Room 304 of the Osmania University men's hostel was thick with the smell of cheap Kingfisher beer and double masala Paradise biryani. The four boys—Karthik, Rahul, Shiva, and Raju—were crammed around the rented 32-inch television, their eyes unblinking, their hearts pounding in their chests.
On the screen, Siddanth Deva was at the top of his bowling mark at the Adelaide Oval. The target was a monumental 375. The Pakistani openers, Ahmed Shehzad and Younis Khan, were at the crease.
Rahul gripped his beer bottle so tightly his knuckles were white. His fifteen thousand rupees were on the line.
"Just bowl dots," Rahul whispered, a desperate prayer to the television screen. "Just build the pressure."
But as Siddanth began to measure out his run-up, a sudden wave of sheer confusion swept through the commentary box, instantly mirroring the confusion in the hostel room.
[COMMENTARY BOX - 2ND INNINGS, OVER 1]
Ian Bishop:"Wait a minute. Look at Siddanth Deva. He is marking his run-up from the other side of the umpire. Is he... is he going to bowl left-arm?"
Wasim Akram:"He is! He has just informed the umpire that he is bowling left-arm fast-medium over the wicket! We saw him do this once in a Test match at Trent Bridge, but to do it in a World Cup opener with the brand-new white Kookaburra? This is absolute madness!"
"Did the broadcast flip the image?" Raju asked, squinting at the screen. "Why is the ball in his left hand?"
"The broadcast isn't flipped, you idiot, look at the umpire's shirt logo!" Karthik yelled, scrambling closer to the TV. "He's actually bowling with his left hand! He's ambidextrous!"
"Why?!" Rahul panicked, his anxiety instantly spiking again. "He bowls 150 kilometers per hour with his right arm! Why is he experimenting in a World Cup match when my money is on the line?!"
"Because he's the Devil, mama! Watch!" Shiva slurred happily, completely unfazed, shoveling more chicken into his mouth.
0.1 Siddanth ran in. His action was perfectly mirrored, fluid and rhythmic. He delivered the ball at 141 kmph. It pitched on a good length on middle stump. Ahmed Shehzad, completely thrown off by the left-arm angle, played a hesitant forward defense. The ball swung back into his pads sharply, taking the inside edge onto his thigh pad.
"Good ball! Dot ball! That's what we want!" Rahul cheered nervously.
0.2 Siddanth pitched it fuller. Shehzad pushed it to mid-off and scrambled for a quick single to get off the mark.
0.3 Younis Khan, the veteran, took strike. Siddanth bowled a sharp outswinger that beat the outside edge by a fraction of an inch.
"Ooooh!" the hostel room echoed in unison.
0.4 Siddanth dragged his length back slightly. Younis defended it solidly back down the pitch.
0.5 A 142 kmph delivery aimed at the ribs. Younis tucked it awkwardly to square leg for no run.
"One ball left," Karthik muttered. "Come on, Sid. Finish strong."
0.6 Siddanth ran in for the final ball of the first over. He didn't try to swing it. He delivered a fast, skidding, left-arm cross-seam delivery that angled straight into the stumps. Shehzad, anticipating the away swing, played completely inside the line.
The ball crashed spectacularly into the middle and off stumps, sending the bails flying into the Adelaide night sky.
[COMMENTARY BOX - WICKET]
Ian Bishop:"BOWLED HIM! ABSOLUTELY CLEANED HIM UP! Siddanth Deva, bowling left-arm, strikes in the very first over! Ahmed Shehzad is completely beaten for pace and angle! What a phenomenal start for India!"
Room 304 erupted.
The four boys didn't just cheer; they exploded into a chaotic, uncoordinated dance. Karthik and Raju grabbed each other by the shoulders, jumping up and down in a tight circle near the beds. Shiva, with a mouth full of chicken, pumped his fists wildly in the air. Rahul simply fell onto his back on the mattress, screaming "YES!" at the ceiling.
"Left arm! Right arm! It doesn't matter!" Karthik roared over the noise of the television. "The algorithm is flawless! We are winning this World Cup!"
They quickly scrambled back to their spots as Bhuvneshwar Kumar took the second new ball from the other end. Haris Sohail walked out to join Younis Khan.
