𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

As the next IPL season approached, anticipation buzzed through the cricketing world. Teams strategized, players prepared, and Mithra found herself stepping into a new role. This time, she had been appointed as the commentator and media coordinator for Royal Challengers Bangalore (RCB) for the 2023 season.

Excitement and a sense of responsibility welled up within Mithra as she embraced this fresh opportunity. The prospect of working closely with a new team brought a mix of nerves and enthusiasm. She packed her bags, ready to embark on the journey to support and capture the vibrant spirit of RCB.

Arriving in Bangalore, Mithra was greeted by the dynamic energy of the city and the buzz surrounding the upcoming IPL season. She quickly settled into her responsibilities, coordinating media interactions, arranging interviews, and capturing behind-the-scenes moments that would add depth to the narrative of the cricketing season.

The RCB squad, including familiar faces like Virat Kohli and a host of new talents, welcomed Mithra into their fold. As she engaged with the players during practice sessions and team events, the camaraderie that defined the cricketing world became evident once again.

One day, after a rigorous practice session, Virat approached Mithra with a grin. "Hi hi hi!" he exclaimed pulling Mithra into a hug as he welcomed her to the RCB family. "We're thrilled to have you on board. Let me know if you need anything."

Mithra, grateful for the warm welcome, replied, "Thank you, Virat. I'm excited to be here. Looking forward to a great season with RCB."

The days leading up to the first match were a whirlwind of preparations, media interactions, and capturing the essence of the team. Mithra's lens framed the intensity of practice, the laughter shared among teammates, and the determination in their eyes.

As the first match day dawned, Mithra felt a familiar thrill in the air. The stadium echoed with the cheers of fans, and the players donned their RCB jerseys with pride. Mithra, microphone in hand, was ready to bring the audience closer to the heart of the game.

The IPL 2023 season unfolded with its own set of stories, victories, and challenges. Mithra's commentary added depth to the viewer's experience, and her role as a media coordinator facilitated seamless interactions between the team and the press.

One evening when Mithra was sorting out some boxes at her place, she came across old photos of her and Shubman from their childhood, back in Chandigarh. She found pictures of them as 8 years old, playing with a ball, then them as 15-year-olds when they were painting and smearing paint on each other's faces. 

Then a final one of when they were 18 years old, and it was taken at the airport when Shubman dropped her off. The more she went through other pictures, the more tears welled up in her eyes, when she realized how much she and Shubman had drifted apart, especially after Shubman got into a relationship.

"Do I throw out everything we built or keep it?" she muttered to herself, as she wiped away the tears hastily.

She realized she always put him in front of her. How she was always there to help him no matter what, when or where. No matter what she was going through. No matter how much work she was piled up with.

As Mithra sifted through the pile of old photographs, her mind wandered back to the countless memories she and Shubman had shared. Yet, amidst the warm recollections, there were also echoes of moments stained with hurt and resentment. 

Her fingers trembled as she stumbled upon a faded picture of them as children, arms intertwined, smiled wide. But the memory that accompanied it was not one of bliss, but of a harsh word uttered by Shubman in a fit of frustration. "You're such a klutz, Mithra! Can't you do anything right?"

The sting of those words, uttered so carelessly by her childhood friend, still resonated within her. At the time, she had brushed it off, chalking it up to childish bickering. But now, in the quiet solitude of her apartment, the memory cut deeper than she cared to admit.

Her gaze lingered on the photograph, her mind replaying the scene with startling clarity. "Why did you always have to be so cruel, Shubman?" she whispered to herself, the words heavy with unresolved emotions.

As if in response, another image flashed before her eyes, this time from their teenage years. Shubman's voice rang out in her mind, filled with disdain as he scoffed at her latest artistic creation. "Seriously, Mithra? Are you even trying, or are you just pretending to be an artist?"

The memory struck like a blow to the chest, a painful reminder of the times she had been belittled and dismissed by the one person she trusted most. "I always brushed it off," she mused aloud, her voice tinged with a mixture of sadness and frustration. "But maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe I should have stood up for myself. And here I am. Mending all my gashes."

The realization hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over the cherished memories of their friendship. Yet, amidst the turmoil of conflicting emotions, there was a glimmer of clarity. For the first time, Mithra began to see their relationship through a different lens, one that acknowledged not only the love and camaraderie they shared but also the wounds left by careless words and thoughtless actions.

