Kapil Sharma collapsed back into his armchair, genuinely exhausted from physically dragging the elderly character off the stage. He took a long sip of water before turning back to his guest.
"Siddanth, main maafi chahta hoon. Mere ghar wale sab ke sab pagal hain," (Siddanth, I apologize. Everyone in my house is entirely insane,) Kapil laughed, pointing a thumb toward the exit doors. "Aap maidan pe opponents ko thakate ho, aur yahan in logon ne aapko thaka diya!" (You exhaust your opponents on the field, and here these people have exhausted you!)
"Nahi, nahi, mazaa aaya. Main toh soch raha hoon Dadi ko fast bowling coach bana doon. Jis speed se woh aayi thi, batsman dar jayega!" (No, no, it was fun. I am actually thinking of making Dadi our fast bowling coach. The speed at which she charged in, the batsmen will be terrified!) Siddanth quipped back flawlessly, settling comfortably back onto the couch.
The audience cheered at the sporting response.
"Chaliye, ab Dadi chali gayi hai toh hum thoda serious ho jate hain," (Alright, now that Dadi is gone, let's get a little bit serious,) Kapil announced, picking up a fresh stack of cue cards. "Humne aapki batting dekhi hai, aapki bowling dekhi hai. Lekin hume 'Siddanth Deva the person' ke baare mein aur janna hai. Toh hum karenge ek chota sa Rapid-Fire round. Seedha sawaal, aur aapko pehli cheez jo dimaag mein aaye, woh bolni hai. Taiyaar?" (We have seen your batting, we have seen your bowling. But we want to know more about 'Siddanth Deva the person'. So we will do a short Rapid-Fire round. Straight questions, and you have to say the very first thing that comes to your mind. Ready?)
"Poochiye," (Ask,) Siddanth nodded, leaning slightly forward.
"Pehla sawaal. Aapki all-time favorite movie?" (First question. Your all-time favorite movie?) Kapil fired.
"Athadu," Siddanth answered instantly, without a second of hesitation.
Kapil blinked, clearly unfamiliar with the title. "Athadu? Yeh Hollywood movie hai?" (Athadu? Is this a Hollywood movie?)
"Telugu movie hai," (It is a Telugu movie,) Siddanth smiled, a genuine, fanboy glint entering his eyes. "Mahesh Babu ki. Maine woh movie kam se kam ek sau baar dekhi hogi. Aur main usey aur ek sau baar dekh sakta hoon bina bore hue. It is a masterpiece." (It's a Mahesh Babu movie. I must have watched that movie at least a hundred times. And I can easily watch it another hundred times without getting bored.)
"Ek sau baar?!" (A hundred times?!) Kapil gasped. "Bhai, DVD ghis gayi hogi aapki!" (Brother, your DVD must have worn out completely!)
The audience laughed.
"Chalo, acting ki baat chal rahi hai toh... favorite actor?" (Alright, since we are talking about acting... favorite actor?) Kapil asked next.
"Prabhas," Siddanth stated simply, referring to the towering Telugu superstar.
"Aur Hindi cinema mein?" (And in Hindi cinema?) Kapil probed, looking for a Bollywood name.
"Irrfan Khan," Siddanth replied immediately, his tone shifting slightly to reflect deep respect. "Unki aankhein acting karti hain. Screen presence unmatched hai." (His eyes do the acting. His screen presence is unmatched.)
"Kya baat hai, bohot umda choice," (What a statement, very excellent choice,) Kapil nodded approvingly. "Aur favorite actress?" (And favorite actress?)
Siddanth grinned, crossing his arms and leaning back. "Kapil, maine abhi paanch minute pehle poore desh ke saamne bola hai. Madhuri Dixit. Main apna answer change nahi karunga." (Kapil, I literally just told the entire country five minutes ago. Madhuri Dixit. I am not changing my answer.)
The crowd hooted loudly, appreciating his consistency.
Kapil laughed, moving to the next card. "Thik hai. Ek teammate jiske saath aap kabhi bhi hotel room share nahi karna chahenge?" (Alright. One teammate with whom you would never want to share a hotel room?)
"Ravindra Jadeja," Siddanth answered instantly, his face deadpan.
"Kyun? Kharate maarte hain?" (Why? Does he snore?) Kapil probed, his comedic radar twitching for dressing-room gossip.
