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Virat felt a pang of shock and hurt as Ved’s words echoed around the room. His little son’s accusations, so unexpectedly fierce and piercing, struck him deeper than any criticism he’d faced from the media or the cricket board.
He tried to take a steady breath, holding Ved’s small shoulders as he knelt before him, hoping to find the words that would make it all clear.
“Ved, why would you say that?” Virat’s voice came out strong and a bit sharper than he intended. The little boy’s eyes flared with a mix of hurt and frustration.
“Because my friends said you’re playing against your own country, Papa!” Ved’s voice wavered, his tiny fists balled up. “You’re from India, and you’re trying to defeat India. Why would you do that?”
Virat swallowed, feeling an ache in his chest.
“Vedy, I’m not against India. I’m just… not playing for them right now. There’s a difference, beta,” he said, hoping those words alone would somehow settle the confusion. But Ved’s young mind was racing, filled with questions he wasn’t sure he even wanted to answer.
“Then why? Why not? You always say I have to respect our flag, and our country. But you… you’re playing to beat them,” Ved replied, his little face flushed with anger and confusion.
Virat rubbed his forehead, feeling the weight of every word he’d once taught his son about pride and loyalty. How could he explain the complexities of broken relationships, of promises that were never honored, and how betrayal could come from people you once trusted deeply?
“Ved, I’m not trying to disrespect our country. I love it as much as I ever have. But some people in the board—the ones in charge of who plays and who doesn’t—they treated me in ways that were… hurtful. They didn’t respect me, even though I worked hard for them. So I’m playing somewhere else for now. It doesn’t mean I love India any less.”
But Ved’s face didn’t soften. If anything, he looked more determined.
“Rohit Uncle, Rahul Uncle, Siraj Uncle—” Ved’s eyes filled with tears as he listed off the names of the people he’d grown up admiring alongside his dad.
“They love you, Papa. They’ve always supported you. But you’re still batting against them. You’re lying, Papa. They don’t hate you. Rohit Uncle asked you to come back the other day -- I heard him! So, why? Why did you leave?”
Each word stung more than the last, and Virat felt a deep helplessness settle over him. He wanted so badly to explain, to make his little boy see that life sometimes forces choices upon you, even when they hurt. But what words could he use to show a six-year-old the wounds that lay hidden under his resilient exterior?
“Ved…” He exhaled heavily, unable to find a simple way to explain the complexity of it all. He tried again,
“Look, baa, it’s not that simple. The people I’m talking about… they aren’t the same as Rohit Uncle or Rahul Uncle. They’re people you haven’t met, tum unko nhi jaante, aap nhi samjhoge” He placed his hand gently on Ved’s shoulder, his voice soft.
“Ved, trust me. I would never lie to you.”
But Ved was relentless, his innocent eyes filled with defiance. “Tho samjhaao na. Sach bataiye! Otherwise, how can I trust you?” The boy’s face crumpled as he pulled away from Virat’s grasp, too young to understand yet too hurt to ignore.
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A Piece Of My Heart (Ft. Virushka) 💖
Fanfiction"Don't touch me" Anushka hissed at him. "I won't, lay down. You need rest" he said. "What did you call me, 'Anu'?" She asked suspiciously. "Look Anushka, I don't want to keep you in darkness" Virat said , dragging the chair and sitting beside her be...