With a sigh, she set the photograph aside, her heart heavy with unresolved questions and unspoken truths. The decision to confront the past, to reconcile the pain with the joy, would not be an easy one. But as she stared down at the scattered remnants of their shared history, Mithra knew that it was a journey she could no longer postpone.

As Mithra sat amidst the scattered photographs, a wave of conflicting emotions washed over her. Despite the hurtful memories, there remained a deep-rooted affection for Shubman that she couldn't deny. He had been more than just a childhood friend; he had been her confidant, her partner in mischief, her closest ally.

With a sigh, she reached for another photograph, this one capturing a moment of unbridled laughter between them. Their faces were illuminated with genuine joy, their bond palpable even through the faded image. "You were my best friend, Shubman. Fuck you still are even though you have been distant," she murmured, the words heavy with longing.

In that moment, the floodgates of memory opened wide, and Mithra found herself engulfed in a tide of cherished moments. She recalled the countless adventures they had embarked upon together, the late-night conversations filled with dreams and aspirations, the silent understanding that had bridged the gap between them.

But alongside the fond reminiscences lurked a sense of betrayal, a gnawing doubt that threatened to unravel the tapestry of their friendship. 

How could someone she had trusted so implicitly have caused her so much pain? 

How could the person she had once considered her closest companion have grown so distant?

As the weight of these questions settled upon her shoulders, Mithra found herself grappling with a profound sense of loss. The realization that their friendship had irrevocably changed filled her with a profound sense of grief as if mourning the passing of an era.

Yet, amidst the turmoil of conflicting emotions, a flicker of hope ignited within her. Perhaps their bond was not beyond repair, she thought, perhaps there was still a chance to bridge the chasm that had grown between them. With determination shining in her eyes, Mithra resolved to confront the ghosts of their shared past, to seek closure where once there had been only uncertainty.

For better or for worse, Shubman had been an integral part of her life, a thread woven into the fabric of her identity. And as she stared down at the remnants of their shared history, Mithra knew that she was not yet ready to let go of the memories that had shaped her into the person she had become.

As Mithra continued to sift through the memories captured in the photographs, a quiet voice within her began to stir, coaxing forth long-buried secrets and unspoken truths.

"You love him, don't you?" the voice whispered, soft and tentative, as if afraid to breach the walls of silence that had long surrounded her heart.

Mithra's breath caught in her throat as she wrestled with the revelation, her fingers trembling as they traced the edges of a particularly poignant photograph. In it, she and Shubman stood side by side, their gazes locked in a moment of unspoken intimacy.

The memory flooded her senses, the warmth of his presence enveloping her like a familiar embrace. "I do. I still do," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to give voice to the truth that had long dwelled in the depths of her soul.

But even as the confession hung in the air, doubt crept in, casting shadows over her fragile vulnerability. "Why didn't you tell him?" another voice demanded, sharp and accusatory, echoing the doubts that had long plagued her.

Mithra's heart clenched at the question, the weight of regret settling heavily upon her shoulders. "I was afraid," she confessed, her voice tinged with sorrow. "Afraid of ruining our friendship, of losing him forever."

The words hung between them, a silent acknowledgement of the sacrifices she had made in the name of love. For years, she had buried her feelings deep within her heart, content to bask in the warmth of his friendship rather than risk the uncertainty of romance.

But now, as she stared down at the remnants of their shared past, Mithra couldn't help but wonder if she had made the right choice. If perhaps, by keeping her feelings hidden, she had denied herself the chance at happiness she so desperately craved.

With a heavy sigh, she reached for another photograph, her gaze lingering on the image of their younger selves. "I love you, Shubman," she whispered, the words a silent confession to the winds of time. "And now, it's late to tell you."

One day as the sun began to set over the city skyline, casting a warm golden glow over the bustling streets below, Shubman and Aria found themselves caught up in a heated argument. They stood on the balcony of their apartment, their voices rising and falling in a tumultuous symphony of emotions.

"I can't believe you're still going on about this, Aria," Shubman exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone as he ran a hand through his hair. "I told you, it's not a big deal."

