A Piece Of My Heart (Ft. Virushka) 💖

102. NOTHING ON TRICOLOR

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Match vs India

As Virat walked onto the field, the crowd erupted, their reaction a mixture of cheers, applause, and a few scattered boos that he had anticipated. The stadium was packed to the brim, people waving flags and banners with fervor.

He knew this day would come, and he had mentally prepared for it. Yet, standing there, in an Australian jersey, on the other side from the team he had given so many years of his life to, felt surreal.

He held his head high as he took his position, but he couldn't ignore the conflicting emotions swirling within him. Among the crowd, he could see countless faces-some of whom had grown up watching him, cheering for him as he reached new heights.

Now, they looked at him with an expression that was both proud and questioning. There was something in their gaze that reminded him of the weight of his choice.

As the Indian team lined up for the national anthem, the first strains of Jana Gana Mana filled the air, echoing across the stadium. Virat instinctively stood in attention , and as the familiar words began, his lips moved involuntarily, whispering the opening lines. But he caught himself, stopping mid-syllable.

His heart ached, and he felt a pang deep within, as though he were losing a part of himself. He stood still, eyes fixed on the distance, wrestling with the thoughts that surged within him.

He'd worn the Indian jersey with pride, dedicated years of his life to his country, played with passion, and poured every ounce of energy into bringing glory to India. Yet, here he was, wearing a different shade, with a different anthem ringing around him.

It wasn't that he resented India or the people -- never. His grievances were with the board, with the broken promises, the lack of faith when he needed it most. But standing here now, the complexity of his choice settled heavily on his shoulders.

Jana Gana Mana came to a close, and Virat took a deep breath, steadying himself. It wasn't the anthem he sang anymore, but the memories attached to it -- the moments, the sacrifices, the journey that had defined him.

Then, the strains of the Australian anthem began. Virat took another breath, one that held resolve, and joined his teammates in singing the words he'd practiced in anticipation of this moment. Each syllable felt foreign, and yet, it held a new weight of its own.

He had made this choice for his career, for his principles, for his dreams that stretched beyond borders. He had learned the Australian anthem not out of obligation, but as a gesture of respect for the team and the fans who had welcomed him.

As the anthem ended, he took a final deep breath, as if bracing himself for the game ahead, and clapped alongside his new teammates. He gave a nod to them, letting them know he was here, fully present, ready to give his all for the team and the game.

With a final glance at the Indian team across the field, he turned, jogging back to the dressing room to gather himself before the game.

Inside the locker room, he leaned against the wall, his mind running through every emotion he had just felt on that field. The mixed reactions from the crowd, the struggle to silence his own inner voice as it hummed the anthem that he knew so well, the sense of stepping into something new while still holding onto the past.

His heart was torn, but his mind was made up. This journey, this new chapter, was his choice. And he would prove himself here just as he had done so many times before.