The Dream That Never Sleeps

Chapter 1: The Dream That Never Sleeps

The sky is still dark when Aarav wakes up, the soft hum of a distant train breaking the silence. He blinks at the cracked ceiling of his tiny rented room, the glow of streetlights slipping through the broken windowpane. His body aches from yesterday's training, but there's no time to rest.

He sits up, rubbing his tired eyes before reaching for his cricket kit. The bat's grip is worn out, the gloves torn in a few places, but he holds them with a firm grip—they are the only things that truly belong to him.

Slipping on his faded running shoes, he steps out into the cold morning air. The city is still asleep, but the empty streets belong to him. He jogs to the neighborhood park, a small, uneven ground where kids play cricket in the evenings.

Here, his daily ritual begins. He lines up bricks to form makeshift stumps, picks up a tennis ball, and starts bowling against the wall. The ball bounces back unpredictably, forcing him to react fast. It's crude training, but it's all he has.

After bowling, he switches to batting, swinging his bat through the empty air, visualizing bowlers charging at him. In his mind, he isn't in this broken park—he's in a stadium, under the floodlights, facing the best bowlers in the world.

His stomach growls, reminding him he hasn't eaten. But hunger is something he has learned to ignore.

After an hour, he checks his phone. A message from his boss at the sports shop: "Be on time today." Aarav sighs.

Later That Day

At the sports shop, he carefully unpacks a new shipment of cricket gear—bats signed by professionals, gloves padded with high-quality leather, shoes that promise the perfect grip. He runs his fingers over them, wondering how it must feel to play without worrying about broken gear.

The store's television is tuned into a sports channel. The screen flashes with the headline:

"After India's humiliating World Cup exit, a new beginning: 'Five Spots' selection trials begin nationwide!"

Aarav's fingers tighten around the bat he's holding. This is it. This is his chance.

That evening, he rushes to an old practice net on the outskirts of the city. Standing there, waiting for him, is Devraj, a retired cricket legend. Aarav met him by chance two years ago, and ever since, Devraj has been his silent guide.

Devraj watches as Aarav picks up his bat. He doesn't speak much, but his sharp eyes miss nothing. Aarav plays a few deliveries, his strokes crisp but unpolished.

After a while, Devraj speaks. "Your technique is better, but you're still too predictable. If I was a bowler, I'd set you up for a mistake in ten balls."

Aarav wipes sweat from his forehead. "Then teach me how to avoid it."

Devraj smirks. "Cricket isn't just about hitting or bowling. It's a game of minds. Talent will crush you. Strategy will save you."

Aarav listens, his heart pounding. He isn't the strongest. He isn't the most talented. But if he can be the smartest—then maybe he has a chance.

The Next Morning

The sun rises over the National Cricket Academy, where thousands of young cricketers have gathered. The gates are crowded with hopefuls—some famous school-level players, others already in club teams. Aarav walks past them, feeling like an outsider.

No one knows his name. No one expects anything from him.

But none of that matters.

He is here. And he will fight for his place.