Shadows Of The Stumps

Chapter - 92

Day three of the India vs. Australia Test match began under a cloudless sky, the sun beating down mercilessly on the field. The stakes couldn’t have been higher for the Indian team. The haunting memory of their recent whitewash at home hung over them like a shadow, and while they had clawed their way back into the match, the scars of doubt ran deep.

The scoreboard showed India at no loss, thanks to a stellar opening partnership between KL Rahul and Yashasvi Jaiswal. It was a promising start to the second innings after a disastrous 150 all-out in the first. Australia had been bowled out for a mere 104 in response, but the pressure was far from alleviated.

In the absence of their captain, Rohit Sharma—who had left to be with Ritika and their newborn baby—the team leaned on Jasprit Bumrah to lead. It was a heavy burden, but Bumrah carried it with his characteristic calm. Still, everyone knew it would take more than steady leadership to silence the critics.

Meera sat in the dugout, flanked by Shubman Gill, Ravindra Jadeja, and Ravichandran Ashwin. She toyed with her ID card, her eyes glued to KL Rahul at the crease. Rahul was calm and focused his bat speaking volumes as he meticulously dismantled the Australian attack.

Her thoughts, however, were far from the game. She couldn’t shake the memory of the vitriol Rahul had endured just weeks ago. His form slump had drawn relentless criticism, and things had taken a turn for the worse when he was attacked off the field. The physical wounds had healed, but the emotional scars lingered.

Beside her, Shubman nudged her shoulder. “Kya soch rahi ho, di?”

Startled, Meera blinked and turned to him. “Nothing,” she muttered.

Shubman smirked. “Di, you playing with your ID card means you’re either overthinking or someone broke your security protocols. Spill it.”

Ashwin chuckled. “Exactly. When Meera goes quiet, it’s either a disaster or a breakthrough. Which one is it?”

Meera sighed, leaning back. “I was just thinking about Rahul anna. Everything he’s been through lately… it’s been brutal. And now look at him—out there proving everyone wrong.”

Jadeja leaned forward, his tone reassuring. “Rahul has done well even under pressure. Today is his moment, Meera. He’s showing everyone what he’s made of.”

A cheer erupted from the crowd, drawing their attention back to the field. Rahul had reached his fifty with a crisp boundary. He raised his bat to the crowd, his expression calm and composed, but there was a flicker of emotion in his eyes.

Meera jumped up, clapping furiously, her face lighting up with pride as her brother acknowledged the crowd with a subtle wave of his bat. The others in the dugout smiled knowingly, watching her celebration.

“Looks like you’re finally relaxing, Meera,” Ashwin teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Can you blame her?” Shubman chimed in, leaning back with a grin. “Her anna just silenced an entire army of critics with his performance.”

Jadeja added with a chuckle, “And he’s not done yet. I bet he’s aiming for a hundred.”

Meera sat back down, her hands still clutching her ID card. Her heart swelled with pride, but her thoughts weren’t entirely settled. She glanced toward Virat again. He stood rooted in place, his eyes fixed on the field, his face genuinely happy as he clapped for Rahul and yet there was something that kept weighing him down.

“He’s still beating himself up, isn’t he?” Meera asked, nodding toward Virat.

Shubman followed her gaze. “Yeah, he is. You know how bhaiya is—he holds himself accountable for everything, even when it’s not his fault.”