the boundary

Tauba Tauba

Hi all,

 I know putting an A/N at the beginning of the chapter has not been my style but I have a book idea I need some advice for. At the expense of sounding like my LinkedIn, I have a very strong background in Psychology - literally my profession - and I wanted to write a book about different mental health disorders. Think of it like a oneshot book with scenarios depicting different symptoms of mental health disorders. I want the characters to be old and new ICT members (purely because I have recently been enjoying cricket a lot and this might be a good way to reach a broader audience. Unlike my other books, I do care if a lot of people read the new book as it has an associated informational value.

What do y'all think? I want people to be able to request the disorder they want to learn more about.

Warmly,

SS <3 (Enjoy the chapter tho hehe)

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India had just scraped a nail-biting victory against New Zealand at Wankhede Stadium. Though the euphoria of the win filled the locker room, it didn't completely dispel the sense of disappointment hanging over Ishan Kishan. His performance today had been far from stellar, and that fact weighed heavily on him. For Ishan, it wasn't enough that India had won—he wanted to be one of the reasons they had triumphed. But tonight, he hadn't played his part, and it gnawed at him. Shubman Gill, on the other hand, had been wrestling with his frustrations. His batting, too, hadn't been up to par, though the victory had eased some of that sting. What had truly lifted the team was Virat's match-saving century, an awe-inspiring innings that had turned the tide of the game. It was hard not to feel grateful, but deep down, Shubman was equally as frustrated as Ishan with his lack of contribution.

The team was celebrating, laughter bouncing off the walls of the changing room, but Ishan sat quietly, lost in his thoughts. He replayed his missed shots, the missed opportunity to shine, and the disappointment of failing when the team had needed him. Shubman, wiping the sweat off his brow, noticed Ishan's sullen expression from across the room. Despite the exhaustion clinging to his body, he knew he had to do something. He walked over, his usual easygoing demeanor intact, though he felt something shift in the pit of his stomach when he saw Ishan so downcast.

"Bro, what's with the long face?" Shubman said, slapping Ishan's shoulder playfully as he sat next to him.

Ishan shrugged, looking away, still lost in his thoughts. "I just... wasn't good enough today. Didn't feel right out there."

Shubman nodded. He understood. They had both felt it—those moments when the game just slips away from you, when no matter how much you try, it's like you're not even in control."We all have off days," Shubman said, his voice softer now. "But we won. That's what counts. Besides, Virat was a beast out there. We were in good hands."

"Yeah, I know," Ishan muttered. "But it still feels like I let the team down."

Shubman paused for a moment, thinking. Then an idea sparked. "Okay, enough sulking. I've got just the thing to lift your mood."

Ishan glanced at him, confused. Shubman leaned in with a grin. "Jugnu got us three tickets to a private concert tonight—Karan Aujla. You, me, and him. It'll be a blast, trust me. We'll drink, listen to some sick tunes, and forget all about the match."