"No comments, Kapil paaji," Siddanth smirked, holding his hands up defensively. "Agar maine yahan kuch bola, toh woh net practice mein mere sar pe ball marega. Main zinda rehna chahta hoon." (No comments, Kapil paaji. If I say anything here, he will throw the ball at my head during net practice. I want to stay alive.)
"Best dressed cricketer in the Indian team?" (Best dressed cricketer in the Indian team?)
"Virat Kohli," Siddanth acknowledged easily. "Uski wardrobe collection ka budget shayad kisi chote desh ki GDP ke barabar hoga." (The budget for his wardrobe collection is probably equal to the GDP of a small country.)
The audience roared at the economic roast of the Indian superstar.
"Favorite cheat meal?"
"Biryani. Specifically, meri mummy ke haath ki mutton biryani. Uske saamne duniya ka koi five-star restaurant nahi tikta." (Biryani. Specifically, the mutton biryani made by my mother. No five-star restaurant in the world can stand against it.)
"Sahi baat hai, maa ke haath ke khane mein jo magic hai, woh kahin nahi," (That is absolutely correct, the magic in a mother's cooking is nowhere else,) Kapil agreed warmly. "Early morning net practice, ya late-night party?" (Early morning net practice, or a late-night party?)
"Practice. Hamesha," (Practice. Always,) Siddanth stated, the discipline that had made him the world's best player shining clearly through. "Parties aapko run nahi banate." (Parties don't score runs for you.)
"Batting ya bowling?" (Batting or bowling?)
"Bowling," Siddanth answered instantly, surprising a few people in the audience. "Batsman ko out karna, uske stumps hawa mein udte dekhna... usse behtar feeling duniya mein koi nahi hai." (Getting a batsman out, watching his stumps fly in the air... there is no better feeling in the world.)
Kapil's eyes lit up mischievously. He leaned forward, pointing his cue card towards the side stage.
"Stumps udte dekhne ka mazaa hi alag hai," (Watching the stumps fly is a different joy altogether,) Kapil agreed, before completely changing his target. "Waise Siddanth, stumps udne ki baat chali hai toh... kya aapne kabhi Sidhu paaji ka woh famous match dekha hai jahan Waqar Younis ne inko bowling ki thi?" (By the way Siddanth, since we are talking about flying stumps... have you ever seen that famous match of Sidhu paaji where Waqar Younis bowled to him?)
Navjot Singh Sidhu instantly stopped laughing, his eyes widening as he realized exactly where the conversation was heading. "Oye Kapil! Tu udhar kyun jaa raha hai?!" (Oye Kapil! Why are you going there?!)
Kapil completely ignored him, turning to the audience with a massive grin. "Deviyon aur sajjano, Siddanth duniya ke best fast bowlers mein se ek hain. Lekin ek zamaana tha jab Waqar Younis apni peak par the. Inhone Sidhu paaji ko aisi in-swinging yorker daali thi... paaji pitch par pitch dhoondh rahe the, aur stumps boundary line pe mil rahe the!" (Ladies and gentlemen, Siddanth is one of the best fast bowlers in the world. But there was a time when Waqar Younis was at his peak. He bowled such an in-swinging yorker to Sidhu paaji... paaji was looking for the pitch on the ground, and the stumps were found at the boundary line!)
The audience completely lost it. Siddanth burst out laughing, clapping his hands.
"Pehli hi ball par out hue the! Golden duck!" (Got out on the very first ball! Golden duck!) Kapil wheezed, physically demonstrating the stumps flying backward. "Inko pata hi nahi chala match shuru ho gaya hai! Umpire ne bola 'Out', inko laga match start hone ki whistle baji hai!" (He didn't even realize the match had started! The umpire said 'Out', he thought the starting whistle had blown!)
"Oye chup kar kutte!" (Oye shut up, dog!) Sidhu roared from his chair, his face red, trying to defend himself amidst the hysterical laughter of the studio. "Waqar ki woh ball nahi thi, woh bullet thi! Insaan ko insaan na samjhe, aisi speed thi uski! Tu kya samjhega, tune toh bachpan mein sirf rubber ki ball se khela hai!" (That wasn't a ball from Waqar, that was a bullet! He didn't treat humans like humans, such was his speed! What will you understand, you have only played with a rubber ball in your childhood!)
"Paaji bilkul sahi keh rahe hain," (Brother is absolutely right,) Siddanth chimed in smoothly, coming to the veteran's defense while still chuckling. "Waqar younis ki pace aur swing unplayable thi. Waqt kisi ka bhi kharab ho sakta hai pace ke aage." (Waqar younis' pace and swing were unplayable. Anyone can have a bad time against that kind of pace.)
