa
Oh munda kukkad kamaal da

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The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the sprawling cricket field. The stadium was buzzing with excitement, the crowd's energy palpable as the final match of the inter-school cricket tournament reached its climax. The stands were packed, a sea of faces eagerly anticipating the final moments of the game. The anticipation was electric, and the atmosphere crackled with the sounds of cheers and drumbeats.

In the center of it all stood Mihir Ahuja, the star of the day. As the camera panned across the field, focusing on Mihir, it was clear why he was the center of attention. Tall and athletic, Mihir exuded a charisma that was impossible to ignore. His presence on the field was nothing short of magnetic, and he moved with a confident swagger that had become his trademark. He was the cricketer everyone talked about, the athlete who had single-handedly led his team to the finals.

Mihir stood at the crease, bat in hand, eyes locked on the bowler. The crowd was roaring, their chants and applause filling the air. He flashed a broad grin, his white teeth gleaming in the sunlight. The camera caught every moment, every flicker of emotion on his face. His dark hair was tousled from the wind, and his cricket uniform clung to his well-toned frame. Mihir was the epitome of a star athlete, and he reveled in the spotlight.

As the bowler wound up for the delivery, Mihir's teammates huddled around him, offering last-minute encouragement. Among them was Harsh, his best friend, who was practically bouncing on his toes with excitement. “Mihir, bhai, yeh last ball hai! Ek bada shot maar aur match jeet jaa!” Harsh shouted, his voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

Mihir gave him a thumbs-up, his eyes never leaving the bowler. “Tension mat le, tu. Match toh jeetna hi hai. Tu bas cheer karte reh!” he replied, his tone brimming with confidence.

The bowler released the ball, and in a flash, Mihir swung his bat. The impact was perfect, sending the ball soaring high into the sky. The crowd erupted into cheers, their excitement reaching a fever pitch. Mihir ran with the speed and grace of a seasoned athlete, sprinting between the wickets, his face flushed with determination.

As the ball flew over the boundary line for a six, the stands exploded in applause. Mihir’s teammates rushed onto the field, lifting him onto their shoulders in celebration. The stadium echoed with the chant of “Mihir! Mihir! Mihir!” as the scoreboard lit up with the winning runs.

Mihir basked in the glory, waving to the crowd with a triumphant grin. He was in his element, the center of attention, the hero of the day. His coach, Mr Deepak Sharma, approached him, a proud smile on his face. “Mihir, beta, aaj tumne sabko dikha diya ki tum kitne acche cricketer ho. Well done!”

Mihir flashes his usual toothy grin and said
"Thankyou, Sir! Aapke bina yeh possible nahi hota"

Mr. Sharma laughed. “Tumhara future bright hai Mihir, bass aise hi mehnat karte rehna.”

As Mihir and his team celebrated, a sudden hush fell over the crowd as the school's principal, Mrs. Kapoor, took the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I announce Mihir Ahuja as the Player of the Tournament. Mihir, aapki mehnat aur dedication pe hum sabko garv hai.”

Mihir stepped up to receive the award, his smile never fading. He gave a short, heartfelt speech, thanking his team, his family, and the supporters. “Aaj jo bhi hua, yeh sab mere team ke bina possible nahi hota. Aur yeh award meri zindagi ka ek haseen pal hai.”