The sun dipped low over the Central Broward Regional Park in North America, casting a golden hue on the cricket ground. The T20 World Series had kicked off, and the air buzzed with anticipation. The Indian team, led by the ever-calm Rahul Dravid, faced their arch-rivals, Australia. Pat Cummins, the Australian captain, smirked, relishing memories of their recent World Cup victory. But Dravid's voice cut through the tension, "Calm down, lads. Our power lies in our batting and fielding. Let's show them."

The dressing room erupted with energy. Players adjusted their gear, nerves and adrenaline intertwining. The wives arrived, their eyes reflecting a mix of pride and anxiety. Avneet stepped forward. "Shub," she whispered, "remember your World Cup mistakes. Perform well today."

Shubman nodded, his fingers brushing her lips in a fleeting kiss. Avneet made her way to the VIP box, clutching Shubman's phone. Suhana settled beside her. "He gave you his phone?" Suhana asked, eyebrows raised.

Avneet grinned. "Yeah, and I know his password too. We're an open book, you see, Ms. Khan."

Anushka joined them. "Suhana," she chided, "watch the match. Or I'll call Shahrukh and spill your secrets. Remember, I was his co-star in those blockbuster movies."

Suhana squirmed, cheeks flushing. Avneet exchanged a knowing smile with Anushka. Suddenly, Vamika scampered over. "Chachi!" she exclaimed, her tiny voice echoing through the box.

Natasha, Athiya, and Ritika gathered around. Avneet was enveloped by the kids, their excitement contagious. The toss was done, and India chose to bowl. David Warner and Steven Smith strode to the crease.

Bumrah, the magician with the ball, took the first over. Vamika's high-pitched voice rang out, "Bumbum!" Samaira corrected her, "It's not Bumbum, Vamika. It's Bumrah chachu."

The first ball—a dot. The second—a deceptive yorker, but Smith smashed it for a six. The Australians dared to hope. As the over ended with 20 runs for no loss, Virat Kohli declared, "Hum, Shami ko bhejenge."

Shami, the seasoned bowler, nodded. He muttered a silent prayer and sent the ball hurtling toward Smith. Another six. But then, Shubman leaped, defying gravity, and clung to the ball. The commentator's voice crackled, "Shubman Gill has caught it! But will he land inside the boundary?"

Mid-air acrobatics, heartbeats suspended, and then—success! Shubman landed safely. The Indian contingent erupted in cheers. Shahneel, Avneet's brother, hugged her. "Kake, he caught it!"

Avneet beamed. "I know, di. He'll shine this time." Suhana chimed in, "Of course, he's brilliant."

Avneet rolled her eyes playfully. The match continued. Smith was dismissed, and in walked Maxwell. Avneet's silent prayer echoed, "Bhagvan, let him go for a duck. Spare us the centuries."

And then, the commentator's voice—music to her ears, "Maxwell dismissed for a duck by Shami. What a wicket for India!"

Avneet's smile widened. The target was set: 230. A mountain to climb, but the Indian Cricket Team had the spirit, the fire, and the will to conquer.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the cricket ground. The T20 match between India and Australia crackled with intensity. Rohit Sharma and Shubman Gill strode out as the Indian openers. The commentator's voice echoed, "Here comes the dynamic duo—Rohit Sharma and Shubman Gill."

Rohit settled into position. The first ball, delivered by Marnus Labuschagne, met Rohit's bat, and the crowd erupted as it raced to the boundary—a resounding four. Rohit sprinted for a single, leaving the stage to Shubman.

Shubman faced the next delivery. The ball soared into the air, and he held his breath. "Please, not out," he whispered. Travis Head, the Australian fielder, leaped, but the ball slipped through his fingers. The commentator quipped, "I guess Shubman Gill has a lucky star today."

Shubman's eyes found Avneet in the stands. Her reassuring nod fueled his determination. Vamika chimed in, "Chachu, vely big six!"

Avneet beamed, and Shubman stepped up again. This time, he launched the ball out of the stadium, defying gravity. Vamika and Agastya clapped, chanting, "Chachu, hit six!"

But then, Rohit departed. Virat Kohli joined Shubman, and the stadium buzzed with anticipation. Shubman unleashed a barrage of sixes and fours, each shot resonating with power and purpose.

The commentator's voice cut through the tension, "Shubman Gill needs 6 more runs for a century and 10 more to secure victory in just 10 balls."

Shubman focused on the incoming delivery. Mitchell Starc, the Australian bowler, charged in. The ball soared, and Shubman swung. It sailed over the boundary—a magnificent six! His century was etched in the record books. He bowed, a unique gesture, directed at Avneet.

Avneet clapped, pride swelling in her chest. The match raged on, and Virat added another six. Victory was imminent. Avneet and Shahneel, her brother, leaped, their joy uncontainable. The commentator declared, "The Player of the Match—Shubman Gill!"

In the post-match interview, Shubman faced the microphone. "How did you manage that six against Mitchell Starc?" the commentator asked.

"It was all about confidence," Shubman replied. "I knew I could do it."

"And your rigorous practice sessions?" the commentator probed.

"Practice matters," Shubman emphasized. "Each and every practice session counts and matters. Before every practice session you should know why are you going for practice, what is your aim and that is what I to do – have purposeful practice sessions."

"Any special mentions?" the commentator pressed.

Shubman's gratitude spilled forth. "My parents, Keart Gill and Lakwinder Singh. My crazy yet loving sister, Shahneel Gill. And my rock—my wife, Mrs. Avneet Kaur Gill. Her unwavering support fuels my fire."

Avneet rushed to him, wrapping him in a hug. "Thank you, Neet," Shubman whispered. "Your words propelled me."

Shahneel teased, "You called me crazy, but I'll forgive you this time."

Shubman chuckled, changed into comfortable clothes, and retreated to the team hotel. Vamika gazed up at him, her eyes wide and trusting. "Chachu," she declared, "you hit a vely big six. You ale the best!"

Virat couldn't resist. "Vami," he chimed in, "papa is the best." But Vamika's determination held firm. "No," she insisted, "chachu is the best."

Avneet joined the friendly banter. "Vami," she said, "first papa is the best, and then chachu." But Vamika's stubbornness knew no bounds. Tears welled up, and Shubman stepped in. "Accha," he soothed, "I am the best. Now stop crying."

He tried to console her, but the tears persisted. Hiccups followed, and Anushka couldn't help but tease. "Can't you accept what she says, Vi?"

Gradually, the hiccups subsided, and Vamika nestled into Shubman's chest. Her breathing evened out, and she drifted into slumber. Avneet leaned close, whispering, "You look so adorable with her."

Shubman's smile held a universe of pride. Anushka gently took Vamika, who stirred but settled back into sleep. As the hotel quieted, Shubman and Avneet retreated to their room.

Avneet rested her head on Shubman's chest, wrapping her arms around him. He mirrored the embrace, their hearts in sync. In the cocoon of love and victory, they slept—a team within a team, bound by more than just cricket. 

Hello guys,

how are you? I hope enjoying the story. I am in totally in love with the bow that Shubman does and I am obsessed with it. He caught my attention with that bow. 😁😁

I know it sounds weird that way but I fell very hard for it and now I am obsessed.

See you guys

Love you❤️❤️