MS Dhoni and the useless one shots I like to come up with

Better be the sinner, than be the victim

It hurts to be the wrong doer, but it hurts worse to be the wronged.

 "No, I don't speak to MS Dhoni. When I was playing for CSK, that's when we spoke, but otherwise we haven't spoken. It's been ten years and more. I have no reason; perhaps he does. I don't know what the reasons are."

"You know very well there aren't any,".

That was the first thing his mind had brought up as soon as he had seen the thing. Sure MS was never on social media as much. But he was very much in the know of everything that went around. Perhaps it was Sakshi's habit of telling him every single thing to happen on God's slowly ungreening world, or his brain's habit of downloading even the most insignificant details of whatever was happening around him. But either way Mahi just came to know of things, sometimes he too wouldn't be aware how.

He would come to know of things.

Especially things said about him. And look, he was an expert, a master even, at weeding unnecessary things said but irrelevant people away. But some people were never going to be irrelevant to him. They had touched his life and touched his life in a big manner. Yes he knew there were some misunderstandings on both ends. Yes he knew that there were some things he could have done different.

But for people who claim to wear their hearts on sleeves, they sure hid a lot from him. He had never done the same. They should know he had never done the same. Sure he kept his anger in check, his opinions unvoiced, his hurt unanounced. But he had never held ill will, grudges, resentment or the like for anyone! Anyone. And they knew that. They should know that. They had seen him grow from a dumb and naive kid to a seasoned captain. They had seen what both the World Cups of 2007 had been like for him.

People thought he hid everything as if it was second nature. But he didn't. It was something he had learnt over time. Something he had perfected over time. They had been right there when he had been learning. Right there when his walls had been imperfect and see through.

They had chosen to not see. They had chosen to ignore. They hadn't deemed the quiet weird kid in the corner as worthy of space in their brain far before he had become the captain and especially after he had become the captain. Maybe they had been afraid that they would resent him if they thought about him too much apart from the guy with whom they could occasionally crack jokes with; they may resent him for stepping over them... ahead of them.

And then when things weren't so light hearted and funny anymore, when it had become the question of Team India or them... what had they expected him to do? Maybe he should have made the first step and just answered all their unasked question of WHY, Why they couldn't keep on going on the same way... but also, they could have just asked. They should have just asked. Maybe he wasn't a man who took the first step but he sure as hell went all the fucking way in if someone just indicated they would like him to!

It wasn't like he had never seen Bhajji be considerate, caring, thoughtful even. He had. He had heard Yuvraj talk about how often Bhajji would call and distract him during his chemotherapy. He had heard Bhajji talk of their captain, their Dada with light in his eyes, both of humor and respect. He had seen how much of his extravagant energy he tamped down when talking to Gauti or Rahul Bhai.

He knew Bhajji could be considerate, but apparently he was exempt from the people who deserved that. They had never asked. He had never approached. Neither wrong, neither right, two sides of the same coin. Even former best friends could be considerate enough to grant him the reprieve and believe there is no ill will, no grudge from his side either. 

But apparently even that was not visible to his former teammate.

He wanted to say it felt unfair, unjust, wrong. But it didn't feel right. It didn't feel like it was right to feel wronged. Maybe he was wrong.

It didn't change the feelings that would stir nastily but to temper the ugly flames of his heart, it was the only thing he could say. Maybe he was wrong. For what he didn't know. But he just was. It was easier to smile at them this way. To laugh at their little jokes whenever they ran across each other. To make small talk and inquire about kids whose lives he could have been a part of had he been a better man somehow.

Because otherwise, he would be right and they would be wrong and it would be so much harder when IPL would roll around and he would hear that faithful "Oi MS!" in the friendliest of tones and he might have to pretend to smile, to laugh, to talk as if every second wasn't hurting his heart.

He was terrible at pretending.

It was better to be wrong. 

.

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A/n: Short I know. But saw a reel of that one Bhajji interview when he was talking about how he doesn't speak to Mahi anymore.

I tried to be fair while writing this. But it hurt more than I can care to admit.