Shuttles And Stars

Neeraj

I was deep into my practice, moving across the badminton court, when I decided to take a quick break. That's when I came across an old article in some news archive on my phone. The headline caught my attention immediately: "Maharashtra’s Youngest Queen of Badminton ‘JO’ Breaks Four National Records."

I paused, remembering how obsessed I used to be with her. ‘JO’—the girl who had dominated the badminton world when she was barely a teenager. She broke records and, in a way, broke through my defenses back then. I used to crush on her like a madman, and to be honest, even now, seeing that name stirred something in me.

The article was dated about nine years ago, and it talked about how she put Pune on the national map, standing as the Rank 1 district. I couldn’t help but save the article to my phone and printed a copy, slipping it into my phone case. Somewhere, the feelings I had for JO all those years ago still lingered. But this was just nostalgia, right?

That afternoon, Abhimanyu was heading over to Sia’s place to meet Meera, and I decided to tag along. Part of me just wanted to see Sia, but another part was still thinking about that article. I figured she’d get a kick out of seeing it too.

Once we were at her place, I casually pulled out the article and handed it to her. “Check this out,” I said, not thinking much of it. But the moment she looked at it, everything changed.

Sia’s face shifted as she read the article, and I saw her hands tremble slightly. Before I could even ask her what was wrong, tears rolled down her cheeks. I was completely thrown off. I had no idea what was happening. “Sia…?” I started, but she didn’t say anything.

She just stood there for a moment, staring at the paper, then turned and walked straight to her room, shutting the door behind her. Hard.

I stood there, completely clueless. What did I just do? What could’ve possibly upset her so much? I wanted to follow her, to ask if she was okay, but I knew better than to push. Five long minutes passed before she finally emerged. Her face was calmer, but I could tell she’d been crying.

“I’m sorry for reacting like that,” she said softly. “That article just… brought back a lot. I didn’t mean to slam the door on you.”

I wanted to ask more, to understand what exactly was going on, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to push her into talking about something she clearly wasn’t ready for. Instead, I just nodded. “It’s alright, Sia. No harm done.”

She smiled a little, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Let’s just have some coffee,” she offered, and we moved past the awkwardness of the moment.

As we were settling in with our coffee, Meera and Abhimanyu joined us in the living room. The mood lightened considerably as we all started talking, laughing about random things. But the whole time, I couldn’t shake this undercurrent between Sia and me. We kept catching each other’s eyes across the room, these small, silent glances that felt charged with something neither of us could name.

Eventually, it was time to leave. Abhimanyu and I said our goodbyes and headed out. As soon as we got into the car, he gave me this knowing look and smirked. “So, what exactly happened between you two? Come on, don’t leave me hanging.”

I just laughed, shaking my head. “Nothing, man. We just talked.”

“Yeah, sure. I saw those looks. Something’s going on.”

I avoided his teasing, but of course, Abhimanyu wasn’t going to let it drop. He turned on the radio and started playing the cheesiest romantic songs he could find, grinning like an idiot. I couldn’t help but laugh, even as I tried to brush him off. He loved to mess with me, but I wasn’t about to give him any more fuel.

As we pulled up to the apartment, the teasing finally died down. “Don’t forget,” Abhimanyu said, serious for once, “you need to buy a new racket tomorrow. And make sure you don’t miss your visa verification for the Denmark championship.”

“Yeah, I know,” I replied, stepping out of the car. But honestly, my mind wasn’t on the racket or the visa. It was still back at Sia’s place, trying to piece together what exactly had happened—and more importantly, what that article had stirred in both of us.