The international summer had finally come to an end.
When Siddanth Deva struck the winning runs at Lord's, India had completed a clean sweep of their white-ball campaign against England. The team had won both the T20I and ODI series, and Deva had once again left his mark on the tour.
But the international calendar offered little time to celebrate.
Within forty-eight hours of the Lord's victory, the Indian squad boarded a chartered aircraft and crossed the Atlantic, leaving England's grey skies behind for the heat of the Caribbean.
The West Indies and United States tour consisted of three ODIs in Port of Spain followed by a five-match T20I series spread across the Caribbean before finishing in Lauderhill, Florida.
The opposition had plenty of power hitters, but India controlled the tour from start to finish.
Deva rotated his bowlers carefully, using his fast bowlers and spinners according to the match situation.
When India chased, the top order consistently handled the targets.
Three ODIs.
Five T20Is.
Eight matches.
Eight victories.
Two more series sweeps went onto the team's record.
It had been two months of continuous travel and cricket.
By the time the final wicket fell in Florida on August 7, the players were exhausted. Shoulders ached, ribs were bruised, and everyone had accumulated the fatigue that came with constant flights and matches.
Yet the mood aboard the charter flight home was calm.
The tour was finished.
The team was going home.
---
Morning light spread across the Deccan Plateau as the Range Rover passed through the iron gates of the Shamshabad estate.
Siddanth Deva sat in the back seat, looking through the tinted window.
The last sixty days had left him tired.
There had been flights across multiple time zones, international matches, fast bowling, media appearances, and very little sleep.
He had barely rested during the twenty-hour journey from Miami to Hyderabad.
But as the SUV moved down the long driveway, the pressure of being India's captain slowly began to disappear.
Mango trees lined the road.
The vehicle stopped near the veranda.
Deva opened the door himself.
He reached into the trunk and pulled out his two SG kitbags, carrying them over his shoulders.
Then he walked up the steps.
The farmhouse doors were already open.
Deva crossed the threshold and dropped the bags onto the polished wooden floor.
The sound echoed through the foyer.
Then came silence.
He stopped.
Usually, the sound of the front doors opening was enough to bring two sets of small footsteps running toward him.
Today, there was nothing.
Only the air conditioning.
"Sid?"
He turned.
Krithika was coming down the staircase.
She wore a pale blue cotton kurta, her hair tied into a loose braid.
The moment she saw him, she hurried down the remaining steps.
Deva caught her and lifted her into a hug.
She wrapped her arms around his neck.
"You're home," she whispered.
"I'm home."
He lowered her back to the floor but kept his hands around her waist.
"God, I missed you."
"We missed you too."
"You look exhausted. How was the flight?"
"Long."
Deva rested his forehead against hers for a moment before looking around.
Then he noticed the silence again.
"Where is everyone?"
His expression changed.
"Where are the monsters?"
Krithika hesitated.
"Sid... you just missed them."
Deva blinked.
"Missed them?"
"They went to school."
He stared at her.
"Mamayya took them about thirty minutes ago."
Krithika sighed.
"I tried to delay them, but Aadhya wanted to show her new shoes to her teacher. Rishi had already decided that it was time to leave because his schedule said so."
Deva said nothing for a moment.
For two months, one of the thoughts that had kept him going during the tour had been the idea of walking through the farmhouse doors and seeing his children.
Now he had missed them by thirty minutes.
"Thirty minutes."
He rubbed a hand over his face.
"I flew across the planet, and I missed them by thirty minutes."
"I know, baby."
Krithika rubbed his arm.
"They'll be home at three. Go upstairs, take a shower, and sleep."
"I'm not tired."
Krithika gave him a look.
"You are exhausted."
She took his hand.
"Come upstairs."
Deva followed.
He took a long shower, changed into grey sweatpants and a dark T-shirt, and climbed into bed.
Krithika lay beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.
Deva closed his eyes.
Forty-five minutes later, they opened again.
He stared at the ceiling.
Sleep wasn't coming.
His mind had become focused on one fact.
His children were three miles away.
He slowly moved out of bed, careful not to disturb Krithika.
For the next three hours, he wandered around the house.
He drank three cups of black coffee.
He sat in his office and opened a a bacteria notes, but absorbed none of it.
He went outside and threw a tennis ball for Ronnie until he became bored and settled beneath a chair.
At 1:45 PM, Deva finally gave up pretending he could wait.