Aria's eyes flashed with anger as she crossed her arms over her chest, her brow furrowed in irritation. "Not a big deal? Shubman, you promised me you would be there tonight," she retorted, her voice tinged with disappointment. "This was important to me, and you bailed at the last minute."

Shubman sighed, the weight of her words sinking heavily in his chest. He knew he had messed up, but try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to apologize. "I'm sorry, okay? I got caught up with practice, and I lost track of time," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration.

Aria shook her head, her expression hardening with resolve. "That's not good enough, Shubman. I need you to be there for me, to support me when I need you the most," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

Before Shubman could respond, his attention was drawn to a scene unfolding below on the street. He watched as Mithra, Siraj, and Virat walked arm in arm, their laughter filling the air as they exchanged playful banter.

Shubman's heart clenched at the sight, a pang of jealousy coursing through him as he watched Mithra's infectious smile light up her face. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret at the realization that he had let her slip through his fingers, that he had chosen to prioritize his own ambitions over their friendship.

As Mithra playfully swatted Siraj's hand, her laughter echoing in the cool night air, Shubman felt a surge of longing wash over him. He longed to be a part of that carefree moment, to share in the laughter and camaraderie that seemed to come so easily to Mithra and her friends.

But as he turned back to face Aria, the weight of their argument pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket, Shubman knew that he had made his choice. He had chosen Aria, choosing to prioritize their relationship over everything else, even if it meant sacrificing his friendship with Mithra in the process.

And as he reached out to take her hand in his own, offering her a tentative smile of apology, Shubman couldn't shake the lingering feeling of emptiness that gnawed at his insides. But deep down, he knew that no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, a part of him would always yearn for the friendship he had lost.

Meanwhile, as Mithra, Siraj, and Virat continued their playful banter, the atmosphere around them buzzed with energy and laughter. They walked through the bustling streets, their voices mingling with the sounds of the city as they shared stories and inside jokes.

"So, Mithra, have you recovered from that embarrassing moment during the last interview?" Virat teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

Mithra rolled her eyes playfully, swatting Virat's arm in mock anger. "Oh please, that was nothing compared to some of the things you've said on the field," she retorted, a smirk playing on her lips.

Siraj chuckled, his laughter echoing in the cool night air as he shook his head in amusement. "I have to agree with Mithra on this one, Virat. You've definitely had your fair share of memorable moments on the field."

Virat grinned, his smile widening as he nudged Mithra playfully. "Fair point. But hey, at least I keep things interesting, right?"

Mithra, with her characteristic enthusiasm, playfully nudged Siraj's shoulder, teasing, "Siraj, are you sure you can handle the pressure of the next match?"

Siraj, always ready with a quick comeback, smirked, "I'll show you how it's done, Mithra. Just you wait."

Virat chimed in, "Don't underestimate our 'Siraj Express.' He's got surprises up his sleeve."

Just as the banter reached a crescendo, a familiar figure approached with a grin. Glenn Maxwell, the charismatic Australian all-rounder, joined the group, adding another layer of energy to the lively banter.

Maxwell, known for his humor both on and off the field, greeted them with a playful salute. "Well, well, what do we have here? The dynamic trio in action. Mind if I join the party?"

Mithra, Siraj, and Virat welcomed Maxwell with laughter, creating a quartet that seemed to embody the essence of camaraderie in cricket.

Virat, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, introduced Maxwell to the ongoing banter. "Maxi, you're just in time. We're discussing who among us would make the best commentator. Care to weigh in?"

Maxwell, ever the showman, took a moment to play along. "Oh, that's an easy one. Obviously, it's me. I've got the charm, the wit, and the accent. Can't beat that combination."

Mithra, with a theatrical gasp, exclaimed, "Well, well, aren't we confident? Siraj, Virat, what do you say to that?"

Siraj, grinning, replied, "I don't know, Mithra. He might give you a run for your money. But I'll still bet on you."

Virat added, "Maxi, charm and accent aside, Mithra's got the cricketing insight. It's a tough competition."

The banter continued, each participant contributing their share of humour and camaraderie. The quartet, seemingly unaffected by the pressures of the match, created a light-hearted atmosphere that resonated with the spirit of the game.

A few days later the RCB practice session, usually a place buzzing with focused preparation, took an unexpected turn as Siraj playfully decided to chase Mithra around the field. Laughter echoed through the stadium as Mithra, showing surprising agility, darted away from Siraj's good-natured pursuit.

