When Rahul first entered the Indian Cricket Team during the Test series, everything felt new but manageable.
Rohit wasn’t around then. The Test squad had a different rhythm, a quieter intensity, and Rahul found Virat.
Virat made it easy—talkative, encouraging, always pulling Rahul into conversations. Nets turned into long discussions about batting, pressure, and random jokes. Somewhere along the way, bonding just… happened. Rahul didn’t even realize when Virat became his safe space in the team.
By the time the One Day series rolled around, Rohit joined the squad.
Rahul noticed him immediately.
Rohit Sharma had that presence—effortless, calm, commanding without trying. Rahul didn’t approach him though. He observed from a distance, slightly awestruck, slightly intimidated. Rohit laughed loudly with Shikhar, teased Kuldeep and Yuzi, casually slung an arm around Hardik’s shoulders, exchanged quiet looks and silent conversation with Jasprit. He seemed surrounded at all times, perfectly at ease.
Rahul stayed where he was—mostly beside Virat.
In the initial weeks, Rahul didn’t talk much to Rohit. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t know how to. Rohit felt too… settled. Too senior. Rahul was still figuring out where he fit.
From Rohit’s side, Rahul appeared quiet. Polite. Reserved. Rohit assumed he was just introverted, the kind who kept to himself. And that was fine. Rohit already had his hands full—juniors constantly asking questions, friends pulling him into banter, responsibilities piling up without announcement.
He noticed Rahul’s closeness with Virat, though.
And he was fine with it.
Virat was good like that—he looked after people.
Still, sometimes Rohit sometimes caught Rahul watching from the sidelines, eyes flickering toward him before quickly looking away. Rohit didn’t read too much into it.
Weeks passed like that.
Occasionally, Rahul found himself wondering why Rohit hadn’t tried talking to him the way he did with other juniors. Was he too distant? Did Rohit not like him? Or did Rahul simply fade into the background when surrounded by louder personalities?
The thought lingered longer than Rahul liked to admit.
One evening, after a particularly long practice session, Rahul sat alone, re-tying his laces far slower than necessary. Most of the team had already left.
“Still here?”
Rahul looked up to find Rohit standing there, bat resting on his shoulder.
Rahul blinked. “Yeah… just finishing up.”
Rohit nodded, settling beside him easily. “You’re doing well, you know.”
Rahul smiled, surprised. “Thanks.”
A brief pause followed—comfortable, not awkward.
“So you can talk ha ...I thought you preferred keeping to yourself,” Rohit admitted casually. “so didn’t push.”
Rahul let out a small laugh. “I thought you were too busy to notice.”
Rohit smiled at that, warm and genuine. “I notice more than people think.”
Something eased in Rahul’s chest then.
The intimidation faded, replaced by something simpler.
Comfort.
From that day on, conversations came naturally—not forced, not dramatic. Just two people finding their rhythm, a little late but right on time.
And Rahul realized sometimes silence wasn’t distance.
It was just waiting for the right moment.
