chapter 2- first step towards dreams

The following morning, Sonu woke up earlier than usual, the excitement of the previous day still buzzing through his veins. He lay in bed for a moment, staring at the cracked ceiling of his room, his mind replaying the events of the evening. The bat, the notebook, and that electronic pass—it all felt like a dream. But as his eyes shifted to the corner of the room, he saw the bat leaning against the wall, and the electronic pass lying on top of his study desk. It was real.

Sonu leaped out of bed and quickly dressed in his most comfortable clothes—a faded T-shirt and a pair of track pants. The bat felt weighty in his hand, and as he held it, a flood of emotions rushed through him. He couldn't help but remember the stories he'd heard about Vishal Bhaiya—how he was once the best cricketer Sultanganj had ever seen, and how everyone thought he'd go on to play for the state team, if not the country.

But fate had other plans for Vishal Bhaiya. Family responsibilities, financial struggles, and the lack of proper guidance had forced him to give up on his dream. Sonu knew how easily that could happen to anyone from a small town like theirs. But now, thanks to Vishal Bhaiya, Sonu had a shot—an actual, tangible shot at making it.

He picked up the notebook and flipped through its pages. Each note was written with care, detailing drills for batting, bowling, and fielding. There were pages dedicated to mental strength, advice on how to deal with pressure, and strategies for different match situations. Sonu marveled at the wisdom packed into those handwritten notes. It was as if Vishal Bhaiya had distilled all his experience into this little book.

As he closed the notebook, Sonu heard a soft knock on his door. It creaked open, and his mother peeked in.

"Up early today?" she asked, her face showing a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"Yeah, Ma," Sonu replied, his voice full of enthusiasm. "I'm going to the new cricket stadium today. Vishal Bhaiya gave me access to the training facilities there."

His mother raised her eyebrows in surprise. "The new stadium? I thought it wasn't open yet."

"It's not. But Vishal Bhaiya knows someone there. He gave me a special pass." Sonu held up the electronic card, the digital screen glowing faintly in the morning light.

His mother's expression softened. She walked into the room and sat on the edge of Sonu's bed, her hands resting on her lap. "Sonu, I know how much cricket means to you," she began, her voice gentle but serious. "But I also worry about you. Your father and I… we don't have much to give. This dream of yours, it's not going to be easy."

Sonu sat down beside her, his heart heavy with the weight of her words. He knew she was right. He had seen the struggles his family faced every day. But something inside him refused to give up.

"I know, Ma," he said softly. "But this… this is my chance. If I don't take it, I'll always wonder what could have been."

His mother looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. Then she reached out and gently touched his cheek. "Just promise me one thing, Sonu. Whatever happens, don't lose yourself in the process. We'll always be here for you."

Sonu nodded, his throat tight with emotion. "I promise, Ma."

She smiled, stood up, and left the room, leaving Sonu alone with his thoughts. He looked at the bat in his hands, feeling its weight once more. This was it—the first step toward his dream.

An hour later, Sonu found himself standing in front of the imposing gates of the new Sultanganj Cricket Stadium. The stadium had been the talk of the town for months. It was a massive project, funded by a local businessman with a passion for cricket, and was supposed to be a state-of-the-art facility, unlike anything Sultanganj had ever seen.

The gates were closed, and a guard stood at the entrance, eyeing Sonu with suspicion. Sonu took a deep breath and approached him.

"Excuse me, Bhaiya," Sonu said, holding out the electronic pass. "I have this. Vishal Bhaiya said it would get me in."

The guard squinted at the pass for a moment before nodding. He took out a small scanner, swiped the card through it, and the gates slowly creaked open.

"Go on in," the guard said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "The facilities are still under construction, but the practice nets are open."

Sonu thanked him and stepped through the gates. As he entered the stadium grounds, his breath caught in his throat. The place was enormous. The main cricket field stretched out in front of him, its pitch pristine and freshly rolled. Surrounding the field were rows upon rows of seats, enough to accommodate thousands of spectators. It was hard to believe that such a grand structure was being built in Sultanganj.

But Sonu wasn't here to admire the architecture. He made his way toward the practice nets at the far end of the stadium, where a few other boys his age were already warming up. Some of them had expensive cricket gear, and Sonu felt a pang of self-consciousness as he looked down at his worn-out bat and second-hand shoes.

Shaking off the feeling, Sonu walked up to one of the empty nets and began his warm-up drills. He followed the instructions from the notebook, focusing on his footwork, stretching his arms and legs, and loosening his muscles. His heart pounded with a mix of nerves and excitement. This was his first real chance to practice in a professional setting, and he didn't want to waste it.

As he took his stance in front of the wicket, gripping the bat tightly, he imagined himself playing in a real match—facing a fast bowler, the crowd roaring around him, the pressure mounting. He visualized his favorite shots: the straight drive, the pull shot, the cover drive. His hands moved with muscle memory, even though there was no bowler in sight yet.

Just then, a voice broke his concentration.

"First time here?"

Sonu turned to see a boy about his age, dressed in a crisp, white cricket uniform and holding a shiny new bat. His dark hair was slicked back, and his posture oozed confidence.

"Yeah," Sonu replied, feeling a bit out of place in his worn clothes.

The boy nodded, his eyes scanning Sonu's gear with mild curiosity. "I'm Arjun," he said, extending his hand. "I play for the district under-16 team."

Sonu shook his hand, trying not to show his nerves. "Sonu. I… I haven't played for any team yet."

Arjun raised an eyebrow. "You're not with any academy?"

Sonu shook his head.

"Well," Arjun said, shrugging, "this stadium is going to change things. Once the academy opens, they'll be scouting for talent. You should try out."

Sonu's heart raced at the thought. He had heard about the academy being part of the stadium project, but he hadn't considered trying out for it. He wasn't sure he'd be good enough to compete with boys who had been playing with proper coaching for years.

Arjun must have sensed Sonu's hesitation because he smirked and added, "Don't worry. The coaches here are good at spotting raw talent. Just show them what you've got."

Sonu nodded, feeling a flicker of determination reignite in his chest. Raw talent—he had that. He might not have the best gear or formal training, but he had passion and the will to work harder than anyone else.

Arjun gave him a brief nod and moved to another net, where a coach was waiting to observe his practice. Sonu returned to his own net, gripping his bat tighter.

He wasn't here to prove anything to Arjun or anyone else. He was here for himself—to chase the dream he had nurtured for years.

With a deep breath, he took his stance once more, his eyes focused and unblinking.

This was just the beginning.