For More Future Chapters: -
My Patreon: -
https://www.patreon.com/c/Kynstra
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Please Donate Power Stones and Join My Patreon.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Perspective: The Fans (Stand G, Upper Tier)
Characters: Raju, Jignesh, and Vikram
The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the Motera pitch, but up in the nosebleed section of Stand G, the heat was still palpable. Not from the weather, but from the sheer friction of 130,000 bodies vibrating with anticipation.
"They won the toss," Jignesh groaned, clutching his Titans flag so hard his knuckles were white. "Batting first in a final. 180 is par. If Buttler gets going... we are finished. My heart can't take this."
"Oye, Chup!" Raju slapped Jignesh on the back, nearly knocking the overpriced popcorn out of his hand. "Look who has the ball. It's the Seth. Have some faith!"
Vikram, adjusting his glasses and checking the humidity levels on his phone, nodded. "Dew hasn't set in yet. The ball will swing for two overs. Watch."
When Aarav bowled that first toe-crusher to Jaiswal, the stadium gasped collectively. But it was the 6th over that sent Stand G into delirium.
"CAUGHT!" Vikram shouted as Abhishek Sharma plucked Jaiswal out of thin air.
Before Jignesh could even process the relief, Aarav was running in again. Snick. Buttler was gone.
"DOUBLE STRIKE!" Raju screamed, jumping onto his plastic seat (which creaked dangerously). "The Orange Cap is gone! The Seth has eaten him for dinner! Jignesh, are you breathing?"
Jignesh was not breathing. He was hyperventilating with joy. "30 for 2? In the Powerplay? Is this real?"
Raju roared. "Welcome to Gujarat!"
Perspective: The VVIP Box (The Tendulkar Family)
High above the chaos, the atmosphere was more controlled but equally electric. The Tendulkar family sat in the front row of the glass-enclosed suite.
Sachin Tendulkar was leaning forward, elbows on knees, analyzing every field change. Shradha Tendulkar, looking effortlessly chic, was watching the game with a mix of fan-girl excitement and expert scrutiny. She grew up listening dressing rooms talks; she knew the game better than most commentators.
The Spin Trap (Overs 7-14)
"He's choking them," Sachin muttered, a hint of admiration in his voice as Rashid Khan tied Sanju Samson in knots. "Look at the slip, Anjali. He's kept a slip for the spinner in the 9th over. That's aggressive."
"He wants wickets, Papa," Shradha said, her eyes not leaving the field. "He told me yesterday, 'I'm not going to defend. I'm going to attack until they crack.'"
"Well, they are cracking," Arjun Tendulkar mumbled around a mouthful of samosa. "Sanju just gave a catch to Gill. That was soft."
"It wasn't soft, Arjun," Shradha corrected him sharply, tapping her fingers on the armrest. "It was pressure. Aarav dried up the singles. Sanju had to play that cut shot. That wicket belongs to the captaincy as much as Rashid."
Sachin smiled sideways at his daughter. "You sound like a coach."
"I learn from the best," she grinned, winking at him. "But look at Kuldeep. Two wickets in one over? Padikkal and Hetmyer? This isn't a final; it's a procession."
Sara Tendulkar leaned over. "Is it bad that I feel a little sorry for Rajasthan?"
"Yes," Shradha and Arjun said in unison.
Perspective: The Fans (Stand G)
The Middle Overs
By the 14th over, Jignesh had transformed. The nervousness was gone, replaced by a smug confidence that was almost bordering on arrogance.
"76 for 5," Jignesh laughed, waving his phone torch. "They are playing Test match! Padikkal made 22 off 25 balls? Bhai, even I bat faster in tennis ball cricket!"
"It's the spin, gadheda," Vikram explained, pointing to the pitch. "The black soil is gripping. Aarav knew it. That's why he bowled out Rashid and Kuldeep early. Tactician!"
"Who cares about tactics?" Raju yelled, leading a chant with the row behind them. "AA-RAV! AA-RAV!"
"The pacers are coming back," Vikram noted. "Aarav, Arshdeep and Hazlewood. Time to clean the tail."
Perspective: The VVIP Box
The Death Overs (15-20)
The collapse was reaching its climax. The scoreboard read 85/5.
"He's bringing himself back," Anjali noted, pointing to Aarav marking his run-up. "He wants the five-fer."
"He's greedy," Shradha laughed, but her eyes were shining with pride. "Good greedy."
Ball 17.2: Aarav steamed in. The 151 kmph thunderbolt crashed into Ashwin's stumps.
"Shot, skip!" Sachin clapped. "That was too fast for Ash. He backed away, and Aarav followed him. Pure pace."
Shradha leaned back, crossing her arms, a satisfied smirk on her face. "He's showing off now. 151 kmph in the 17th over? He's just flexing for the cameras."
"He's flexing for you," Sara teased, nudging her sister.
Then came the procession. Arshdeep cleaned up Parag. Hazlewood got two in the final over, showing his class.
When the final wicket fell—Prasidh Krishna bowled by Hazlewood—the giant screen flashed: TARGET: 100.