Bhuvneshwar was a master of the white Kookaburra. He bowled a flawless, maiden first over (the second of the innings), moving the ball both ways and keeping the pressure absolute on the new batsman.
"Wait, wait, look at the screen!" Karthik interrupted, pointing his t-shirt at the television as the third over was about to begin.
Siddanth Deva was marking his run-up for his second over—the third over of the innings. But this time, he wasn't standing on the left side of the umpire.
$$COMMENTARY BOX - OVER 3$$
Ian Bishop:"Well, hold the phone. Siddanth Deva has just informed the umpire that he is switching back to right-arm fast! He bowled the first over left-handed to get the left-handed opener, and now he is switching back to his natural right arm to bowl at the right-handed Younis Khan! The sheer audacity of this young man!"
"He's switching arms mid-spell!" Raju gasped, sitting back down on the floor. "Is that even legal?!"
"If you tell the umpire, it's legal!" Karthik grinned, sitting on the edge of the bed. "He is literally playing with his food!"
2.1 Siddanth, now bowling with his natural, terrifyingly fast right arm, steamed in. The speed gun immediately spiked. A 149 kmph delivery angled into the body. Younis Khan hurriedly defended it.
"Look at the pace difference!" Shiva yelled. "He gained eight kilometers per hour just by switching hands!"
2.2 Siddanth pitched it up outside off. Younis left it alone.
2.3 A sharp bouncer. Younis ducked awkwardly.
2.4 Siddanth bowled a perfectly disguised slower ball. Younis, expecting extreme pace, pushed at it early. The ball took the leading edge and lobbed gently toward short cover.
Virat Kohli, stationed perfectly, took a single step forward and completed the easiest catch of his life.
$$COMMENTARY BOX - WICKET$$
Harsha Bhogle:"CAUGHT! Virat Kohli makes no mistake! Siddanth Deva switches to his right arm, rolls his fingers over the seam, and completely deceives the veteran Younis Khan! Pakistan are 8 for 2! This is an absolute demolition job under the Adelaide lights!"
The hostel room descended into pure, unadulterated madness once again.
Rahul grabbed his phone on which betting app was open, from the desk, kissed it aggressively, and started doing bhangra in the middle of the room. Shiva joined him, clinking his beer bottle against Karthik's. They were screaming, completely ignoring the strict hostel noise curfews. The sheer joy of watching their arch-rivals being dismantled by their favorite player was an intoxicating cocktail.
The carnage continued seamlessly into the very next over. Bhuvneshwar Kumar steamed in for his second over—the fourth of the innings.
3.4 Bhuvneshwar bowled a beautiful, traditional outswinger. Haris Sohail, tempted by the width, threw his hands at a drive. The ball caught the thick outside edge and flew sharply to first slip. Shikhar Dhawan took a brilliant, diving catch inches from the grass.
$$COMMENTARY BOX - WICKET$$
Wasim Akram:"EDGED AND TAKEN! Bhuvneshwar Kumar strikes now! Brilliant catch by Dhawan in the slips! Pakistan are in deep, deep trouble at 12 for 3! The Indian opening bowlers have completely choked the life out of this chase!"
The boys in the hostel room didn't care that it wasn't Siddanth who took the wicket. A wicket was a wicket.
Karthik ripped his shirt off, spinning it around his head like a helicopter blade. Raju grabbed an empty Kingfisher bottle and started using it as a microphone, aggressively beatboxing while Shiva attempted a deeply flawed moonwalk across the small floor space.
"Bhuvi! The Swing King!" Rahul yelled, taking a massive, triumphant swig of his beer. "Pakistan is collapsing! Count the cash, boys!"
Siddanth bowled the fifth and seventh overs of the innings, keeping his right-arm pace consistently above 148 kmph. He didn't take another wicket in his opening spell, but he conceded only seven runs in those four overs.
His figures read: 4 overs, 1 maiden, 7 runs, 2 wickets.
MS Dhoni took him out of the attack to rest him, bringing Mohammed Shami and Ravichandran Ashwin into the fray.
For the next two hours, the match became a highly enjoyable background spectacle for the boys in Room 304. With the required run rate climbing above nine an over and the top order gone, the result was a foregone conclusion.