"Come on, Mithra, you can't escape the 'Siraj Express'!" Siraj called out, a playful grin on his face.

Mithra, with a mix of laughter and mock desperation, shouted back, "I'm too fast for you, Siraj! You'll have to catch me first!"

The impromptu game of chase brought a light-hearted atmosphere to the practice session, with other players and staff looking on and joining in the laughter. Virat, Maxwell, and even the usually stoic coaching staff couldn't help but crack smiles at the unexpected spectacle.

Meanwhile, on the periphery of the field, Shubman Gill, practising with the Gujarat Titans, couldn't help but notice the lively commotion near the RCB squad. His gaze lingered on Mithra, her laughter echoing through the stadium as she skillfully evaded Siraj's attempts to catch her.

A sense of nostalgia swept over Shubman as he watched the playful scene unfold. The echoes of their childhood, the carefree days when he and Mithra were inseparable, seemed to resurface in this unexpected moment of joy.

As Mithra continued to navigate the playful pursuit, her eyes caught Shubman's gaze from across the field. A brief exchange of smiles occurred between them, a silent acknowledgement of the shared history that bound them together.

Siraj, undeterred by Mithra's dodging activities, continued the chase with infectious enthusiasm. The onlookers, including the coaching staff and players from both teams, couldn't help but be drawn into the spirited spectacle.

Eventually, Mithra, her energy waning but her laughter unabated, allowed herself to be "caught" by Siraj. The impromptu game ended with shared smiles and a round of applause from those present.

As the laughter subsided and the practice session resumed its more conventional rhythm, Shubman couldn't shake off the warmth that the playful scene had injected into the atmosphere. The cricketing world, with its intense matches and competitive dynamics, often found moments of levity and camaraderie that reminded everyone of the joy inherent in the game.

Amidst the cricketing drills and the echo of cheers from the practice session, Shubman Gill found himself immersed in a moment of introspection. The spontaneous laughter and playful chase between Mithra and Siraj had stirred memories of a time when he and Mithra were inseparable, a time when he was the one chasing her around with carefree abandon.

A wave of nostalgia washed over Shubman as he recalled the days of their childhood, the innocent support that had defined their friendship. He couldn't help but think of the countless hours spent playing, laughing, and creating memories that seemed to transcend the boundaries of time.

In the midst of his reflections, Shubman recognized a sense of longing, a realization that the dynamics of their friendship had evolved over the years. The demands of professional cricket, the geographical distances, and the complexities of their individual journeys had, bit by bit, created a subtle distance between him and Mithra.

As he continued his practice with the Gujarat Titans, the echo of Mithra's laughter lingered in his mind, a reminder of the genuine joy that had once characterized their friendship. Shubman couldn't help but wonder when and how the shifts had occurred, leading them down separate paths.

The realization brought a touch of melancholy, and Shubman contemplated the nature of change within relationships. The cricketing world, with its ever-changing dynamics, had propelled them on distinct trajectories, and he questioned whether the bonds of childhood camaraderie could withstand the test of time and transformation.

In a brief moment of respite, Shubman decided to seize the opportunity to reconnect. He made his way toward the RCB practice area, a subtle determination in his stride. The echoes of laughter and camaraderie guided him, and as he approached Mithra, Siraj, and the others, he felt a mixture of anticipation and nostalgia.

"Mithra!" Shubman called out, a warm smile playing on his lips. Mithra, turning to face him, greeted him with a genuine smile. "Shubman! Long time, huh?"

Shubman nodded, the unspoken acknowledgement of the time that had passed between them. "Yeah, too long. That chase brought back some memories."

Mithra's eyes twinkled with a shared understanding. "The good old days, huh? Things change, but some memories stay etched in our hearts."

As they exchanged a few more words, a subtle reassurance settled within Shubman. The cricketing world, with its ebbs and flows, victories and challenges, had a way of bringing people back together, if only for a moment. Shubman cherished the realization that while paths may diverge, the threads of shared history could still weave through the fabric of the present.

With a promise to catch up more, Shubman returned to his practice, carrying with him a renewed appreciation for the enduring bonds that had shaped his cricketing journey, both on and off the field.