Sachin stood up, adjusting his jacket. "99 all out. In a final. That is... unexpected."
"It's a statement," Shradha said softly, standing up to join her father. She looked down at the tiny figure of Aarav leading his team off the field, holding the ball high.
"He decimated them," Arjun shook his head. "3 wickets for Aarav, 2 for Arshdeep, 2 for Kuldeep, 2 for Josh. Everyone ate."
"Except Rajasthan," Sara giggled.
Perspective: The Fans (Stand G)
The Innings Break
The stadium was vibrating. The DJ was playing 'Chak De India'.
"99!" Jignesh was screaming, hugging strangers. "They didn't even reach 100! We are the champions! Raju, pinch me!"
Raju pinched him hard. "Ouch!" "It's real!" Raju laughed. "One innings left. 100 runs. We are going to witness history tonight, boys. The Seth Saheb has delivered the trophy on a silver platter!"
Vikram checked his watch. "The chase will be quick. The dew is settling. The ball will skid. We might be home by 10 PM."
"Let's go get some Jalebi-Fafda to celebrate!" Jignesh declared. "Gujarat Titans! Avave De!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The floodlights were fully ablaze now, illuminating the emerald green outfield. The dew was glistening on the grass, a sight that made the Gujarat dugout smile and the Rajasthan fielders grimace.
Out walked the openers. Shubman Gill, the Prince of precision. Abhishek Sharma, the explosive dynamo.
They walked out to a noise that could only be described as a sonic boom. 130,000 people were already celebrating.
Sanju Samson gathered his troops. "We have 100 runs. We need wickets. Slip, gully, silly mid-off. Attack everything. If we go down, we go down fighting."
Over 1: Trent Boult to Abhishek Sharma
Ravi Shastri: "Here we go! The chase for glory. 100 to win. Trent Boult with the new ball. He needs a miracle spell here. Abhishek Sharma on strike. Slip and a gully in place."
Ball 1: Boult started with his classic inswinger, aiming for the pads. Abhishek watched it carefully. He leaned forward and defended it solidly back to the bowler. Dot.
Ball 2: Boult tried to tempt the young left-hander. He bowled it on a length, wide outside the off-stump (6th-7th stump line), hoping for a loose drive to the slip. Abhishek didn't go for a tentative drive. He threw his hands at it. He slashed it hard, but with control, lofting it over the cover region. The connection was sweet. SIX!
Ian Bishop: "That is audacious! Second ball of the final chase! He sees a bit of width and just throws the kitchen sink at it! Over covers for a maximum! Abhishek Sharma is in a hurry!"
Ball 3: Boult corrected his line, drifting onto the pads. Abhishek used his wrists, flicking it effortlessly through mid-wicket. The ball raced away on the wet outfield. FOUR.
Ball 4: Abhishek pushed a length ball to mid-off for a quick single. 1 Run.
Ball 5: Shubman Gill on strike. Boult bowled a beauty, shaping away. Gill left it alone. Dot.
Ball 6: Gill tapped it to cover and scampered for a single.
Score: GT 12/0.
Perspective: The Fans (Stand G)
Characters: Raju, Jignesh, Vikram
"12 runs!" Raju screamed, high-fiving the stranger behind him. "Did you see that six? Abhishek is not playing a final; he is playing stick cricket!"
Jignesh finally unclenched his fists. "Okay, okay. 88 to go. No wicket lost. This is good. This is very good."
Vikram checked his phone calculator. "Required rate is now under 5. They can literally block every ball and win. But knowing Abhishek..."
"He won't block," Raju grinned. "Prasidh Krishna is coming. Fast bowling. Abhishek likes pace."
Over 2: Prasidh Krishna to Shubman Gill
Sunil Gavaskar: "Prasidh Krishna from the other end. He needs to pick up wickets. He has pace, but on this skidding surface, pace can travel."
Ball 1: Krishna bowled full, searching for swing. Shubman Gill presented the full face of the bat. A textbook straight drive. It beat mid-off and raced to the boundary like a tracer bullet. FOUR.
Ravi Shastri: "Pure class! Gill plays the most beautiful shot in the book! Head still, high elbow, and poses for the cameras!"
Ball 2: Gill pushed a length ball to mid-on for a single. 1 Run.
Ball 3: Abhishek Sharma on strike. 11 off 4 balls. Krishna banged it in short, trying to surprise him. But the pitch had settled. The ball sat up nicely. Abhishek swiveled and pulled it ferociously over deep square leg. SIX!
Ian Bishop: "It's raining sixes in Ahmedabad! He was waiting for that! He transferred his weight and bang! Into the crowd!"
Ball 4: Krishna, rattled, overcompensated and went full and wide. Abhishek reached out and carved it over deep point. He used the pace of the bowler perfectly. SIX!
Sunil Gavaskar: "This is destruction! He is making a mockery of the target! Two in a row! Prasidh Krishna has no answers!"
Ball 5: Krishna tried a yorker but missed the length. It ended up being a slot ball on off-stump. Abhishek didn't move his feet. He just cleared his front leg and lofted it straight back over the bowler's head. It crashed into the sight screen. SIX!
