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Cricket. In many countries, Cricket is a sport. In India, Cricket is a religion. The passion and love for Cricket you will find in India is unparalleled.

Sachin Tendulkar, the God of Cricket. Virat Kohli, King Kohli. Rohit Sharma, the Hitman. And MS Dhoni, lovingly known as Thala.

These are just a few of the legends who have cemented their place in the hearts of millions of Indian cricket fans. And then there are the rising stars, the young guns who carry the hopes and dreams of a nation on their shoulders.

Cricket is no mere sport in India; it's a way of life, a fervent devotion that binds the country together. Religion doesn't matter, caste doesn't matter, and neither does socioeconomic status—when it comes to cricket, every Indian is united in their passion and love for the game.

Every stadium becomes a temple, every match a ritual of worship, and every player a deity worshipped by adoring fans. The fans cry when the cricketers cry, the fans laugh when the cricketers laugh, and the fans celebrate as if they had hit the winning six. This is the magic of cricket in India.

The fans view the players as their own family. This is why they express their anger and disappointment when a player doesn't perform up to their expectations.

"Ishan Kishan departs for 59. An innings of disappointment and frustration for the young player," Ravi Shastri's voice echoes throughout the silent changing room.

Ishan could feel every muscle in his body tense as Ravi Shastri's words reverberated through the cavernous space of the changing room. Disappointment weighed heavy on his shoulders, a crushing burden that threatened to suffocate him.

It was the highlight of today's match, and yet the pain of his failure still felt raw, like an open wound that refused to heal. He had batted well, or so he had thought, but in the end, it wasn't enough. The scoreboard had told the harsh truth: 59 runs, a half-century, but how could a half-century compare to the taste of a double?

The weight of expectation hung heavy around his neck like a millstone, threatening to drag him down into the depths of despair. He had dreamed of this moment since he was a boy, the chance to represent his country on the cricketing field, to be hailed as a hero by millions of adoring fans.

But now, faced with the harsh reality of failure, Ishan felt like a fraud, an imposter masquerading as a cricketer.

What right did he have to call himself a professional player when he couldn't even deliver when it mattered most?

"Cheeku, tu mujhse woh khaega." [Cheeku, you will get that by me.]

"Tu maarke toh dikha, Panda, tera khana band kar doon ga." [Hit me and see, Panda, I will stop your meals.]

Virat and Rohit's banter rings throughout the changing room, their voices a welcome distraction from Ishan's spiraling thoughts. Ishan's Virat bhaiyya and Rohit bhaiyya, the pillars of the Indian cricket team, the two who Ishan looked up to with a mix of awe and admiration.

He admired Virat bhaiyya's unwavering determination, his relentless pursuit of excellence that had propelled him to the pinnacle of the cricketing world.

Despite the pressure and scrutiny that came with being the former captain of the Indian cricket team, Virat bhaiyya never wavered in his commitment to the game.

And then there was Rohit bhaiyya, the Hitman, the captain of the Indian cricket team, whose effortless elegance and sheer talent had earned him a legion of fans across the globe.

Ishan had watched in awe as Rohit bhaiyya rewrote the record books time and time again, his ability to score big runs in crucial moments making him a true match-winner.

Ishan knew that he had much to learn from both of them, not just on the field but off it as well. But what he could never learn from them was their unyielding mental fortitude, their ability to shrug off failure and bounce back stronger than ever.

"Ishu, mere bache, tu bata. Kya main mota ho raha hoon?" [Ishu, my child, tell me. Am I getting fat?]

The sound of his Rohit bhaiyya calling out his name pierced through Ishan's thoughts, drawing his attention back to the present. He looked up to see Rohit bhaiyya standing before him, a mock look of annoyance and anger.

"Haan bol de Ishan, " Virat bhaiyya teases, his arm going around an annoyed Rohit. "Warna yeh Panda aaj practice karne nahi jayega." [Say yes Ishan, or else this Panda will not go to practice for today.]

Ishan knows what they are trying to do—lighten the mood, distract him from his disappointment—but he can't shake the weight of failure that hangs over him like a dark cloud. He manages a weak smile, attempting to play along with their banter, but it feels forced, unnatural.

