The sky wept tears of grey and the city was shrouded in misty veil. Soon The streets were lighted with people holding vibrant colored umbrellas of red, yellow and and blue against the grey sky. People huddled under the cover of bus stations, seeking refuge from the rain, their soaked clothes clinging to them while slightly gazing at the sky in the hope of rain to cease.

The rain streaks down the car window, twelve-year-old Dev is in the backseat, his backpack lays beside him, he clutches to his cricket bat, the worn grip shows it’s well treasured, he runs his fingers down the smooth wood, he’s lost in his own world.

The car moves through the streets.

DAD, in his 40s is driving, he’s wearing a white checkered shirt and black trousers, a vintage pen peeks out of his left pocket, he’s constantly glancing at it with a frown on his face. The car continues, and the usual silence hangs in the air, interrupted by the windscreen wipers swish back and forth in a rhythm against the downpour. Each time, sweep of blade clears a blurred world outside only for the drops to roll down again, a constant cycle.

Dev switch on his headphones and the world outside the car goes numb.

The voice of the commentator booms in his ears, describing the final moments of a cricket match.

The words of the commentary fill the car. “…and it’s a SIX by Mahendra Singh Dhoni! India lifts the World Cup after 28 years! That’s a phenomenal performance!”

A faint smile plays on Dev’s lips. He is transported to the stadium, the roar of the crowd, the thrill of the game. The world outside the car fades away.

The traffic thickens and the car slows to a crawl. Dev’s father exasperated glances at dev in the rear-view mirror. Dev! His father calls, the voice sharpen dev, dev dev

DEV !! Startled hears his father’s stern voice for the last time, he jolts and removes his headphones and stammers, “Uhm yes? I was listening to the English pronunciation”

His father responds

“How long are you going to cling to the bat, Dev?” his father asks, his voice sharp with frustration. “It’s not going to take you anywhere. If you don’t score well this time for math, I’m going to get you out of the practice matches. I don’t understand why they have these useless matches when they know nothing is going to work.”

Dev flinched, he shrinks in the back seat, the words hitting him like a physical blow, he clenches his fists trying to control his emotions. He remains silent staring out the window while the rain drops raced down the windows.

The car stops near the school traffic signal, 52 seconds to go, dev’s father sigh in disappointment.

Dev’s eyes are drawn to the scene before him. The elderly man, with his worn vest and sarong, his black-stained hands, and tired eyes, is meticulously working on a leather slipper seated on a low stool inside a hut. A big smile spreads across his face as he works, seemingly unburdened. Just as Dev was about to look away, he hears a voice call in a distance voice “Baba.” A boy, same age as Dev, but looked weaker and leaner than dev, walks toward the elderly man, he carries a worn cardboard box overflowing with unpolished shoes. He wears a baggy, faded shirt and black shorts. His bare feet pound the wet pavement as he runs. 

He thrusts the box towards the elderly man. The man glances up, then sets aside the slipper, a warm smile spreading across his face. The young boy bounces on the balls of his feet, his hands held free as if ready to take off again. He’s constantly bickering about something, his face bright up with excitement. Dev strains to hear their conversation but the sounds of the city drown them down. The elderly man chuckles at the young boy and ruffle his hair. A beat, the boys eyes dart toward something off screen and his smile fades.The countdown ticks down from 5 seconds, the traffic signal prepares to change from orange to green. At that moment, the young boy instinctively runs toward dev oblivious about the thousands of people walking past him, the traffic signal turns green, and the car starts moving. Dev gasps, his eyes widen in alarm he tries to look back but the image of the boy becomes blurred by rain droplets on the window. The car stops in front of his school, he gets out, holding his umbrella, and his dad drives away.

Dev’s curiosity about the young boy leads him to walk past his school. He sees the boy, he’s now seated beside his father holding a wet shoe. Dev and the young boy lock eyes, the rain pours, and thunder strikes, scaring both Dev and the young boy. In that moment, they are drawn back into each other’s lives.