Ravi Shastri (SCREAMING): "THREE IN A ROW! SIX! SIX! SIX! Abhishek Sharma is on fire! He wants to finish this before the strategic timeout! 23 runs off the first 5 balls of the over! The Rajasthan Royals look shell-shocked!"
Ball 6: Krishna finally bowled a good bouncer. Abhishek swayed out of the way. Dot.
End of Over 2.Runs: 23. Score: GT 35/0. Equation: 65 runs needed from 108 balls.
Perspective: The VVIP Box (The Tendulkars)
The Tendulkar suite was chaotic.
Sachin Tendulkar was shaking his head, a smile on his face. "This is fearless cricket. In a final, usually, openers are cautious. These two are playing like it's a net session."
Shradha was clapping, but her eyes were scanning the dugout. She saw Aarav standing near the boundary rope, arms crossed, watching the carnage with a calm expression.
"He's not even padding up," Shradha laughed. "He knows he won't be needed."
"At this rate," Sara giggled, "The match will be over in 6 overs. We might make it back to the hotel for dinner."
Anjali clapped. "Shubman's straight drive was beautiful though. Very elegant."
"Yeah, yeah, Mom," Sara waved his hand. "But did you see Abhishek's six over point? That was savage!"
Perspective: The Fans (Stand G)
The stadium was vibrating. The noise level was dangerous.
"35 in 2 overs!" Jignesh was laughing hysterically, tears in his eyes. "I brought blood pressure tablets for nothing! This is a joke! We are winning in record time!"
"The Seth gave them the confidence," Raju roared. "He took 3 wickets, and now his boys are finishing the job. This is total dominance!"
Vikram put his phone away. "There is no strategy needed anymore. Just sit back and enjoy the fireworks."
On the field, Sanju Samson looked at the scoreboard. 35/0. He walked up to his bowler, looking defeated. The aura of the Gujarat Titans was suffocating. The trophy was slipping away fast.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over 3: Trent Boult Continues
Harsha Bhogle: "35 runs in two overs. The Royals are bleeding. Sanju Samson has kept Trent Boult on. He needs a wicket, otherwise, this match is over inside the Powerplay."
Ball 1: Boult ran in, looking for the magic ball. He bowled it full, shaping away. Shubman Gill saw the width and threw his hands at it. He didn't time it perfectly. The ball flew high over the infield... The crowd gasped. Mid-off ran back, cover ran deep. It landed safely in no-man's land and trickled over the rope. FOUR.
Ian Bishop: "Heart in mouth moment! Gill slices it, but luck is favoring the brave tonight. The Royals can't buy a break."
Ball 2: Boult didn't lose heart. He went back to his strength. The inswinging yorker/length ball. Gill tried to play across the line, perhaps getting greedy. He missed. The ball snaked past the inside edge and crashed into the off-stump. CLACK.
Ravi Shastri: "BOWLED HIM! Boult strikes! He gets the gill! Shubman Gill has to depart. A brief spark, but Rajasthan has an opening!"
Shubman Gill b Boult 11 (4)Score: 39/1
The Entry of the King
The wicket fell, but the stadium didn't go silent. Instead, a low rumble began, vibrating through the concrete stands. It built like a tsunami.
Then, he walked out. Aarav Pathak.
The noise hit 125 decibels. "SETH SAHEB! SETH SAHEB! SETH SAHEB!"
On the field, Jos Buttler literally put his hands over his ears, grimacing at the sheer volume. The 130,000-strong crowd wasn't just cheering; they were roaring for their leader.
Aarav walked to the crease. He didn't look at the crowd. He marked his guard. Then, he took his stance. It wasn't his usual stance. He opened his front leg wide, his chest almost facing the bowler, exposing two stumps completely. He stood there, bat waving high like a sword, daring Boult to hit the stumps he was showing.
Ball 3: Slicing the Cake Aarav on strike. First ball. Boult saw the open stance and tried to bowl the wide yorker to keep it away from the hitting arc. Aarav didn't move his feet. He just extended his arms. He waited for the ball to arrive and sliced it. It was a stroke of pure arrogance and precision. He carved it through the gap between backward point and short third man. It looked like he was slicing a victory cake. FOUR.
Ravi Shastri: "Oh, the swagger! Look at that stance! He shows him the stumps and then slices him through point! That is the shot of a man who knows he has already won!"
Ball 4: Aarav pushed a length ball to mid-off for a sharp single. 1 Run.
Ball 5: Abhishek Sharma took a single to deep square leg. 1 Run.
Ball 6: Aarav defended the last ball solidly. Dot.
Score: 45/1. Equation: 55 runs needed from 102 balls.
Over 4:
Sanju Samson turned to Ravichandran Ashwin. He needed experience to stop the flow.
Ball 1: Abhishek Sharma on strike. Ashwin tossed it up, drifting into the pads. Abhishek didn't care about the reputation. He went down on one knee and slog-swept it with the spin. The connection was brutal. SIX! It sailed deep into the stands at mid-wicket.