"Haan haan, bhaiyya," Ishan replies, his voice lacking its usual enthusiasm. "Aap bilkul mota ho rahe hain. Ek dum sumo wrestler jaise lag rahe hain." [Yes yes, bhaiyya. You are getting really fat. You look like a sumo wrestler.]

Rohit bhaiyya feigns outrage, his expression morphing into mock indignation. "Kya kaha tune, Ishu?" [What did you say, Ishu?]

"Aapko sumo wrestler bola, Ro bhai." [He called you a sumo wrestler, Ro bhai.]

Shubman, always ready to add fuel to the fire, chimes in from across the room, his laughter ringing out like a peal of bells. Shubman and his antics never failed to bring a smile to Ishan's face, no matter how heavy his heart felt.

Ishan scoffs at Shubman's comment, shaking his head at his best friend. "Gaddari karbe." [You dare betray me.]

Shubman's laughter fills the room, a welcome respite from the heavy atmosphere that had settled over Ishan like a suffocating blanket. Despite his best efforts, Ishan couldn't help but crack a smile at Shubman's laugh.

"Tu yaha kyu baitha ha? Chal na Sky bhai ko prank karke aate hai," Shubman slaps Ishan's shoulder, his eyes twinkling mischievously. [Why are you sitting here? Come on, let's go prank Sky bhai.]

Pranks and Ishan go hand in hand. The boy is a prankster extraordinaire, always ready with a mischievous scheme to lighten the mood and bring laughter to those around him. And as much as Ishan appreciated Shubman's efforts to cheer him up, he couldn't shake the weight of disappointment that still lingered in his heart.

"Abhi nahi, Shubhi" Ishan replies, his voice tinged with resignation. "Abhi mera mood nahi hai." [Not now Shubhi, maybe later. I'm really not in the mood right now.]

Shubman's smile faltered for a moment, his playful demeanor giving way to concern as he looks up at Virat and Rohit for guidance.

Ishan is always smiling, always the life of the party, the one who lifts everyone's spirits with his infectious laughter and boundless energy. Seeing him like this, subdued and defeated, was like a punch to the gut.

Rohit and Virat glance at each other, years of their failed experiences and shared struggles speaking volumes in the silent exchange of looks. Ishan, Rishabh, and Shubman are the babies in Rohit and Virat's eyes, and Ishan is the jaan of the Indian Cricket team.

Rohit and Virat have always treated Ishan like a son more than a teammate. They knew Ishan needed more than just jokes and pranks to lift his spirits—he needed reassurance, support, and above all, belief in himself.

Rohit bhaiyya's expression softens as he crouches down in front of Ishan, his eyes meeting Ishan's with a gentle intensity. "Ishan, sabse pehle toh mujhe yeh bata, kya yeh Virat aur main failure hai?" [Ishan, firstly tell me this, do you think Virat and I are failures?]

Ishan's head snaps up at lightning speed, surprise etched on his face. "Bhaiyya, aap aise kaise bol sakte ho? Aap dono toh India ke legends ho, sabse successful cricketers ho. Virat bhai ko King Kohli kehte hai aur apko Hitman kaha jata hai. Aap dono failures kaise ho sakhte ho?" [Bhaiyya, how can you say that? You both are legends of India, the most successful cricketers. Virat bhai is called King Kohli and you're known as the Hitman. How can you both be failures?]

Rohit bhaiyya shakes his head with a small smile, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Kyu? Kya Virat aur main apne career mein kabhi fail nahin hote? Kae baar hum match mein runs nahin bana paate to kae baar out bhee ho jaate hain. Toh kya hum dono failure hein?" [Why? Do Virat and I never fail in our careers? Sometimes even we can't score runs in a match, sometimes we get out. So are we not failures?]

Ishan's expression softens as he absorbs Rohit bhaiyya's words. "Nahi, bhaiyya," Ishan replies, his voice barely a whisper. "Main aap dono ko kabhi bhi failure nahi samjhta." [No, bhaiyya. I never consider you both failures.]

"Phir tu kyun apne aapko failure samajh raha hai?" Virat bhaiyya's question hangs in the air like a heavy curtain, forcing Ishan to confront the harsh truth of his own self-doubt. [Then why do you consider yourself a failure?]