The boys focused on finishing their massive biryani feast and draining the crate of beer they had snuck in.
"Ashwin is spinning them like a top," Rahul noted happily, his anxiety entirely vanished, replaced by the warm, fuzzy buzz of alcohol and impending wealth.
On the screen, Misbah-ul-Haq tried to fight a lone, gritty battle, but wickets fell consistently at the other end. Shami picked up two quick wickets with sheer pace, and Ravindra Jadeja executed a brilliant run-out from backward point that had the hostel boys howling with laughter at the Pakistani running mix-up.
As the innings approached its conclusion, MS Dhoni brought Siddanth back into the attack for the death overs.
Pakistan was reeling at 221 for 8.
"Here he comes," Karthik slurred slightly, leaning heavily against the wall. "The finisher. Let's wrap this up."
Siddanth didn't mess around. He bowled fast, pinpoint yorkers.
44.3 Siddanth bowled a 151 kmph in-swinging yorker that completely shattered Wahab Riaz's middle stump.
46.1 Two overs later, he targeted the tailender, Sohail Khan. A fast, rising delivery caught the shoulder of the bat, and MS Dhoni took a safe catch behind the stumps.
$$COMMENTARY BOX - MATCH FINISH$$
Ian Bishop:"AND IT IS ALL OVER! MS Dhoni takes the catch, and India has bowled Pakistan out for 237! A comprehensive, clinical, and absolutely dominant 137-run victory for the defending champions! India extends their World Cup winning streak against Pakistan to 6-0!"
Harsha Bhogle:"They set a mountain of runs, and their bowlers, led by the brilliant Siddanth Deva, never gave Pakistan a single moment of hope. A spectacular start to their title defense!"
In Room 304, there was one final, exhausted cheer. They clinked their empty beer bottles together.
"Fifteen thousand turned into eighteen thousand seven hundred and fifty," Rahul calculated slowly, staring at his phone screen. "I am a financial genius."
"You are a coward who almost didn't place the bet," Karthik corrected him, throwing an empty paper plate at Rahul's head. "Now shush. The post-match presentation is starting."
$$POST-MATCH PRESENTATION - ADELAIDE OVAL$$
The presentation area was set up on the outfield. Harsha Bhogle stood with the microphone, surrounded by the gold and silver tournament hoardings.
"Ladies and gentlemen, what an incredible opening weekend to the 2015 ICC World Cup," Harsha announced to the cheering Adelaide crowd. "A brilliant 137-run victory for India. I think we all know who the Man of the Match is today. For an unbelievable 152 not out off 65 balls, and bowling figures of 4 for 28... please welcome Siddanth Deva!"
Siddanth walked up to the podium, wearing a fresh Indian training jacket. The stadium roared its approval.
Harsha Bhogle:"Siddanth, what a phenomenal performance. Let's talk about the batting first. 35 off your first 35 balls, and then 117 off your next 30. That is an astonishing gear shift. What was the conversation with Virat Kohli out there?"
"We just wanted to lay a solid foundation, Harsha," Siddanth said, his voice calm, polite, and entirely devoid of ego. "The pitch was a bit tacky early on, and Wahab and Irfan were hitting good lengths. We knew if we kept wickets in hand for the last fifteen overs, we could accelerate. Virat played a beautiful anchoring role, which just allowed me to swing freely at the end."
Harsha Bhogle:"Well, you certainly swung freely! But I have to ask about the bowling. You walked out with the new ball, and to everyone's absolute shock, you bowled your first over left-handed! Did you plan that, or was it a spontaneous decision to mess with Ahmed Shehzad?"
Siddanth offered a small, genuine smile. "It was planned. I am naturally ambidextrous, and Mahi bhai and I discussed it in the dressing room. Shehzad has a great record against right-arm pace, so we thought we'd try to disrupt his footwork with a different angle. Fortunately, the ball swung nicely, and it worked out."
Harsha Bhogle:"It certainly did! Four wickets to top off a massive century. A perfect start to the campaign. Congratulations, Siddanth."
"Thank you, Harsha."
As Siddanth collected his trophy on the television, the reality of the post-match binge finally caught up with the boys in Room 304.