Ian Bishop: "He greets the Professor with a maximum! Abhishek Sharma is playing a gem of a innings here! He wants to finish it in style!"
Ball 2: Ashwin, the wily veteran, adjusted immediately. He slowed it down (82 kmph) and dragged the length back slightly. Abhishek tried to repeat the shot. He swung too early. The ball took the top edge and ballooned straight up. Sanju Samson called for it, settled under the swirling ball, and took it safely.
Harsha Bhogle: "And he gets him! Ashwin has the last laugh. Abhishek Sharma goes for a blistering knock, but he tries one too many. Rajasthan is chipping away!"
Abhishek Sharma c Samson b Ashwin 26 (12)Score: 51/2
New Batsman:Heinrich Klaasen.
Ball 3: Klaasen punched his first ball to long-on for a single. 1 Run.
Ball 4: Aarav Pathak on strike. Ashwin tried to flight it outside off, hoping for a drive. Aarav stepped out. He didn't just step out; he charged. He met the ball on the full and lofted it straight back over the bowler's head. It flew over the sight screen, crashing into the camera equipment platform. SIX!
Ravi Shastri (Booming): "BOOM! STRAIGHT DOWN THE GROUND! He didn't let it spin! He met it on the half-volley and deposited it! The Seth Saheb says 'I am still here!'"
Ball 5: Aarav went down on one knee and swept a fuller delivery to deep square leg. 1 Run.
Ball 6: Klaasen worked it to mid-wicket. 1 Run.
End of Over 4.Score: 60/2. Equation: 40 runs needed from 96 balls.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over 5: Obed McCoy
Sanju Samson, looking at the scoreboard which read 60/2 in just 4 overs, knew the game was technically over. The required rate was a laughable 2.5 runs per over. But pride was at stake. He didn't want to be humiliated in 8 overs. He brought on Obed McCoy to try and use his variations.
Ravi Shastri: "60 runs on the board. 40 to win. The Powerplay isn't even done yet. This is a stroll in the park for the Titans. Sanju Samson is just trying to delay the inevitable now."
Ball 1: Heinrich Klaasen on strike. McCoy bowled a slower ball on the pads. Klaasen, chewing gum much like his captain, simply nudged it to deep mid-wicket. He didn't run hard. He jogged. 1 Run.
Ball 2: Aarav Pathak faced up. The crowd roared, expecting another six. But Aarav just leaned on his bat handle for a second, smiled at McCoy, and pushed a length ball to long-off. A gentle single. 1 Run.
Ball 3: Klaasen worked a cutter to square leg. Another single. 1 Run.
Ball 4: Aarav tapped a back-of-a-length delivery to deep cover. He walked the first few steps. 1 Run.
Ball 5: Klaasen drove to mid-off. 1 Run.
Ball 6: Wide
Ball 6: Aarav punched to long-on. Dot Ball.
Score: 66/2.
Ian Bishop: "This is psychological dominance. They aren't even trying to hit boundaries. They are just milking the bowling, telling Rajasthan, 'We can finish this whenever we want.' It's almost cruel."
Over 6: Trent Boult to Finish the Powerplay
Trent Boult came in for his third over. He was the only one who had looked threatening, taking the wicket of Gill. But even he looked deflated. His shoulders were slumped.
Sunil Gavaskar: "Trent Boult has one over left in the Powerplay. He needs a hat-trick to make this interesting. Otherwise, the Gujarat Titans are just walking towards the trophy."
Ball 1: Klaasen on strike. Boult bowled a perfect yorker. Klaasen dug it out. Dot.
Ball 2: Klaasen pushed a length ball to mid-off. Dot.
Ball 3: Klaasen finally got a single to third man. 1 Run.
Ball 4: Aarav on strike. Boult bowled a bouncer. Aarav didn't pull. He didn't hook. He just swayed out of the way, looking bored. Dot.
Ball 5: Aarav tapped a length ball to cover. He called for a quick single, just to keep the fielders awake. 1 Run.
Ball 6: Klaasen pushed to mid-on and ran one. 1 Run.
End of Powerplay.Score: 69/2. Equation: 31 runs needed from 84 balls.
The camera panned to the two batsmen walking towards each other for the mid-over chat.
Usually, in a final, there is tension. Hand gestures about field placements, intense discussions about the spin. Here, Aarav Pathak and Heinrich Klaasen were laughing.
Aarav patted Klaasen on the back, pointing to something in the crowd—probably a funny poster. Klaasen was nodding, completely relaxed. Their body language screamed victory.
Harsha Bhogle: "Look at them. Just look at the body language. They know it. The crowd knows it. Sanju Samson knows it. They are not chasing a target anymore; they are taking a victory lap. The trophy is in the building, and the engraver has probably started writing 'G-U-J-A...' already."
Ravi Shastri: "It's a procession. 31 runs needed. They could bat left-handed and win from here. But credit to them—they earned this relaxation. They destroyed the bowling in the first 4 overs so they could cruise in the next 10."