"Dekh le! Isey kehte hain samajhdar insaan!" (Look at him! This is what you call a sensible person!) Sidhu pointed at Siddanth proudly. "Tu toh bas taang kheenchna jaanta hai!" (You only know how to pull legs!)
Kapil wiped his eyes, still chuckling as he moved to the final card. "Acha, aakhri sawaal,"(And the final question,). "Aapne apni life mein bohot success dekhi hai. Paise kamaye hain, naam kamaya hai. Jab aapko aapki pehli badi success mili, toh sabse pehli cheez aapne kya kharidi thi? Koi sports car, ya koi bada ghar?" (You have seen a lot of success in your life. You have earned money, you have earned a name. When you achieved your first major success, what was the very first thing you bought?)
"Sports car nahi," (Not a sports car,) Siddanth smiled a very soft, nostalgic smile. "Meri pehli badi purchase silver color ki Maruti Swift thi. Aur mere paas woh gaadi aaj bhi hai. Main aaj bhi Hyderabad mein wahi chalata hoon." (My first major purchase was a silver-colored Maruti Swift. And I still own that car today. I still drive it around Hyderabad today.)
The studio audience, expecting to hear about a Ferrari or a mansion, immediately broke into a loud, incredibly warm round of applause. The grounded, middle-class reality of the world's most terrifying cricketer deeply resonated with every single person in the room.
"Kya baat hai!" (What a thing!) Sidhu roared from his chair, thumping his desk. "Asli ameer woh nahi jiske paas mehengi gaadiyan hain, asli ameer woh hai jo apni zameen se juda hua hai! Thoko taali!" (The real rich person is not the one who owns expensive cars; the real rich person is the one who stays connected to his roots! Clap your hands!)
"Bohot khoobsurat baat," (A very beautiful thing,) Kapil said, genuinely impressed. "Paisa insaan ko badalta hai, par aapko nahi badal paya." (Money changes a person, but it couldn't change you.)
Before Kapil could transition into the next segment, the heavy set doors burst open again.
A loud, distinct screech echoed through the studio.
"Kappiilllll, oye Kappiilllll!"
Raju, the iconic, perpetually annoyed servant of the Sharma household—played brilliantly by Chandan Prabhakar—slouched onto the stage. He was wearing his trademark shabby clothes, a towel thrown casually over his shoulder, carrying a tray with two empty, incredibly dirty glass cups.
"Lo, aa gaya naya aafat," (Great, the new disaster has arrived,) Kapil groaned, putting a hand over his face.
Raju completely ignored his boss. He walked straight over to the coffee table and stared directly at Siddanth Deva. He looked at Deva up and down with an expression of judgment.
"Oye, tu kaun hai? Naya driver rakha hai kya isne?" (Oye, who are you? Has he hired a new driver?) Raju asked Siddanth in his trademark, dragging tone, pointing an accusatory finger at Kapil.
The audience immediately burst out laughing.
"Oye pagal aadmi! Tameez se baat kar!" (Oye crazy man! Talk with some respect!) Kapil yelled, jumping up. "Yeh duniya ka No. 1 Batsmam hai! Inhone duniya ke best bowlers ki dhulai ki hai!" (He is the world's No.1 Batsman! He has thrashed the best bowlers in the world!)
"Acha?" (Oh really?) Raju sneered, looking entirely unimpressed. He leaned closer to Siddanth. "Bhai, agar itna hi zor hai tere hathon mein, toh yeh table saaf karke dikha. Main toh thak gaya hoon is ghar mein kaam karke. Aur yeh Kapil mujhe poore din mein sirf ek katori Maggi khilata hai!" (Brother, if there is so much strength in your hands, then show me by cleaning this table. I am exhausted working in this house. And this Kapil only feeds me one bowl of Maggi in the entire day!)
Siddanth let out a loud laugh, picking up the dirty glasses from the table and handing them to Raju. "Bhai, main fast bowler hoon, safai karamchari nahi. Aur agar Kapil paaji khana nahi dete, toh tu meri team mein aaja. Wahan roz biryani milti hai." (Brother, I am a fast bowler, not a cleaning staff. And if Kapil paaji doesn't give you food, then come join my team. We get biryani every single day there.)