Ishan's throat tightens with emotion as he struggles to find the words to express the turmoil raging within him. "Main... main kuch nahi kar paya, bhaiyya," Ishan finally admits, his voice choked with tears. "Kuch time se aisa lag raha hai ki main... main aap sab ka vishwas tod raha hoon. Aap sab ne mujhe itna pyaar aur umeed diya hai, aur main... main un umeedo ko pura nahi kar pa raha hoon." [I... I couldn't do anything, bhaiyya. For some time, it feels like I... I'm breaking everyone's trust. You all have given me so much love and hope, and I... I'm not able to fulfill those expectations.]

Virat bhaiyya's hand comes to rest on Ishan's shoulder, "Ishu, tu hum sab ki jaan hai.
Tera ek match ya ek performance tere asli talent ko define nahi karta. Hum sab yahaan hain tere saath, chahe jo bhi ho. Hum sabne tujhe chun kar team mein liya hai kyunki hume vishwas hai ki tu ek exceptional player hai. Aur agar kuch galat hota hai, toh hum sab tere saath hai, tujhe support karne ke liye." [Ishu, you are the life of all of us. One match or one performance doesn't define your true talent. We are all here with you, no matter what. We have chosen you to be in the team because we believe that you are an exceptional player. And if something goes wrong, then we all are with you, to support you.]

Rohit bhaiyya nods in agreement, his eyes filled with understanding and compassion. "Ishan, cricket mein ups and downs hote rehte hain. Failure ek part hai success ka. Aur tu aise kyu bol raha hai jaise series ka last match tha? Aaj ke match mein jo hua vo kal ki match ka hissa nahi hoga. Bangladesh ki team ko dikha dena, ki tujhe hum sab apna pocket dynamo kyu kehte hai." [Ishan, there are ups and downs in cricket. Failure is a part of success. And why are you talking as if this was the last match of the series? What happened in today's match will not be a part of tomorrow's match. Show Bangladesh's team the reason why we all call you our Pocket Dynamo.]

Ishan's eyes brimmed with tears as he listened to the words of his mentors, his brothers, his family. When the words of BCCI selectors and cricket critics seemed to weigh him down, it was the unwavering support of his teammates that lifted his spirits and reminded him of his worth.

"Thank you, bhaiyya," Ishan whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for always believing in me, even when I couldn't believe in myself."

Rohit bhaiyya's smile was like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds, his eyes twinkling with pride. "That's what family is for, Ishan. We lift each other up when we're down. And you are our jaan."

Shubman smiles at Virat bhai and Rohit bhai, and pulls Ishan in a side hug, tucking Ishan's head under his chin. "Chal meri Sita, ab toh smile karde. Warna tujhe kiss kar doon ga." [Come on, my Sita, smile. Or else I will kiss you.]

Ishan, who wasn't expecting Shubman's words, burst into laughter. The sound of his contagious laughter causes smiles to spread across the faces of his teammates, their worries momentarily forgotten in the light of Ishan's infectious joy.

This was who there Ishan was—the Ishan who lit up every room with his laughter, the Ishan who lifted the spirits of those around him with his boundless energy and infectious enthusiasm.

"Kiss kiya na, toh raat ko kamre mein gusne nahi doonga." Ishan replies, smack the back of Shubman's head. [If you kiss me, I won't let you enter the room.]

Shubman grins, "Tu kiss toh karne de, tere liye toh main raat kamre ke bhar ruk jaunga." [Let me kiss you, I will even stay outside the room dor you.]

"What is this, Ishu? Humne bola, toh smile nahi kiya. Shubman ne bola toh smile kardiya?" Hardik whines as he enters the conversation, a playful pout forming on his lips.

"Haan toh agar tu chahta hai ki Ishu tere liye smile kare, toh tu treat dede." KL Rahul, Hardik's best friend and partner-in-crime, jumped in with a mischievous grin, his suggestion drawing chuckles from the rest of the team. [If you want to see Ishu smile at you, then give him a treat today.]