The adrenaline crash was severe. The small room was suffocatingly hot, filled with the stale smell of empty beer bottles and spicy chicken bones.
Rahul was slumped against the wall, rubbing his tired eyes. Karthik was lying flat on his back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling fan. Raju was sitting on the floor, groaning softly as he held his stomach.
Suddenly, Shiva, who was sitting on the edge of the other bed, turned an unhealthy shade of pale green.
He stared at the floor, his eyes widening. "Guys."
"What?" Karthik mumbled, not moving.
"The... the biryani is swimming," Shiva slurred, his words thick and distressed.
Rahul opened his eyes just in time to see Shiva lunge forward.
"Bucket! Get the bucket!" Rahul screamed, scrambling backward in absolute terror.
Raju acted quickly, grabbing the empty plastic ice bucket that had previously held their beers, and shoved it directly under Shiva's face just as his stomach violently rebelled against the lethal combination of adrenaline, six Kingfisher Strongs, and double masala biryani.
The sound of retching filled the small room.
For a split second, Karthik and Rahul simply stared at the spectacle, and then, completely unable to help themselves, they burst into exhausted, hysterical laughter.
"Oh my god, he's actually dying!" Karthik wheezed, pointing at Shiva, who was hunched over the bucket. "The josh was too much! His body rejected the victory!"
"Don't laugh! It smells terrible!" Rahul yelled, though he was laughing too, pinching his nose and retreating toward the open balcony door to get some fresh air.
Shiva finally stopped retching, spitting into the bucket. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking up at his friends with bloodshot, confused eyes.
"Did... did Dhoni hit the six?" Shiva mumbled in absolute gibberish, swaying slightly. "Because the tractor needs new tires, mama. The tires are orange."
Karthik stopped laughing, his eyes widening in alarm. "What? What tractor? Shiva, are you okay?"
"He's speaking in code," Rahul panicked, stepping back into the room. "He drank too much! His brain is fried! Should we call the hostel warden?"
"Are you insane?! The warden will expel us for having alcohol in the room!" Karthik snapped.
Raju, sitting on the floor next to the bucket, suddenly held up a half-full bottle of warm Kingfisher with the absolute confidence of a seasoned medical professional.
"I know how to fix this," Raju declared sagely. "Hair of the dog, bros. Just make him drink another glass of beer. It cancels out the vomit. It's science."
Rahul and Karthik slowly turned their heads, looking at Raju with expressions of pure, unadulterated incredulity.
"Are you an actual psychopath?" Karthik asked, completely baffled by the suggestion. "He just threw up a kilo of chicken, and you want to give him more warm beer?!"
"It works! My uncle does it all the time!" Raju defended his terrible medical advice.
"Get him water, you idiot!" Rahul yelled, grabbing a clean water bottle from the desk and shoving it into Shiva's hands. "Drink this. Slowly. We are never letting you drink during an India-Pakistan match again."
As Shiva slowly sipped the water, still muttering quietly about orange tractors, the three friends looked at the messy, chaotic disaster that was their hostel room. The bet was won, the match was a legendary spectacle, and they had a massive cleanup job ahead of them before the warden's morning inspection.
It was the perfect, unforgettable Sunday.
@BarmyArmy: WAIT. Did Siddanth Deva just bowl left-arm fast to Ahmed Shehzad?! AND BOWLED HIM?! WHAT IS HAPPENING?! 🤯 #INDvPAK
@SwingKing: Deva literally switched to right-arm the next over and got Younis Khan at 149kmph. He is just playing with his food at this point. 💀 #INDvsPAK
@BhuviFanClub: Bhuvi swinging it around corners! Dhawan's slip catch to dismiss Sohail was an absolute blinder! 🇮🇳🔥 #CWC15
@HarshaBhogle: Score 152* and take 4/28. We are literally witnessing the greatest all-rounder in the history of the sport. 🐐
@CricketShitpost: From hoping to chase 375 to being 12/3 in 4 overs. The classic Pakistan World Cup collapse has arrived! 🇵🇰📉
@PaceIsPace: 151 kmph yorker to shatter Wahab's stumps! Deva took that Mohali 2011 rivalry personally. 🥶
@IndianCricketTeam: 6-0!!! The streak continues! The Mauka Mauka ad is going to hit so hard tomorrow! 🇮🇳🎆 #WeWontGiveItBack
@ICC: Never seen a more one-sided IND-PAK game. A 137-run victory! The defending champions have officially arrived in Australia! 🏆
@WorldCupUpdates: The rest of the World Cup teams watching India today: 👁️👄👁️ #CWC15
Thousands of miles away from the hostel room chaos, the atmosphere at the Adelaide Oval was slowly winding down. The massive crowds had mostly emptied out into the city streets, leaving the stadium relatively quiet.
