February, 2018

Trring! Trrring!

"Here, what on earth do you mean by driving at this maniac pace?" yelled a passerby in suburban Chennai, jumping out of the way of a flying cycle.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Seventeen-year-old Driksha Karthik trringed her cycle's bell some more and did not slow down as she went around the corner.

She could not slow down. It was truly a wonder she'd not knocked anyone by the time she was sprinting up the stairs of a comfortable, lavishly furnished staircase till she burst into the room of her destination.

"BHAIYA! AM I DREAMING?"

"Driks-"

"DID SOMEONE HACK THE INTERNET OR DID MY FAVOURITE TEAM IN THE UNIVERSE REALLY BUY YOU?"

Her cousin brother-who was quite like an uncle instead of a brother since he was so much older, a very cool, loving one, too-waited for her to calm down.

"BHAIYA, AM I DREAMING?"

"No, you're not," said DK patiently. "And I'm, um, in a meeting-"

Too late.

Driksha had hurled herself into his arms, squeezing his neck strong enough to cut off his windpipe. She had not noticed that the videocam of the laptop in front of them was open.

"This is just too brilliant for words. MY KKR BOUGHT MY BROTHER."

"Driksha, sweetheart, I'm in a meeting," said DK, still patiently, very aware that the CEO and new players of his new team were gazing at the scene through the Google Meet.

Now she noticed, glancing up at the laptop screen in alarm.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she whispered, ducking out of range of the camera. "Who's it with?"

"See for yourself," whispered back DK. "But for heaven's sake, be quiet."

Driksha peered at the participants of the meeting, careful to stay out of range. 

Venky Mysore, Robin Uthappa, Kuldeep Yadav...

Oh, holy heavens above. It was her team. It was her brother's new team.

It seemed to be an introductory session. The newcomers of the team interacting with the old ones.

"Now for our three under-19 heroes, Shivam Mavi and Kamlesh Nagarkoti, joint second-highest wicket takers and Shubman Gill, highest run scorer of the tournament," the CEO Venky Mysore was saying.

Driksha, who had caught a bit of the under-19 knockout matches beamed at the screen, not realizing she was in range of the camera once again since she was leaning in so far.

What a great team KKR was building this year, even thought Gautam Gambhir, her favourite player for all eternity, had bowed out. He wanted to play for his hometown one last season before retiring from the IPL. She would miss him, and Manish Pandey and Suryakumar Yadav and all the guys they'd lost. But she already knew she would love the new team with all her heart.

Imagine-her own bhaiya in KKR.

Then-

"And though we're not making the announcement to the public till later, our captain will be DK, and vice captain will be Robbie," the CEO said.

"Captain," repeated Driksha blankly.

"Don't shout," warned DK in a horrified whisper.

Too late again.

His sister had shot up on the bed, screaming herself hoarse for all the world to hear.

"MY BROTHER IS THE CAPTAIN OF KOLKATA KNIGHT RIDERS. TAKE THAT, YOU ALL, TAKE THAT!"

"Driksh, get down, you'll-" 

She jumped, forgetting she was tall and already standing on the bed and the fan was whirring overhead.

A tremendous bang-

Driksha screamed and collapsed on the bed, her fingers clutched to her chest.

A terror-struck DK bent over her anxiously, "Did you hurt yourself? Oh god, you idiot, look how much you're bleeding."

Luckily the blades seemed to only have grazed her fingers and not cut cleanly though them. Even so, the front of her shirt was already soaked in red.

DK mumbled in the meeting, "I'll be right back," and left it, too worried about his sister to wallow in the horror that he'd been forced to leave a meeting with the CEO right after he'd been announced captain.

"It's my right hand, bhaiya, it's my right hand," Driksha was wailing.

"I'll bandage it up, wait." DK had got up and hunting for the first-aid kits, wondering where they'd kept it. "It will soon heal."

"What will I do without my right hand?"

"Your Boards are two months away," said DK, trying to sound comforting. "You'll be fine long before that. Two weeks at max."

"But I can't write," she wailed. "I can't live two weeks without writing!"

DK thought his Aunt would be glad if her daughter was kept from storywriting two weeks when she ought to be preparing for her class XII finals. It was a tussle they never seemed to get over: Driksha wanted to be a writer and considered science, maths and history a waste of time. Aunty, obviously, thought the reverse.

But DK felt sorry for her anyway.

"Keep storing up the ideas in your mind till then," he said. "Afterwards you'll have plenty of time to write them down."

"How will I note down my ideas? What if I forget them?"

"I'll note them down, all right? You just tell me over call, or come over." He'd finally found the medicine box and was now cutting a length of gauze.

"All right," said Driksha. "Thank you, bhaiya, I love you. You know I love you, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I know that," said DK, exasperated. "Hold out that hand now."

Driksha held out her bleeding fingers meekly.

"In this fan fiasco I almost forgot-you're KKR's captain! YOU ARE KKR'S CAPTAIN!"

DK had a feeling he'd be hearing this line rather too many times in the near future.