"Dekha Kapil?!" (See Kapil?!) Raju yelled triumphantly, turning to his boss. "Isey kehte hain asli mard! Ek tu hai kanjoos makhichoos! Main chala inki team mein! Main wahan jaake unke pads dhoya karunga!" (This is what you call a real man! You are just a massive miser! I am leaving to join his team! I will go there and wash their batting pads!)
"Tu yahan se bahar nikal pehle!" (You get out of here first!) Kapil yelled, physically grabbing Raju by the collar of his shabby shirt and trying to shove him toward the exit.
But before Kapil could throw his servant out, another loud, chaotic commotion erupted from the back of the set.
"Arre oye! Piche hato sab!" (Hey! Everyone move back!)
Two figures strutted onto the stage, bringing an immediate wave of pure comedic chaos. It was Kapil's father-in-law, played by the legendary Sunil Grover, dressed in an oversized, garish suit, and alongside him was the notorious Laccha Yadav, played by Kiku Sharda, wearing a bright yellow t-shirt and track pants.
"Sasur ji, aap yahan kya kar rahe hain?" (Father-in-law, what are you doing here?) Kapil groaned, completely abandoning Raju.
"Oye chup kar kappu!" (Oye shut up, Kappu!) Sunil Grover snapped in character, adjusting his fake mustache. "Main yahan tere show ke liye nahi aaya hoon! Main yahan apne naye best friend Siddanth se milne aaya hoon!" (I am not here for your show! I am here to meet my new best friend, Siddanth!)
Laccha Yadav enthusiastically jogged up to the couch, pulling a soft, neon green tennis ball out of his pocket.
"Siddanth!" Laccha grinned widely, bouncing the tennis ball. "Aap world ka best batsman ho skathe hai! Par main apne gaon ka sabse khatarnak fast bowler hoon! Mera naam sunke gaon ke kutte rona shuru kar dete hain!" (Siddanth! You might be world's best batsman! But I am the most dangerous fast bowler in my village! Hearing my name, the village dogs start crying!)
"Woh teri shakal dekh ke rote hain, teri bowling se nahi!" (They cry looking at your face, not your bowling!) Kapil roasted him flawlessly, pointing at his bizarre outfit.
The audience completely lost it. Siddanth was laughing so hard he had to hold his stomach, thoroughly enjoying the unscripted, chaotic energy of the cast.
"Beech mein mat bol!" (Don't speak in the middle!) Laccha yelled at Kapil before turning back to Siddanth. "Siddanth, aaj ho jaye ek over? Main ball daloonga, aap batting karoge! Yahi isi stage pe!" (Siddanth, shall we play one over today? I will bowl, you will bat! Right here on this stage!)
Siddanth stood up instantly, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. "Chal, aa ja. Dekhte hain tere gaon ki bowling mein kitna dum hai." (Come on, let's do it. Let's see how much power your village bowling has.)
"Dada! Ek bat lana!" (Dada! Bring a bat!) Kapil shouted to the production crew.
A crew member rushed forward and handed Siddanth a standard cricket bat used for gully cricket.
Siddanth took his guard right in front of the famous couch. Kapil's father-in-law appointed himself as the umpire, standing directly behind Siddanth, completely ignoring the fact that he was blocking the camera's view.
Laccha Yadav walked back to the very edge of the stage, near the exit doors, to mark his run-up.
"Dekh Siddanth," (Look Siddanth,) Laccha yelled from the distance, pointing a dramatic finger. "Meri ball bullet train ki tarah aayegi! Tera bat toot jayega!" (My ball will come like a bullet train! Your bat will break!)
"Daal toh pehle, bhai," (Just bowl the ball first, brother,) Siddanth smiled, tapping the plastic bat on the wooden stage floor.
Laccha sprinted in. He did a ridiculous, highly exaggerated leaping action, throwing his arms completely out of sync, and hurled the soft tennis ball toward Siddanth.
It was a terrible, incredibly slow full-toss.
Siddanth didn't even move his feet. He just gently tapped the ball with the plastic bat. But because of his inherent, massive wrist strength, even a gentle tap sent the tennis ball flying across the set. It bounced off Kapil's coffee table, knocked over an empty vase, and hit Raju directly in the chest.
"Aah! Mar gaya!" (Aah! I am dead!) Raju screamed theatrically, collapsing onto the floor and clutching his chest as if he had been shot by a sniper.
The studio audience shrieked with laughter.
"OUT! OUT!" Kapil's father-in-law suddenly yelled, raising his finger aggressively.
"Arre Sasur ji, out kaise?!" (Hey father-in-law, how is that out?!) Kapil demanded, throwing his hands in the air. "Usne toh boundary maari hai!" (He literally hit a boundary!)
