But for Virat? Silence.
Because sometimes, silence isn't weakness. It's a shield. But this time, that shield was dented.
In the RCB vs CSK match that followed, something was... off.
The man who could catch comets in midair? Dropped four sitters.
The king of animated celebrations? Barely cracked a smile.
Even when Yash Dayal bowled that last winning delivery, and the stadium exploded in red and bold, Kohli's hug to him wasn't the usual lung-bursting joy.
It was... quiet. Almost mechanical.
He clapped, yes. He smiled, faintly. But the fire was dimmed.
In the MI dugout, Rohit Sharma noticed.
At first, he brushed it off.
Maybe Virat was tired. Maybe it was one of those off days. But then, that night, scrolling through his feed, Rohit saw the chaos. The story. The memes. The live videos. The jab after jab after jab.
And Rohit knew-his best friend wasn't okay.
Not even close.
He didn't wait.
A few hours after the match, Rohit hit dial.
"Pick up, yaar," he muttered under his breath.
Finally, the line connected.
"Kya chal raha hai?" Rohit asked, voice low and careful. "Sab thik?"
Silence.
"Virat?" he prodded again, more softly. "Aajkal kuch zyada hi social media pe chhaye hue ho."
Still nothing.
So Rohit switched gears.
"Bhai, kyun tension leta hai kuch ullu ke patthon ki wajah se?"
He paused, then added with that familiar smirk Virat knew all too well, "Tu jaanta hai na yeh sab bahut 'woh' hai."
Virat chuckled, barely.
"Woh," he repeated. "Matlab?"
"Aree woh, tujhe pata h" Rohit grinned. "Jitne bolte hain na, utne hi bewakoof hote hain."
"Inko bas faltu ka drama or attention chahiye."
A sigh crackled through the phone. Heavy. Tired.
"Rohit..." Virat began, voice breaking a little. "Mujhe samajh nahi aa raha... itna sab sirf ek like pe?"
Rohit went quiet, letting his friend speak.
"I've always been careful, yaar. Always. Main aur Anushka... we've been through so much. Maine kabhi kuch galat nahi kiya. Ek galti... algorithm bol diya... uspar bhi log yeh sab bol rahe hain."
He took a deep breath, shaky.
"I worship her, Rohit. And now I'm being called... things I can't even repeat."
Rohit's voice softened. "Tu usse pooch ke dekh, kya uske bharose mein kami aayi hai tujhpe?"
"No," Virat replied, almost instantly. "Not even for a second."
"Toh phir tu baaki duniya ke liye kyun ro raha hai?"
It hit like a gentle slap. The kind only a friend can give. Rohit continued:
"Tere liye important kya hai? Vamu, Akku, Anushka... ya koi random log jo tere naam se likes kama rahe hain?"
There was a pause on the other end.
"Tu bhool gaya kya tu kaun hai, bhai?"
"Pehli baar nhi h jab tujhe or anushka ko drag kiya ja raha h."
"Logo ka kaam h, bhool jate h ki hum bhi insaan h."
"Jab pehle farak nhi padne diya, toh abhi bhi wahi kar."
Virat closed his eyes.
And for the first time in days, the weight on his chest felt just a little lighter.
"Rohit," he whispered, voice softer now, "Thanks."
"Abey chup kar. Apne beech kabse thank you hone laga kya?" Rohit shot back. "Bas yaad rakh. Tu theek hai. Aur main hoon na."
Another moment of silence.
Then, almost as an afterthought, Rohit's voice turned just a shade more serious.
"Waise... mujhe tujhe ek baat batani hai."
Virat blinked.
"Kya?" he asked, sitting up straighter.
But Rohit chuckled nervouly, his tone mischievous now. "Woh... agli baar."
And just like that, he hung up.
Leaving Virat staring at the screen, a small, confused smile forming on his lips for the first time in days.
Something told him...
That "agli baar" was going to change everything.
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I hope you liked this story. If you do please follow along for more such tales.
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Next will be the retirement conversation, let me know if you want to add something.
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Beyond the Boundary
Short StoryCricket is more than just a game; it's a way of life. This story explores the personal journeys of India's cricketing stars, revealing the friendships, the bonds, the triumphs, and the unwavering support that defines their relationships. These are s...
When Algorithms Attack Hearts
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