He returned to the foyer and called his head of security.
"Shetty."
"Yes, sir? Welcome home, boss."
"I need the Range Rover brought to the front."
"Of course, sir. Do you need a driver?"
"No."
Deva picked up his keys.
"I'm driving. Stand down the escort vehicles. No convoy. I'm going to the school."
"Understood, sir."
Ten minutes later, Deva was behind the wheel.
The Range Rover left the estate and turned onto the roads of Shamshabad.
The school was only fifteen minutes away.
Deva reached the pickup zone at 2:15.
The bell wouldn't ring until 2:30.
He was early.
He switched off the engine and stood beside the SUV with his arms crossed.
The parking area gradually filled.
Mercedes.
BMWs.
Audi SUVs.
Porsches.
Parents stepped out carrying phones and handbags, checking messages and talking among themselves.
Then they began noticing Deva.
He was standing there in grey sweatpants and a black T-shirt, six-foot-two, with his thick beard and athletic frame.
The whispers began.
Some parents recognized him immediately.
Deva ignored them.
His attention remained fixed on the Early Years building.
At 2:30, an electronic chime sounded across the campus.
The glass doors opened.
Children began coming outside.
Teachers guided them toward the courtyard as parents called their names.
Deva scanned the crowd.
Then he saw them.
Rishi's shirt was still tucked in.
His backpack was properly secured over both shoulders.
Aadhya's shirt was half untucked.
One ribbon was missing.
Her backpack hung from one arm.
They came down the steps, looking for Vikram.
Deva pushed away from the SUV.
"Rishi! Aadhya!"
Both children froze.
They looked around.
Then they saw him.
For a moment, they simply stared.
"NANA!"
Aadhya dropped her backpack.
She sprinted across the courtyard.
Rishi followed.
He kept his backpack on, but his face changed completely as he ran.
Deva dropped to his knees.
Aadhya reached him first.
He caught her and pulled her against his chest.
Rishi arrived a second later and wrapped his arms around Deva's neck.
Deva lifted both children.
He kissed their heads.
"I missed you so much, monsters."
"Nana came back!" Aadhya said, grabbing his beard.
"I am here."
Deva looked at Rishi.
"Did you miss me, buddy?"
Rishi didn't answer.
He simply held tighter.
Deva stood, carrying one child on each hip.
The parents nearby smiled.
The moment had become something more familiar than celebrity recognition.
A father had come back for his children.
Deva nodded politely to the teacher who bought the dropped backpack and carried the twins to the Range Rover.
Inside the SUV, he secured both of them in their seats.
Then he took the driver's seat.
They left the school.
Deva glanced at the rearview mirror.
Rishi was looking out of the window.
Aadhya was kicking her feet and humming.
Deva smiled.
"So," he asked, "how was school today?"
The humming stopped.
Both children looked toward him.
"Boring."
Deva laughed.
"Boring? You have a playground, blocks, paints, and a music room."
Aadhya crossed her arms.
"We paint shapes."
She sighed.
"The lady say paint a circle. Nana, I know a circle."
She shook her head.
"I want to paint a dragon. The lady say no dragons."
Deva smiled.
"You still have to follow the curriculum."
He glanced at them.
"What about the other kids? Did you make any friends?"
The twins looked at each other.
"We tried," Rishi said.
"What happened?"
Rishi took a breath.
"They are slow, Nana."
"Slow? Running?"
"No."
He continued.
"We had free play. A boy named Kabir wanted to build a castle. I said okay."
Rishi paused.
"He put two tall blocks down and a flat block on top. The gap was too wide."
Deva already knew where this was going.
"The design was flawed."
Deva tried not to laugh.
"Did it fall?"
"Yes."
Rishi sighed.
"Kabir ate a red crayon instead. I cannot work in these conditions."
Deva broke into laughter.
Krithika would have loved this.
"Rishi, buddy, Kabir is four. Most four-year-olds don't know about designing."
Rishi thought about it.
"I will try."
Then he added:
"But it is inefficient."
Deva looked at Aadhya through the mirror.
"What about you, monster? Did you make friends?"
"Yes. We play tag."
"That's good."
"No."
Aadhya shook her head.
"The kids run away. But they run in a straight line. They don't feint and change directions."
Deva laughed.
"I ran at a boy. I did a feint. I dropped my left shoulder. He got confused and fell."
She frowned.
"The teacher said I am too aggressive."
