August had just begun. The air hung heavy with humidity, turning the Kabaddi ground slick and unpredictable. Siddharth Sir stood at the edge of the ground, his whistle in hand, while the boys were lined up, catching their breath. It was an intense practice session, and the A vs B practice match was in full swing.
Arjun, with his calm demeanor and quick reflexes, made a successful raid, touching two defenders before rushing back to his side. The boys from Team B erupted in cheers, patting Arjun on the back.
Siddharth Sir nodded in approval. "Good raid! Keep that pace," he shouted.
Arjun wiped the sweat from his brow, his breath steady, but inside, a flicker of doubt remained. I got through this time... but what if they're just going easy on me? What if they're watching, waiting for me to slip? He looked at the defenders regrouping. Among them stood Vikrant—fierce, relentless, experienced.
Just as the excitement settled, Vikrant entered from the opposite side with a determined glare. The whistle blew again, and Vikrant launched his raid. Agile and fierce, he managed to dodge Lalit's tackle and tagged three players before escaping.
The celebration this time came from the other end of the ground, where Yogita and her friends were watching. They clapped and cheered, clearly favoring Vikrant.
Karan glanced at them and then at Arjun, noticing his friend's focused yet subdued reaction.
Arjun saw the cheers, saw Yogita's smile—just faint enough to feel like a twist. That's the kind of player they look up to… the kind who makes the ground shake when he plays. He swallowed hard, forcing a small smile. I'm not here to impress them. Just the game. Just the game.
The match continued, both sides equally matched, until the final bell rang without a decisive winner. As they dispersed, Lalit whispered to Arjun, "You know, Vikrant, Rahul, and Santosh have been playing Kabaddi for the school since seventh grade. They're experienced. If ZP matches happen this year, they might get selected."
Nearby, Yogita and her friends laughed at something Vikrant said. Arjun glanced in their direction, but when their eyes met, both looked away, pretending the moment didn't happen.
In the principal's office, Minakshi Mam was reviewing some paperwork when Siddharth Sir knocked and entered.
"Come in, Siddharth," Minakshi Mam greeted, motioning him to sit. "The management has decided on the sports selection for this year. Due to parental pressure and the upcoming competitive exams, 12th standard students will not participate. We'll focus on fewer sports—Kabaddi, cricket as outdoor events, and chess and swimming as indoor events. I want you to form the Kabaddi team as soon as possible."
Siddharth Sir nodded. "Understood, Ma'am. I'll focus on selecting the best players."
A few days later, Siddharth Sir finalized the team. To everyone's surprise, he announced Arjun as the captain. The news spread quickly. Most of the boys seemed content, but Vikrant's face fell. His jaw clenched. Without a word, he turned and walked off the ground, the silence around him sharper than any whistle.
That evening, Vikrant's father, Prabhakarrao Jadhav, a local politician, noticed his son's gloomy face. "What's wrong, Vikrant?" he asked.
Vikrant hesitated before replying, "Sir made Arjun the captain. I deserved that spot. I've been playing for years, and he's new. It's unfair."
Prabhakarrao smirked. "Sometimes, it's not just about performance. Leave it to me. I'll handle it."
The next day, Principal Minakshi Mam was in her cabin when there was a knock at the door. "Come in," she said.
Prashant Sir entered, holding a form. "Good morning, Ma'am. I've been assigned to assist with the sports activities. Here's the approval form from the management."
Minakshi Mam smiled warmly. "Welcome, Prashant. Siddharth will be glad to have some support. Join him for the next few sessions and get acquainted."
For the next week, Prashant Sir observed the practices without interference. He noted the boys' coordination, especially Arjun's calm leadership. But his eyes often wandered towards Vikrant, noticing his athleticism and aggression.
One morning, during a practice match, Arjun attempted a raid but was tackled hard by Rahul. As Arjun stumbled, Prashant Sir shouted, "Careful! That's too rough!"
Siddharth Sir intervened, raising his hand. "Let them play, Prashant. Arjun needs to learn to handle aggressive tackles. It's part of the game."
Prashant Sir frowned. "But he's the captain. He can't afford injuries."
Siddharth remained firm. "That's exactly why he needs to toughen up. Leadership on the ground comes from resilience, not just tactics."
The tension between the two teachers was evident. Siddharth Sir, valuing discipline and growth, clashed with Prashant Sir, who seemed to favor protecting potential rather than challenging it.
The argument escalated, prompting Minakshi Mam to call them both to her office. As they sat down, Minakshi asked, "What's the issue?"
Prashant Sir voiced his concern. "Ma'am, I feel Vikrant, being more experienced, should lead. Arjun's leadership is untested."
Siddharth Sir countered, "Arjun's composure under pressure is exactly why I picked him. Kabaddi isn't just about past records; it's about current capability."
After hearing both sides, Minakshi Mam took a deep breath. "Since there's disagreement, I think it's best to resolve this on the ground. Let's have an internal competition after the half-semester exams. The best performer will earn the captaincy."
Both teachers agreed reluctantly. The announcement on the notice board the next day read:
"Internal Kabaddi Match - Post Half-Semester Exams. Final Team and Captain to be selected based on performance."
The boys, seeing the notice, knew that the real battle for leadership had just begun.
Arjun sat alone on the bleachers, Karan beside him. "Does it bother you?" Karan asked.
Arjun smiled faintly. "It's not about being the captain. It's about proving myself on the field. If Vikrant is better, he should lead. But I won't give up without a fight."
Meanwhile, Vikrant, sitting on his porch at home, was determined. "This time, I'll show them who truly deserves to lead," he muttered to himself.
The stage was set. The competition was no longer just about skill—it was a battle of pride, of leadership, and the quiet war between past and present.