Siddanth had finished his post-match media obligations, showered, and changed into a fresh set of dark blue BCCI track pants and a team polo. His kitbag was packed and waiting on the team bus.
He slipped out of the dressing room, pulling his phone from his pocket. He didn't head toward the main exit where the press photographers were still lurking. Instead, he navigated through a quiet, restricted-access corridor located just beneath the premium VIP hospitality boxes.
He stopped near a secluded security door and dialed Krithika's number. She picked up immediately.
"Where are you?" Siddanth asked quietly.
"Still in the VIP box," Krithika replied, the background noise of chatter evident on the line.
"Walk out of the box and turn left," Siddanth instructed smoothly. "Take the private elevator down to level one. I'm waiting near the staff corridor by section C. I don't want the security cameras catching us."
"I'm on my way," she said, hanging up.
Two minutes later, the heavy security door clicked open. Krithika stepped into the quiet corridor. She was wearing her bright blue India jersey, her hair pulled back neatly, looking incredibly happy.
Right behind her, entirely uninvited but absolutely unsurprising, was Anjali, holding her smartphone like a weapon.
"That was the most insane batting I have ever seen! 152 off 65 balls! I practically lost my hearing from screaming of fans." Anjali said with excitement.
"Anjali, can you give us some privacy. Go wait by the elevator," Krithika ordered her sister, pointing down the hall.
Anjali rolled her eyes. "Fine." She jogged back down the corridor, giving them a moment of privacy.
Krithika turned back to Siddanth, her smile softening into something much warmer and far more intimate. She closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms securely around his waist, burying her face against his chest.
Siddanth let out a slow, contented breath, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and resting his chin on top of her head. The physical exhaustion of the match finally settled into his bones, but holding her instantly anchored him.
"You were brilliant today," Krithika murmured against his shirt. "I don't think I've ever seen you hit the ball that hard."
"The pitch was perfect for it," he replied quietly.
She pulled back just enough to look up at him, a highly amused glint in her eyes. "And what on earth was that first over? Left-arm fast?"
"It was a tactical surprise," Siddanth smirked, pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Shehzad wasn't expecting the angle. It worked."
"You are such a show-off," she laughed softly, shaking her head. "But I'll admit, it was pretty cool."
"Are the hotels and everything sorted for you guys?" Siddanth asked, shifting back to his protective, logistical mindset. "Rahul made sure the travel arrangements to Melbourne for the next game are confirmed?"
"Yes, Mama's Boy. Rahul is incredibly efficient. Everything is perfect," Krithika assured him, gently tracing the BCCI logo on his chest. "We are going to explore Adelaide tomorrow while you guys rest."
Before Siddanth could reply, his phone buzzed sharply in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
Team Manager: Bus is leaving in 5. Where are you?
Siddanth sighed, pocketing the phone. "Duty calls. The bus is leaving."
"Go," Krithika said, stepping back with a smile. "You need to sleep anyway. You look exhausted."
"I am," he admitted. He leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. "Have fun tomorrow. Call me if you need anything."
"I will. Goodnight, Sid."
"Night, Krithi."
Siddanth turned and walked down the corridor toward the player exit. The opening battle of the World Cup had been won in spectacular fashion. The media would talk about his century and the bizarre left-arm wicket for weeks. But as he boarded the team bus and took his seat next to Virat Kohli, Siddanth's mind was already locking onto the next target.
The defense of the crown had just begun.
SIDDANTH DEVA - MATCH LOG
Match 1 vs Pakistan (Adelaide Oval) - INDIA WON (By 137 Runs)
Batting: 152* (65 balls)
Bowling: 4 for 28 (9.4 overs)