Aadhya pointed toward the roof.
"I am not aggressive! I am using agility. They have no footwork. If they are slow, they lose!"
Deva had to concentrate on driving.
They passed through the estate gates.
He looked at the twins again.
"All right," Deva said, pulling the Range Rover toward the farmhouse. "I understand your complaints."
He parked near the steps.
"We'll discuss a more advanced curriculum."
Rishi nodded.
Aadhya raised a hand.
"Can I tackle Kabir tomorrow?"
"No tackling Kabir."
Deva opened the rear door.
"Come on. Let's go inside."
Krithika was sitting at the kitchen island with a tablet, reviewing Foundation documents.
The house was noisy again.
Deva walked in carrying Aadhya on his back while Rishi held his hand.
He placed them on the barstools.
"All right, monsters. You survived school."
He looked at them.
"What do you want for a snack?"
"Dosa!" Aadhya answered immediately.
"Dosa," Rishi agreed.
He looked at Deva.
"Not thick. Paper thin."
Deva waited.
"A crispy ghee roast," Deva translated.
"And the chutneys?"
"Three," Rishi replied.
He raised three fingers.
"Coconut. Tomato. Peanut. Equal portions."
"All right go freshen up, I will prepare them by the time you come back."
He walked into the kitchen.
"Execution."
He rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands.
He didn't need a cooking skill.
Deva opened the refrigerator.
He brought out the fermented dosa batter.
Then coconuts, peanuts, tomatoes, green chilies, and homemade ghee.
The kitchen became busy.
He cracked the coconut.
Roasted the peanuts.
Prepared the tomato mixture.
Mustard seeds crackled in hot oil.
Curry leaves followed.
The aroma spread through the room.
Rishi and Aadhya who just came back after freshening up watched from their stools.
Fifteen minutes later, three bowls sat on the counter.
White coconut chutney.
Red tomato chutney.
Brown peanut chutney.
Then Deva heated the cast-iron tawa.
He tested it with a few drops of water.
They hissed and disappeared.
"Ready."
He poured the batter onto the center.
His hand moved smoothly as he spread it in circles.
The dosa became thin across the surface.
He added ghee around the edges and waited.
"Watch the edges."
Rishi leaned closer.
"When they lift and turn golden, it's ready."
The edges curled.
Deva slid the spatula underneath.
He didn't flip the dosa.
He rolled it into a tight cylinder.
The crisp surface cracked as it folded.
He placed it on a large plate and arranged the chutneys around it.
"Eat."
Rishi picked up the edge.
He pressed it lightly.
Snap.
The dosa broke cleanly.
Rishi looked at his father.
"Nice, Nana."
Deva smiled.
"I aim to please."
Aadhya grabbed a piece from Rishi plate and dipped it into the peanut chutney.
She took a bite.
Her expression changed.
She approved.
Krithika watched from the other side of the island.
"You are such a show-off."
"I am a man of execution."
Deva leaned over and kissed her cheek.
"If you do something, do it well."
---
The heat of the afternoon faded as evening approached.
The family moved toward the rear of the estate.
Instead of the garden, they went to the turf facility Deva used for training.
The floodlights remained off.
The evening light covered the field.
Deva was barefoot and wearing grey sweatpants.
He held a soft football.
"All right!"
The twins looked at him.
"Two against one."
He pointed toward the goal.
"If you get the ball past me, you get ice cream after dinner."
Aadhya immediately charged.
She ran straight at him.
Deva sidestepped her and moved the ball away.
"Too slow, monster!"
Rishi took a different approach.
He moved toward the right side and positioned himself near the net.
Krithika sat just outside the turf watching them.
Deva deliberately made a mistake.
He stumbled.
Then he dropped onto the turf.
"Oh no!"
He raised both arms.
"I've been defeated by elite footwork!"
Aadhya screamed with delight.
She kicked the ball into the net and raised both arms.
Rishi walked over.
He studied his father.
"Your center of gravity was too high, Nana."
Deva laughed.
"Thank you for the analysis, coach."
He grabbed Rishi and pulled him onto the turf, tickling him until the boy finally laughed.
Krithika smiled.
As the sun disappeared beyond the estate, Deva lay back on the turf with his children against his chest.
He looked up at the darkening sky.
The world knew Siddanth Deva as a captain, cricketer, businessman, and architect.
Here, he was simply Nana.
And for him, that was enough.