The players took a drinks break. The Rajasthan Royals huddled, but it was a quiet huddle. There was no fire left. The crowd of Ahmedabad had swallowed them whole.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Powerplay was done. The fast bowlers had been decimated. Sanju Samson, looking like a captain who just wanted the night to end, turned to his spin department. It was a formality now, a mere box-ticking exercise before the confetti cannons went off.
Over 7: Yuzvendra Chahal to Heinrich Klaasen
Ravi Shastri: "31 runs needed. Spin is introduced. Yuzvendra Chahal, the Purple Cap holder. But what can he do defending 30-odd runs? He needs a miracle every ball."
Ball 1: Chahal tossed it up, trying to entice Klaasen into a mistake. Heinrich Klaasen didn't blink. He didn't step out. He just cleared his front leg and swung through the line. It was hit with such disdain. Straight back over the bowler's head. SIX!
Kevin Pietersen: "Oh, don't bother looking! That is gone! First ball of spin and Klaasen says, 'No thank you, I'm not interested in defending.' That is a massive strike!"
Ball 2: Klaasen pushed a flatter delivery to long-on. 1 Run.
Ball 3: Aarav Pathak on strike. The crowd chanted "SETH SAHEB". Aarav leaned forward and flicked a leg-break to deep mid-wicket. Soft hands. 1 Run.
Ball 4: Klaasen worked it to deep square leg. 1 Run.
Ball 5: Aarav drove to long-off. 1 Run.
Ball 6: Klaasen retained the strike with a push to long-on. 1 Run.
Score: 80/2. Runs from Over: 11. Equation: 20 runs needed.
Ian Bishop: "11 runs off the over without breaking a sweat. They are cruising. It feels like they are just knocking the ball around in the nets. The intensity has completely left the Rajasthan fielders."
Over 8: Ravichandran Ashwin
Sanju Samson brought on Ravi Ashwin. The Professor usually loves a battle, but even he looked resigned. He set a defensive field, trying to drag the game out.
Ball 1: Klaasen defended on the front foot. Dot.
Ball 2: Klaasen pushed to cover. Dot.
Harsha Bhogle: "Look at this. Klaasen is blocking. Aarav is leaning on his bat at the non-striker's end, chatting to the umpire. They are in no rush. They want to savor this."
Ball 3: Klaasen tapped it to long-on. 1 Run.
Ball 4: Aarav worked it to square leg. 1 Run.
Ball 5: Klaasen defended a carrom ball. Dot.
Ball 6: Klaasen took a single to end the over. 1 Run.
Score: 83/2. Runs from Over: 3. Equation: 17 runs needed.
Over 9: Yuzvendra Chahal
Chahal continued. The stadium was in party mode. The 'Mexican Wave' was going around the stands. The flashlights were on.
Ball 1: Klaasen drove to long-off. 1 Run.
Ball 2: Aarav pushed to deep cover. 1 Run.
Ball 3: Klaasen defended. Dot.
Ball 4: Klaasen took a single. 1 Run.
Ball 5: Aarav defended. Dot.
Ball 6: Aarav defended. Dot.
Score: 86/2. Runs from Over: 3. Equation: 14 runs needed.
Kevin Pietersen: "The batsmen aren't even trying! Look at that block from Aarav. He could have hit that for four easily. They are toying with the Royals now. It's almost disrespectful how easy they are making it look. It's a stroll."
Over 10: Ravichandran Ashwin
Ravi Shastri: "14 runs away. We are in the 10th over. This could be the over where they decide to end it. Heinrich Klaasen is on strike."
Ball 1: Ashwin bowled a slider. Klaasen saw it early. He rocked back and pulled it over mid-wicket. It wasn't hit with anger, just pure timing. SIX!
Ian Bishop: "That brings the target down to single digits! 8 runs needed now! Klaasen decides it's time to wake up the crowd!"
Ball 2: Klaasen defended. Dot.
Ball 3: Klaasen took a single to long-on. 1 Run.
Ball 4: Aarav Pathak on strike. 7 runs needed. Ashwin tossed it up, inviting the drive. Aarav stepped out. He didn't look to hit it in the air. He drilled it along the ground, splitting the gap between cover and mid-off. The outfield was lightning fast. FOUR.
Harsha Bhogle: "What a shot! Laser-guided! He pierces the field with surgical precision. Aarav Pathak moves to within one hit of the trophy! 3 runs needed!"
Ball 5: Aarav pushed it to long-off. He walked the single. 1 Run.
Ball 6: Klaasen defended the last ball. Dot.
End of Over 10.Score: 98/2. Equation: 2 runs needed from 60 balls.
Ravi Shastri: "We are halfway through the innings in terms of overs, but we are 98% done with the match. 98 for 2. Just 2 runs needed. This has been the most one-sided final in IPL history."
Sunil Gavaskar: "It is absolute domination. From the first ball where Aarav bowled that yorker to Jaiswal, to this moment. Rajasthan Royals haven't won a single session. They haven't even won a 10-minute period of play. Gujarat Titans have bulldozed them."
