second Innings

The next morning's practice session felt different. Gone was the internal struggle between past and future techniques. Instead, I focused on what Dravid had said about cricket being like a river. Each shot was a confluence of eras â€" classical foundation with subtle hints of evolution.

The captain was bowling in the nets today, his medium pace typically used to help batsmen warm up. I took guard, letting my muscle memory find its natural balance between old and new. The first ball was full, heading for off stump. In 2024, this would be a perfect yorker-length delivery to counter. In 2004, it called for a textbook forward defensive.

I split the difference â€" started with the traditional forward press but adjusted my grip mid-stroke to open the face slightly. The ball threaded between slip and gully, a shot that wasn't quite contemporary but not yet future either. Natural progress.

"That's more like it," the captain nodded. "You're still playing those unconventional shots, but they don't look forced anymore."

During our strategy meeting later that day, the team analyst pulled up footage of international matches. Australia was pioneering aggressive field placements in Test cricket, England was experimenting with shorter run-ups for pace bowlers. The game was already changing, with or without my intervention.

"The challenge," our coach explained, "is adapting without losing our core strengths. Indian cricket has always been about technique and temperament."

I couldn't help but smile. In twenty years, India would be known for its fearless approach to all formats, but that transformation would be built on the very foundation our coach was emphasizing. Evolution, not revolution.

That evening, I found myself in an unexpected conversation with our wicketkeeper, a veteran of domestic cricket who had narrowly missed national selection several times.

"You know what's funny?" he said, watching me practice. "Everyone talks about how cricket is changing, but the best players have always been innovators. Ranji invented the leg glance. Sobers could bowl six different ways. Maybe what looks revolutionary today is just tomorrow's textbook."

His words stuck with me as I worked in the nets. Each era of cricket had its innovators, its bridge-builders. Some of the shots I'd learned in 2024 weren't really new â€" they were variations of strokes that already existed, refined and repurposed over decades.

I opened my diary again:

"Time travel creates an interesting paradox in cricket. Did these shots and strategies develop naturally over time, or did watching future cricket influence their development? But maybe that's the wrong question. Innovation doesn't happen in isolation â€" it's a conversation between past and present, tradition and progress.

Every time I bat now, I'm not just playing cricket from different eras. I'm participating in the sport's ongoing evolution. The sweep shot against pace bowling, the variations in grip for different deliveries â€" these aren't future techniques I'm importing. They're natural progressions waiting to be discovered.

Perhaps that's why I'm here. Not to revolutionize the game, but to be part of its natural flow. To help cricket find the path it was always going to take."

As the sun set over the practice grounds, I watched junior cricketers in the adjacent nets. One young batsman was already experimenting with switch hits, though his technique was raw. Another had developed an unusual grip that seemed to help him play late cuts more effectively.

The river was flowing, just as Dravid had said. My presence here wasn't changing its course â€" I was just another current in its endless journey, carrying cricket from what it was to what it would become.

Tomorrow would bring our first practice match. For the first time since arriving in 2004, I felt ready to bat not as a time traveler hiding his knowledge, but as a cricketer embracing the game's constant evolution. After all, in any era, that's what cricket demands of its players â€" the wisdom to respect its traditions and the courage to push its boundaries.