Thousand Years | A Shubman Gill & Ishan Kishan Fanfiction ✓

A renaissance so radiant

A/n - Aaya kis mod pe afsana?

*****

18th July, 1998 AD, Patna

It was the monsoon but the last three days had not seen a drop of rain. The habitants of Patna were accommodating to this new humid climate when the rains returned. The children danced with happiness, drenched in droplets. The farmers heaved sighs, relieved that their crops were saved. The stoves became involved in frying pakoras and boiling chais. There were sneezes heard and puddles formed every other minute. Amidst the cacophony of sounds and pitter patter of rain, cries were heard.

A boy named Ishan had been born.

*****

8th September, 1999 AD, Fazilka

The winter had just knocked doors and the habitants of Fazilka welcomed it with open arms and freshly fried groundnuts. The morning air was pleasantly chilly and as people climbed stools or opened cupboards to access the thick blankets, warmth spread through the city like rays of sunshine. People marvelled over their breath that froze for some flimsy moments in the air before vanishing. On that unusually chilly day, breaths froze and grateful gasps were heard.

A boy named Shubman had been born.

*****

Winter, 2017 AD, Dharamshala

Shubman entered the hotel with his suitcase. This was the first time he had flown without company. To be honest, he was desparate to see a familiar face and this anticipation was easily discernible in his quick pace towards the reception.

"Good evening, Mr. Gill. Half of your teammates have already been assigned rooms. Every room has one player from the India A squad. 401 has Mr. Saini, 402 has Mr. Chand, 403 has Mr. Nadeem..."

Shubman was soaking in the feeling of being in a new city, in a new environment that too a freezing cold one. By the time the man finished reading the list, nervousness had made Shubman forget the combinations of room numbers and names and he was clueless when the receptionist asked him,

"Which room would you like to be assigned to?"

Racking his brains for the answer but being unsuccessful, Shubman decided to listen to his heart that told him to choose room number 408. Shubman was not extremely superstitious but his birthdate had been sort of lucky for him. Even his eighth birthday had been the best one with his cousin returning from the States to surprise him.

Besides that, he only knew a handful of people from the squad, rest were all seniors. If he ended up with a known person, well and good, if not, even better as he would be in the company of a senior.

As he stepped into the lift, Shubman's optimism took a different turn as anxiety took over him. He should have listened to the man more carefully and chosen an Under -19 teammate or a Punjab teammate. Aah. Why, why am I such an idiot, he thought, standing in front of room number 408.

He closed his eyes and summoned a memory. A memory of his father's smiling face that reflected pride. A memory of his mother's tight and long embrace. A memory of his sister, nodding as he would tell her about the matches. And the three of them, together, managed to soothe the young boy.

He put the keycard in its holder and opened the door to find markers of residence in different places. There was an unpacked suitcase lying open on one end of the bedroom. Shubman tried to avoid peeking in its direction but from afar he could still make out the colours and it was safe to assume that his roommate liked colours. He tore his eyes away from the suitcase and sat on the edge of the bed.

This is it, he thought with a starry storm in his eyes. This is the life I have always wanted, he thought, a life filled with cricket.

Feeling extremely grateful, he reached for his phone and got up, walking towards the balcony, dialling his father's number.

"Hello. Haan, Papa, just abhi pahucha." In a voice shrill with excitement, he informed his father that he had just reached.

*****

Ishan opened the door to find a guy lying in his bed. Even though he had been anticipating the arrival of a roomate the sight shocked him and he refrained from letting out a scream at the last moment by slapping his mouth shut.

He tilted his hand to look at his watch. It was 10:36pm.

God save him if his roommate slept that early. As if on cue, the boy turned in his sleep and Ishan could see his face.

He happened to recognise the boy from a newspaper article that had contained his hazy photograph. Shubman Gill, he wondered, as he walked closer.

The boy was frowning. His eyes were tightly shut as if he was not sleeping but willing himself to sleep. Ishan felt so perturbed upon seeing how often the boy was tossing and turning in the bed that he considered patting his head. But he did not want to frighten the boy.

Ishan rummaged through his head and remembered that once his elder brother's bestfriend had trouble sleeping and when nothing else had worked, Raj Bhaiya had brought lavender oil for him, sprayed it on his pillows and massaged it on his temples.

And so that night Ishan Kishan roamed the streets of Dharamshala to find lavender oil.

*****

Shubman opened his eyes and woke up with a jerk. He looked at the clock in front of him and couldn't believe his eyes. It was five thirty in the morning. He had slept for seven hours straight! Stretching his arms he turned to see a boy sleeping with his lips parted.

He instantly recognised him as Ishan Kishan.

Oh so he had a senior who was only slightly older than him, as his roommate. Shubman grinned, hoping that he could befriend Ishan and also learn from him.

When Ishan's alarm rang at six thirty, Shubman was in the shower. Ishan rubbed his eyes. His first instinct was to check if Shubman had slept properly but when he saw that the left side of the bed was empty, he sighed. Maybe lavender oil had not worked on him. Maybe he could ask Raj Bhaiya what else his friend had tried.

Before Ishan had the chance to overthink, Shubman returned, having the courtesy to dry himself in the shower itself, wear a tshirt and return with a towel covering his lower body. A few stubborn water droplets still clung his hair. When his eyes fell on Ishan he mumbled a good morning.

And the first thing that Ishan decided to ask Shubman stirred the sweetness in Shubman's heart that he usually hid from strangers,

"Neend Hui?" Ishan asked, eager to know if he had slept well.

"Pata nahi kaise par acchi neend aayi kal." Shubman answered. He did not know how but he had slept well yesterday.

Ishan smiled, relieved. If Shubman hadn't looked so embarrassed he would have told him about the lavender oil but he decided to save it for later.

After all roommates would have a lot of time together, wouldn't they, he thought.