The house was quiet. The only sound was the faint ticking of the wall clock in the living room and the distant barking of a stray dog somewhere in the lanes of Mohan Nagar.
Ajay lay on his bed, one arm tucked behind his head, staring at the ceiling. His bat leaned against the wall, still faintly smelling of leather and turf from the day's match. The glow of satisfaction from his 123 not out earlier was still there, but it wasn't enough. Not for him.
The Restless Mind
Most players, after a big knock, would spend the night replaying their shots in their heads, smiling at every boundary. But Ajay's mind was different now. His memories stretched across two lives—one of promise and collapse, and one just beginning.
In his first life, he had played good innings like this too. Local clubs, district matches, even Ranji games—he had made runs. But those innings hadn't stopped his downfall because his discipline had been built on sand. One injury, one lazy week, one bad month, and the cracks had widened until they swallowed his career.
This time, he needed a foundation no storm could wash away.
The Self-Talk
He whispered to himself in the dark. "No distractions. No shortcuts. No businesses until after cricket. No giving in to laziness."
It wasn't just a pep talk—it was an oath. The words came out steady, like a batsman planting his front foot firmly before driving through the line.
He knew what the path looked like. First, dominate local club matches. Then earn a place in the district team. Then the Ranji squad. Then, finally, the Bharatiya team. Every step was a trial, and he would pass each with numbers—runs scored, wickets taken, catches held, fitness levels maintained.
The Past as a Warning
The images came back to him—his younger self sitting at home, half-asleep on the sofa, watching cricket highlights while eating fried pakoras. His stomach bulging under a loose t-shirt, his movements slow, his breath heavy after just a short walk.
He remembered the call from the Ranji selectors telling him he was dropped. He had laughed it off at the time, telling friends it was "just politics." But deep down, he had known the truth.
He had not deserved to stay.
That humiliation had been the slow poison of his first life. This time, he would never taste it again.
Writing It Down
Ajay reached for his notebook—a habit he had picked up in this second life. In the dim light of his desk lamp, he wrote:
Wake up before sunrise every day
Run at least 5 kilometers daily
Practice batting for 2 hours minimum
Practice bowling for 1 hour
Fielding drills for 1 hour
Fitness training for 1 hour
Review every match performance in detail
No street food
No late nights unless match-related
Respect family and time
He tore the page from the notebook and pinned it above his bed. The last thing he would see before sleeping and the first thing he would see upon waking.
The System's Confirmation
Curious, Ajay opened his system panel.
Batting – 80/100Bowling – 27/100Fielding – 15/100Fitness – 17/100
At the bottom, a new notification glowed faintly:
Milestone Quest Unlocked – "The Unbroken Path"Condition: Maintain daily training without missing a single day for 365 consecutive days.Reward: Permanent +5% speed in all skill progression.
Ajay's lips curled into a smile. The system wasn't just a scoreboard—it was his silent coach, pushing him toward perfection.
Family in the Background
Through the thin walls, he could hear the faint clinking of dishes in the kitchen. His mother was likely putting away the last of the utensils from dinner. In the courtyard earlier, his grandparents had been telling stories to his younger cousins, their voices carrying the warmth of an old, unbroken home.
In this second life, Ajay felt those moments more deeply. Fame, money, trophies—none of it mattered if the bonds at home broke. He had seen too many players become strangers to their own families after success. He would not be one of them.
The Imagined Future
Ajay closed his eyes and pictured it:
Wearing the white jersey in a Ranji match, the sun glaring down, fielders chirping in the slips.
Walking out for his Bharatiya debut, the tricolor fluttering in the stands, the crowd chanting his name.
Raising the World Cup trophy, sweat mixing with tears.
Every image fueled his heartbeat. Every heartbeat strengthened his resolve.
Sleep with Purpose
It was past midnight when he finally allowed himself to rest. But even in those last waking moments, his mind repeated the oath:
"I will not stop. I will not get distracted. I will be the player they cannot drop. And when I retire, it will be because I choose to—at the top."
The ceiling above him faded into darkness, and the hum of the winter night wrapped around him. Tomorrow would be another day of training, another brick in the fortress he was building for his career.