Shadows Of The Stumps

Chapter - 45

Virat stood outside Rahul's door, his knuckles hovering above the wood before knocking gently. "Rahuliya, I know you're awake," he said softly, waiting for a response.

From the other side came a muffled voice. "I'm fine, Bhai."

Virat smiled to himself, already knowing where this was going. "I know, kid. That's why I came."

There was a pause, long enough for Virat to push the door open and step inside. Rahul sat at the edge of the bed, slumped forward, running his hands over his face. The room felt heavy, the kind of silence that wraps itself around unspoken thoughts.

"You're fine?" Virat repeated as he walked over to the bed and sat down beside him. "Totally fine?"

Rahul gave a small, tired smile, barely lifting his head. "Yeah."

"Hmm." Virat leaned back, stretching his legs out. "It's good you're fine. Otherwise, I'd have to spend the next hour listening to you sulk."

Rahul let out a huff that was almost a laugh. "I'm not sulking."

"Of course not," Virat agreed lightly. "You're perfectly fine. Just sitting here in the dark, thinking about... what? Something that's totally not bothering you?"

Rahul opened his mouth, but Virat raised a hand, cutting him off. "Nope. Don't say it. I know you're fine."

A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Rahul's lips. "You're so annoying, Bhai."

"That's my job." Virat grinned, nudging him lightly with his shoulder. "Now tell me—what's the thing that's totally not bothering you?"

Rahul exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. "It's nothing... just—last game."

Virat hummed thoughtfully. "Last game, the Test ?"

"Yeah, where I played like an idiot."

"Hmm. And that's why you've been stuck in your room, overanalyzing every shot, thinking it's the end of the world?"

Rahul sighed, his head dropping forward again. "I guess."

Virat rested his arm around Rahul's shoulder, pulling him close for a second. "You do know we've all had bad days, right? Even me."

"Not like this," Rahul whispered. "I overthink too much. I just get stuck in my head."

Virat gave him a gentle pat on the back. "You do, Rahuliya. You get caught up in what-ifs and should-haves. But let me tell you something: not every game is a crisis. Some days, it's just cricket. And that's okay."

Rahul leaned his elbows on his knees, still staring at the floor. "But it feels like I'm always falling short."

Virat's voice softened. "Falling short of what? Of being perfect? No one is, kid. You don't have to win every game or hit every shot. You don't have to prove anything to anyone—not to me, not to the fans, not to the selectors. You've already earned your place here. You belong."

Rahul swallowed hard, the weight of those words slowly sinking in. "You make it sound so easy."

"It's not," Virat admitted. "But it's simpler when you stop being so hard on yourself. Cricket is a game. You're allowed to have fun with it, to mess up sometimes. The pressure will always be there—don't let it define you."

Rahul closed his eyes, the knot in his chest loosening ever so slightly. "I just... I hate feeling like this."

Virat gently ruffled Rahul's hair. "I know, kid. That's why I'm here. You don't have to carry it alone."

They sat in silence for a moment, the quiet hum of the room feeling oddly comforting now. Virat shifted, his hand still resting lightly on Rahul's shoulder.