"Haan, yeh sahi hai. Tu bata Ishu tujhe khaane mein kya chahiye?" Hardik asked, looking down at Ishan with a twinkle in his eye. "Kuch bhi, tu bol." [Yes, this is correct. What do you want to eat today, Ishu? Anything, just say it.]

"Kuch aacha sa bol de, Ishu. Hardik pehli baar samne se treat de raha hai," Bumrah adds, winking at Ishan. "Ye mauka phir nahi milega." [Say something good, Ishu. It's the first time Hardik is offering a treat. You won't get this chance again.]

Hardik frowns and turns to face Bumrah, "Iska kya matlab hua Boom Boom?" [What is that supposed to mean, Boom Boom?]

Shami chuckles at Hardik's words, and claps his back, "Iska matlab, tu kanjoos hai, Harry." [It means, you're stingy, Harry.]

"Kya Harry bhai, aaj tak apne toh hume kabhi treat di nahi, aur Ishu keliye treat de rahe ho?" Kuldeep queries from across the room, his body leaning on the wall. [What's this, Harry bhai? You've never treated us before, and now you're treating Ishu?]

"Arre samajh na, Kullu. Ishu, Agastya ka bada bhai hai, which means ki Ishu Hardik ka bada beta hai. Ab Hardik apne Ishu ko treat nahi toh kaun dega?" Siraj teases from his spot, his smile wide. [Understand, Kullu. Ishu is Agastya's elder brother, which means Ishu is Hardik's elder son. Now, who will treat Ishu if not Hardik?]

Hardik rolls his eyes but can't hide the fondness in his gaze as he looks at Ishan. "Fine, Ishu. Kya chahiye tujhe?" [Fine, Ishu. What do you want?]

Ishan, feeling the warmth and love from his teammates, finally breaks into a genuine smile. "Bhaiyya, mere liye kuch bhi chalega. Bas aap sab saath ho, yahi kaafi hai." [Bhaiyya, anything is fine for me. Just having you all with me is enough.]

The room fills with a collective 'aww,' and Shreyas pipes up. "Ishan, we know you love us, but please, let's order something substantial. We're starving too!"

Suryakumar Yadav, known as SKY, chimes in, "Haan yaar, Harry ke kuch toh paise kharch ho." [Yeah man, Harry should spend some money.]

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, SKY," Hardik replied with a playful glare. "Alright, let's get something good. How about some Chinese?"

"Eh uss din humne Chinese khaya tha, kuch aur try karte hai." KL Rahul interjects, shaking his head. "How about Italian? Pizza and pasta?" [We tried Chinese the other day, lets try something different. How about Italian? Pizza and Pasta?]

"Haan aur uss pizza pe kitna cheese hoga? Chup chak sab Salad Bar chalo." Virat, ever the health conscious ex-captain suggests. [Yes and what about the cheese on the pizza? Shut up and let's go to the Salad Bar.]

Groans echo throughout the room at the mention of a salad bar, and their dreadful food that Virat seems to hate as much as his teammates.

"Gappa bas. Sada sa khana ni khana hume. Aaj mast pav bhaji order karte, woh bhi extra butter waali!" Rohit suggests while rubbing his hands together at the thought of delicious pav bhaji. [Keep quiet. We don't want to eat that rotten food. Let's oorder delicious pav bhaji today, with extra butter!]

"Aur kal extra workout kaun karega, Panda?" Virat says while poking Rohit in the side. [And who will do extra workout tomorrow, Panda?]

"Kabhi toh chuti dede tere iss workout se, Cheeku," Rohit retorts, throwing his head back with a groan. [Give us a break from your workouts sometimes, Cheeku.]

"Tu waise bhi kaunsa workout karta hai, Panda. Bas gym jaake pose maarne ka shauk hai." Virat replies with a smirk, nudging Rohit playfully. [You don't even workout, Panda. You just like to go to the gym and strike poses.]

"Aacha woh sab chodo, chalo na, aaj South Indian order karte hai, kitna time ho gaya hai." KL Rahul suggests, trying to steer the conversation back to food. [Okay, leave all that aside, let's order South Indian today, it's been a while.]

"Nahi yaar, aag kuch punjabi food order hai na. Chole Bhature aur saath mein kuch meetha order kar lenge." Shreyas interjects, his mouth watering at the thought of the spicy and flavorful Punjabi delicacies. [No man, let's order some Punjabi food. Chole Bhature and we'll also order something sweet.]