Kevin Pietersen: "Look at the dugout. Gary Kirsten is smiling. Ashish Nehra is actually sitting down—that's a first! They know it's done. Aarav Pathak is 2 runs away from lifting the cup in his home ground. The script couldn't be more perfect."
Harsha Bhogle: "And the crowd knows it. Listen to them. They aren't cheering for runs anymore; they are cheering for the moment. The Flashlights are on. 130,000 stars in the stands for the Superstar in the middle."
Aarav Pathak walked down the pitch to talk to Klaasen. "One hit?" Klaasen asked, grinning. "One hit," Aarav confirmed, chewing the gum. "Let's finish it."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The umpires called for a change of ends. The 10th over was completed. The scoreboard read 98/2. Two runs. One hundred and twenty seconds. That was the distance between the Gujarat Titans and immortality.
In the brief pause while the fielders crossed over, a strange phenomenon occurred. The Narendra Modi Stadium, the largest sporting arena on the planet, fell into a lull. It wasn't silence; it was the heavy, suffocating intake of breath before a scream. The humidity hung thick in the air, charged with the static of 130,000 souls waiting for the release.
In the center of this cauldron stood Aarav Pathak.
He wasn't drinking water. He wasn't talking to his partner, Heinrich Klaasen. He wasn't looking at the dugout. He walked to the center of the pitch, near the stumps. He placed his bat gently on the turf, leaning it against his leg.
He looked up.
The floodlights formed a halo around the stadium roof. The flashlights from thousands of phones created a galaxy of artificial stars in the stands.
Aarav slowly raised his right hand. He didn't wave. He simply held his palm flat, facing the crowd. And then, he brought his finger to his lips.
"Shhhhh."
The gesture was magnified on the colossal 360-degree LED screens. The effect was instantaneous. The buzz died. The horns stopped. The chatter ceased. Within five seconds, 130,000 people went pin-drop silent. The silence was louder than the noise. It was heavy. It was obedient. It was terrifying. You could hear the wind rustling the flags on the roof. You could hear Prasidh Krishna's spikes crunching on the turf forty yards away.
Aarav stood in the vacuum of sound, the master of his domain. A small, satisfied smirk played on his lips. He had them. He then raised both hands high above his head. He made a cutting motion, slicing the air vertically, effectively dividing the circular stadium into two hemispheres: The East Stand (Left) and The West Stand (Right).
He turned his body to the Left. He cupped his hand to his ear, leaning forward. The East Stand understood the assignment instantly. ROAAAAAR! A tidal wave of noise erupted from the left side. "GUJ-AR-AT! GUJ-AR-AT!" It was deafening. Aarav nodded, impressed.
Then, he raised his palm to the Left side. Stop. The East Stand fell silent immediately. He turned to the Right side. He cupped his ear again, raising an eyebrow as if to ask, "Can you beat that?" The West Stand took it as a challenge. They screamed. They howled. The sound barrier threatened to shatter. "AA-RAV! AA-RAV!"
Aarav laughed. He looked at the sky, soaking in the adulation. He raised both hands, thumbs up to both sides. And then, he punched the air. BOOM. The entire stadium, all 130,000 voices, unified into a singular, primal scream. The ground beneath the players' feet actually vibrated. This wasn't just fandom; this was worship.
On the commentary balcony, Ravi Shastri had goosebumps on his arms. "Look at this! Just look at this! He is conducting an orchestra of one lakh thirty thousand people! He controls the noise! He controls the mood! This is not a cricket captain; this is a rockstar at his own concert!"
Ian Bishop shook his head in disbelief. "I have seen Sachin pause a nation. I have seen Kohli ignite a stadium. But this... this theatrical control? This is something else. He is feeding off the energy, and he is feeding it right back."
The Prophecy
The crowd was now in a frenzy. Aarav picked up his bat. He walked to the crease. Prasidh Krishna was marking his run-up. The bowler looked pale. How do you bowl to a man who has the gods on his side?
Aarav tapped the crease. He looked at Prasidh. He didn't take his stance immediately. Instead, he stepped away from the wickets. He looked directly at the bowler. Slowly, deliberately, Aarav raised his bat. He pointed it towards the Long-On boundary. He held the pose for three seconds. He pointed to the roof.
Six. He was calling his shot. Like Babe Ruth in the World Series. Like a gambler pushing all his chips into the center of the table.
Sunil Gavaskar: "The audacity! The sheer audacity! He just told the bowler where he is going to hit him! He is predicting a six to finish the IPL Final! If he pulls this off, build the statue tonight!"
While Aarav was engaging in psychological warfare, something beautiful was happening on the boundary rope. The entire Gujarat Titans squad—the playing XI, the bench warmers, the support staff—had emptied the dugout.
They stood on the edge of the boundary line, arms interlocked, forming a human chain of blue. Rashid Khan had his arm around Rahul Tewatia. Shubman Gill (who had changed into his training kit) was hugging David Miller and Abhishek Sharma with Arshdeep Singh. And there, in the middle of the chain, stood Ashish Nehra. For the first time all season, he wasn't pacing. He wasn't eating a sandwich. He wasn't holding a coconut. He was standing still, arms locked with Gary Kirsten and Vikram Solanki. He was smiling. A proud, fatherly smile.