Only Shubman and Bumrah nod, their heads already buried in their phones as they search for nearby restaurants that could satisfy the team's diverse cravings.

As the team continues to argue over where and what to eat, Ishan observe each of them, his heart swelling with gratitude and love for the teammates who had become his family.

They may have come from different backgrounds, different cities, and different cultures, but on the cricket field and off it, they were united by a common bond—a love for the game and a deep-seated respect for one another.

As the laughter and banter filled the changing room once more, Ishan felt a sense of belonging wash over him, a deep-seated certainty that no matter what the future held, he would always have his teammates by his side, lifting him up when he fell, and celebrating with him when he soared.

"Yeh dekh Ritz. Tu kya bol rahi thi? Ki yeh sab sad hoke changing room mein baithe honge. Aur yeh sab toh yaha khane ki planning kar rahe hai." [Look at this Ritz. What were you saying? That they would all be sadly sitting around the changing room. And here they are making plans to eat.]

A voice cuts through the noise of the changing room, their amused tone drawing Ishan's attention towards them.

Anushka Sharma, Virat Kohli's wife and Ishan's sister-in-law, stands in the doorway with a fond smile on her face, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she watches the chaos unfold before her.

Ritika Sajdeh, the lucky charm and wife of Rohit Sharma stands beside her, her own smile mirroring Anushka's as she watches the scene with affection.

Behind them, are all of Ishan's bhabhis and the wives of Indian Cricket team members. All just watching their husbands fondly as they bicker over dinner plans

"Yeh sab jaise mood mein aaye the changing room, mujhe toh laga tha ki baithe honge. Mujhe kya pata tha, Anu, ki yeh sab aaj ke dinner ke bare mein lage huye hai." Ritika chuckles, shaking her head in amusement. [They all came into the changing room as if they were in a bad mood, I thought they would be sitting. How would I know, Anu, that they are all discussing today's dinner plans.]

"Kyu nahi bhabhi. Aaj Hardik ki treat hai, isiliye toh sab mood mein hai." Kuldeep answers, laughing as he gestures towards Hardik, who is busy arguing with Shami over the best restaurant choice. [Why not, bhabhi. Today Hardik is treating us, that's why everyone is in a good mood.]

Nataša Stankovic, Hardik's wife, steps into the room with an exaggerated look of shock on her face. "Hardik is giving a treat? Are you sure this isn't an early April Fool's joke?"

The entire room burst's into laughter at Nataša's playful jab, and Hardik throws his hands up in mock surrender. "Yaar, ek treat de raha hoon toh sabko shock kyun lag raha hai?" he says, feigning exasperation. [Man, why is everyone so shocked that I'm giving a treat?]

"Aap thoda frequently treats de diya kariya, Harry bhai," Athiya Shetty, KL Rahul's wife, says while making her way to her husband and linking her arm through his. [You should give treats more often, Harry bhai.]

As the women joined their husbands, the room felt even more complete. The presence of their wives added a warmth and familial closeness that made the room feel less like a changing room and more like a gathering of loved ones.

"Waise, decide hoha ki kya khana hai?" Devisha Shetty, Suryakumar Yadav's wife, inquires as she wraps an arm around her husband's shoulders. "Tum sab itne der se sirf baat kar rahe ho ya kuch decide bhi kiya?" [So, have you all decided what to eat? Or have you just been talking all this time?]

Suryakumar looks up at his wife with a sheepish grin. "Abhi toh decide nahi hoya, Devu, bas abhi karte hai. Itna saara option hai, sabko khush rakhna hai na." [Not yet, Devu, but we will decide now. There are so many options, we have to keep everyone happy.]

Sanjana Ganesan, Jasprit Bumrah's wife, joins the conversation with a playful smile. "Lekin jaldi karo na, mujhe bhook lagi hai." [But hurry up, I'm hungry.]

"I agree with bhabhi, bhook toh mujhe bhi bohat lagi hai." Shubman adds, dramatically rubbing a hand over his stomach. "Chalo, let's decide quickly. Italian, Punjabi, South Indian, Chinese, ya phir pav bhaji? Kuch toh bolo, varna main sab kuch order kar doonga." [I agree with bhabhi, I'm also very hungry. Come on, let's decide quickly. Italian, Punjabi, South Indian, Chinese, or pav bhaji? Say something, otherwise I'll prder everything.]

"Main bol toh raha hoon, Salad Bar chalte hai." Virat says again, earning a hard smack from Anushka on his arm. [I am saying, let's go to the Salad Bar.]

"Virat, please. Not again," Anushka chides, shaking her head, "I don't want to step foot inside that restaurant again. Let's go for something more filling and satisfying."

The room erupts into laughter at Virat's defeated expression, and Rohit claps him on the back with a sympathetic smile. "Sorry Cheeku, looks like Salad Bar is out of the question."

"Thank god," Hardik mutters under his breath, earning a playful slap from Nataša.

"Waise, there is one restaurant I have been wanting to try for a while now," Ritika says, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I have tried the food from the restaurant but I've never been there in person."

"What does that mean? You've tried the food but you've never been there?" Rohit questions, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Arrey, tumhe Aaradhya yaad hai? Meri childhood friend?" Ritika questions, her face lighting up with nostalgia.

"Arrey woh hi na, jo woh hai?" Rohit asks, trying to recall. [The one who is that?]

"Haan, wahi jo surgeon hai. Main usse kuch din pehli mili thi and usne apna lunch share kiya tha mere saath. Itna tasty tha, ki maan karta ki sab kuch kha jaun. Usne bataya ki uska lunch uski nanad de banaya tha, and uski nanad ka ek restaurant bhi hai. I say we try the food there." Ritika explains, her mouth already craving the delicious memories of the food she had tasted. [Yes, the one who is a surgeon. I met her a few days ago and she shared her lunch with me. It was so tasty that I felt like eating everything. She told me that her lunch was made by her sister-in-law, and her sister-in-law also owns a restaurant. I say we try the food there.]

"Waise iss restaurant ka nam kya hai, bhabhi?" Trisha Kulkarni, Shreyas Iyer's girlfriend, asks, her curiosity piqued. [By the way, what is the name of this restaurant, bhabhi?]

"I think restaurant ka nam shayad "Devi" tha," Ritika replies, trying to recall the name. "Haan, bilkul. Uska naam Devi hai." [I think the name of the restaurant is "Devi." Yes, exactly. Its name is Devi.]

"Devi? Kabhi suna toh nahi hai, per try karke dekhte hai." Ishan says, intrigued by the new suggestion. "Chalo, Devi restaurant mein chalte hai. Agar bhabhi ko pasand aaya, toh mujhe bhi zaroor pasand aayega." [Devi? I've never heard of it, but let's give it a try. Okay, let's go to Devi restaurant. If bhabhi liked it, then I'm sure I will too.]

"Chalo fir, boys go freshen up, fir hum dinner keliye nikalenge." Anushka announces, herding the wives out of the changing room with a playful smile. [Okay then, boys go freshen up. Then we'll leave for dinner.]

As the wives leave the changing room, the atmosphere shifts, the laughter and banter of the men fading into a comfortable silence as they begin to prepare for their dinner outing. Ishan feels a sense of contentment wash over him as he watches his teammates bustling about.

He may have stumbled today, but with the unwavering support of his teammates and the love of his family, he knew that he would rise again, stronger and more resilient than ever before.

For in the game of cricket, as in life, it's not about how many times you fall—it's about how many times you get back up, dust yourself off, and keep moving forward. And with his cricketing family by his side, Ishan knew that the sky was the limit for what he could achieve.

With a smile on his face and a fire in his heart, Ishan followed his teammates out of the changing room and into the waiting embrace of the night.

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Hello, I hope you guys like the first chapter of the story. Let me know if you guys enjoyed the chapter or if you feel like I can improve anything by commenting below.

Your feedback is invaluable in shaping the direction of the story and ensuring the best reading experience for all.

Stay tuned for more chapters to come, and thank you for joining these two on their love journey. Your support means the world to me, and I can't wait to share more of Ishan and Shivangi's adventures with you.

Until then, happy reading.