The Final Over: Prasidh Krishna to Aarav Pathak
Over 11. Ball 1.2 runs to win.
Aarav took his stance. The open stance. The 'Seth' stance. Prasidh Krishna ran in. The crowd held its breath. Prasidh, trying to avoid the full length, banged it in short and wide. A slower bouncer. Aarav swiveled to pull. But the ball stopped on the pitch. It arrived slower than he anticipated. Aarav checked his shot at the last moment, tapping it defensively to short mid-wicket. Dot Ball.
A collective groan, deep and guttural, echoed through the stadium. OHHHHHHH.
Ravi Shastri: "He missed out! A dot ball! The drama extends for one more delivery! The crowd wanted it there and then! But the scriptwriter says, 'Wait one more second'."
Aarav smiled. He walked down the pitch, tapped the spot where the ball landed, and walked back. He looked at Prasidh Krishna. He winked. One more chance, mate.
Over 11. Ball 2.2 runs to win.
Aarav tapped his bat hard. Thud. Thud. He cleared his mind. No crowd. No noise. No trophy. Just the ball.
Prasidh Krishna ran in again. He wanted to bowl a yorker. He wanted to break the stumps. He released the ball. It was full. It was fast (144 kmph). It was right in the slot. Aarav didn't move his feet. He didn't need to. He cleared his front leg, creating a magnificent arc for his bat swing. He transferred his weight forward. He met the ball with the full face of the bat. The Lofted Straight Drive.
CRACK.
The sound was distinct. It wasn't the dull thud of a mistimed shot. It was the crisp, gun-shot crack of wood meeting leather at the sweet spot. The ball left the bat like a tracer bullet. It rose. And rose. And rose.
It flew over Prasidh Krishna's head. It flew over the umpire. It flew over the sight screen. It flew over the photographers. It kept going, higher and higher, into the Ahmadabad night sky, shrinking into a small white dot against the black canvas.
Ravi Shastri (Voice cracking with power): "IN THE AIR... AND THAT IS INTO ORBIT! UNBELIEVABLE! AARAV PATHAK FINISHES IT IN STYLE! A MAGNIFICENT STRIKE INTO THE NIGHT SKY! GUJARAT TITANS ARE THE CHAMPIONS OF TATA IPL 2022!"
(Pause for the roar)
"LOOK AT IT GO! THAT IS THE BIGGEST SIX OF THE SEASON TO WIN THE TITLE! HE CALLED IT! HE POINTED TO THE ROOF AND HE PUT IT ON THE ROOF! HISTORY IN AHMEDABAD! THE DEBUTANTS HAVE DONE IT!"
Ian Bishop : "REMEMBER THE NAME! AARAV PATHAK! A young man from Mumbai, handed the reins of a new franchise, doubted by the experts, laughed at by the critics... HAS JUST LED THEM TO THE PROMISED LAND! Look at these scenes! Look at the emotion! They said they were too young! They said they lacked experience! But tonight, under the lights of the world's biggest stadium, they have proved that hunger beats experience every single time! The Gujarat Titans... welcome to the Hall of Fame! You are the Kings of Indian Premier League !"
The moment the ball cleared the rope, the human chain on the boundary broke. It was a stampede of Blue.
Shubman Gill was the first to reach Aarav. He tackled him to the ground, screaming in delight. Rashid Khan leaped onto the pile. Abhishek Sharma, Arshdeep Singh, Rahul Tewatia, David Miller, Rinku Singh—they all piled on.
Aarav lay at the bottom of the heap, looking up at the floodlights, breathless, crushed under the weight of his teammates. He started laughing. A loud, uncontrollable laugh of pure relief.
He had done it. He had come to this alternate world. He had taken a team of misfits. And he had turned them into Invincibles.
As the pile cleared, Aarav stood up. His jersey was dirty. His hair was a mess. Ashish Nehra walked up to him. The coach didn't say a word. He just pulled Aarav into a bone-crushing hug, lifting the captain off his feet. "You crazy boy," Nehra whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You actually did it."
Aarav hugged him back. "We did it, paaji. We did it."
Fireworks erupted from the roof of the stadium, painting the sky in Gold and Blue. The confetti cannons blasted, filling the air with glitter. The song 'Hall of Fame' blasted through the speakers.
Sanju Samson walked over, a graceful loser in a tough game. He shook Aarav's hand. "You guys were too good," Sanju admitted. "That six... that was special."
Aarav walked away from the chaos for a second. He walked towards the VVIP box. He saw Shradha standing against the glass, clapping. He saw Sachin Tendulkar giving him a standing ovation. He saw Prime Minister Modi clapping.
Aarav touched his heart, bowed to them, and then turned back to his team. He grabbed a stump from the ground. He held it high above his head like a sword. And he let out a roar that matched the 130,000 people screaming his name.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The handshakes were respectful, but brief. Aarav hugged Sanju Samson, whispering something before the chaos truly began.
The stadium DJ blasted 'music, but the real entertainment was happening near the dugout.
Suddenly, a roar went up from the North Stand. Ashish Nehra, the Head Coach who had spent the season pacing the boundary line, emerged from the tunnel. He wasn't walking. He was driving a scooter. Not a fancy electric bike. An old-school, slightly battered, white Honda Activa that probably belonged to a ground staff member.
He honked the horn enthusiastically. Peep-peep!
Aarav, laughing so hard his ribs hurt, ran over. "paaji ji! Where did you get this?"
"Don't ask!" Nehra yelled over the engine noise. "Get on! We are doing a lap!"
Aarav jumped onto the backseat. Arshdeep Singh, holding a stump, squeezed in behind Aarav, clinging to his captain for dear life. Abhishek Sharma, never one to miss out, ran alongside and jumped onto the front floorboard, standing between Nehra's legs and the handlebars.
"Chalo!" Nehra revved the engine.
The scooter wobbled, then surged forward onto the outfield. It was a ridiculous sight. Four grown men—the champions of the IPL—piled onto a single scooter, driving around the biggest stadium in the world.
Behind them, the rest of the team—Gill, Rashid, Miller, Tewatia—were sprinting, waving flags, doing funny things, and spraying water bottles.
The crowd loved it. This wasn't a corporate celebration; it was pure, unadulterated joy. It was gully cricket on the grandest stage.
Twenty minutes later, the podium was set up in the middle of the ground. Confetti still littered the grass. Ravi Shastri stood with the microphone, his voice hoarse but still booming.
Ravi Shastri: "Ahmedabad! Are you entertained?!" (Roar)
"Before we get to the winners, let's hear from the Runners-Up. A tough night, but a brilliant season. Please welcome the Rajasthan Royals captain, Sanju Samson."
Sanju walked up, looking drained but dignified. He accepted the cheque for the Runners-Up.
Ravi: "Sanju, 99 all out. Not the script you wanted."
Sanju: "Yeah, definitely not. We thought 160 was par. But credit to Gujarat. They outplayed us in every department. Aarav's spell with the new ball... that set the tone. We will learn from this. Proud of the boys for getting here."
Orange Cap (Most Runs):Jos Buttler (Rajasthan Royals) - 863 Runs. He walked up, forcing a smile. "Disappointed with tonight, but it's been a special season personally. Congrats to Aarav and GT."
Purple Cap (Most Wickets):Yuzvendra Chahal (Rajasthan Royals) - 27 Wickets. He took the cap, looking at the trophy he missed out on.
Player of the Match:Aarav Pathak . (Already collected)
Ravi Shastri: "And now... the moment you have been waiting for. The Captain of the Gujarat Titans. He came, he saw, he conquered. Ladies and Gentlemen, Aarav Pathak!"
Aarav walked up to the podium. The noise was deafening. He high-fived Ravi Shastri.
Ravi: "Aarav, first season. New franchise. Champions. How does it feel?"
Aarav: "Surreal, Ravi bhai. When we started the camp, nobody gave us a chance. They said we lacked experience. But we had hunger. We had Ashish Nehra planning, Gary's calmness, and 11 young guns on the field. This is for Gujarat. This is for the fans."
Ravi: "You called the six. You pointed to the roof."
Aarav (Grinning): "In the heat of the moment... you have to back yourself. I just wanted to finish it."
Ravi Shastri: "I invite the President of the BCCI, Sourav Ganguly, and Secretary Jay Shah to present the TATA IPL 2022 Trophy to the champions!"
Aarav walked to the center of the stage. His team was behind him, jumping, screaming, waiting. Sourav Ganguly handed the golden trophy to Aarav. It was heavy. It was beautiful.
Aarav took it. He didn't lift it immediately. He walked back to the group. He crouched low. The team built the anticipation. Whooooaaaa....
Aarav exploded upwards. He thrust the trophy into the night sky.
"YEEEAAAHHHHH!"
The fireworks erupted from the roof—Gold and Blue explosions lighting up Ahmedabad. Confetti cannons blasted. Paper streamers rained down.
Arshdeep Singh was screaming at the top of his lungs. Rahul Tewatia was pouring champagne (non-alcoholic for the cameras) over Miller. Rashid Khan had grabbed the trophy and was kissing it.
Aarav stepped back, letting other guys hold the cup. He stood on the edge of the podium, hands on his hips, watching the joy. He looked up at the VVIP box one last time. He saw Shradha blowing him a kiss.
He caught it, smiled, and then turned back to join the huddle. They were the Kings of India. The Gujarat Titans. Champions.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Note: - 6800+ Words
For More Future Chapters: -
My Patreon: -
https://www.patreon.com/c/Kynstra
Thank you very much for all the support and donate power stones!!
Do Comment, anything just comments and Donate Power stone!!
If you're enjoying the story, don't forget to leave a ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ rating! Your feedback means so much. And feel free to comment on where you think the story should go next—I'd love to hear your thoughts on the future direction!