"Boundary nahi maari! Usne mere naye phool-daan (vase) ko toda hai! Hit-wicket out!" (He didn't hit a boundary! He broke my new flower vase! Hit-wicket out!) the father-in-law argued flawlessly, completely rewriting the rules of cricket on the spot.
"Sasur ji, hit-wicket ka matlab stumps pe bat lagna hota hai, vase tootna nahi!" (Father-in-law, hit-wicket means the bat hitting the stumps, not breaking a vase!) Kapil groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"Tumhare show pe mere hi rules chalenge!" (On your show, only my rules will apply!) the father-in-law declared proudly. He turned to Siddanth and patted his shoulder. "Koi baat nahi beta. Ek din tum bhi seekh jaoge. Ab jao pavilion." (No worries, son. One day you will also learn. Now go back to the pavilion.)
Siddanth dropped the plastic bat, laughing uncontrollably as he fell back onto the couch.
Kapil shook his head stepping forward to wrap up the chaotic segment.
"Deviyon aur sajjano," (Ladies and gentlemen,) Kapil announced, his voice carrying the warm, professional tone of a seasoned host, "In paagalon ko main sambhal loonga. Lekin aaj ka show sach mein bohot special tha. Humare desh ka pride, humari team ki jaan, aaj humare beech aakar inhone hum sabka din bana diya." (I will handle these crazy people. But today's show was truly very special. The pride of our country, the life of our team, came amongst us today and absolutely made our day.)
Kapil turned to Siddanth, pressing his palms together in a genuine gesture of respect.
"Siddanth, aapne apne busy schedule se waqt nikala, apne fans ke sawaalon ka jawaab diya, aur humare in paagalon ke saath khela... iske liye bohot bohot shukriya. We love you, and the whole country loves you." (Siddanth, you took time out of your busy schedule, answered the questions of your fans, and played along with our crazy cast... thank you very, very much for that. We love you, and the whole country loves you.)
Siddanth stood up, offering a warm, humble smile. "Thank you, Kapil. Yeh show waqai mein ek stress-buster hai. Mujhe yahan aakar bohot mazaa aaya." (Thank you, Kapil. This show is genuinely a stress-buster. I had a lot of fun coming here.)
"Deviyon aur sajjano! Ek baar zor daar taaliyan ho jaye... The Devil of Cricket, Siddanth Deva ke liye!" (Ladies and gentlemen! A massive round of applause... for the Devil of Cricket, Siddanth Deva!) Kapil roared into the microphone.
The studio audience leapt to their feet instantly, delivering a deafening, continuous standing ovation.
"Goodnight! Shabba khair! Keep laughing!" Kapil yelled toward the main broadcast camera, waving his hand, signaling the official end of the episode.
The director yelled, "Cut!"
The bright stage lights dimmed slightly, but the energy in the room remained absolutely electric. The formal shooting had concluded, but the interaction was far from over.
Navjot Singh Sidhu walked down from his high chair, wrapping Siddanth in a massive, affectionate bear hug. "Kamaal kar diya, mere yaar. Aise hi haste rehna aur desh ka naam roshan karte rehna." (You did an amazing job, my friend. Keep smiling like this and keep elevating the name of the country.)
"Zaroor, paaji," (Absolutely, brother,) Siddanth smiled.
As the crew began to break down the set, a slow, hesitant trickle of audience members began to gather near the front edge of the stage. They were holding up notebooks, mobile phones, and a few miniature cricket bats.
The production security immediately moved forward to form a protective barrier, gesturing for the audience to clear the floor.
"It's fine," Siddanth told the security chief, gently placing a hand on the man's arm to stop him. "Let them come."
Siddanth didn't retreat to the safety of his green room. He walked over to the edge of the stage, sat down comfortably with his legs dangling over the side, and grabbed a black marker from a fan.
It was an unscripted moment. The Vice-Captain of the Indian cricket team, a billionaire tech founder, sitting on the edge of a wooden stage floor, laughing and chatting with the people who paid to watch him.
He signed notebooks for young students, took selfies with nervous teenagers, and politely accepted the blessings of older couples who had stayed back. Even the production boys—the light riggers, the sound technicians, and the makeup artists—lined up nervously for a picture, which Siddanth happily obliged.
Sunil Grover, Kiku Sharda, and Ali Asgar—all out of character now—came out to the edge of the stage, taking their own selfies with him and thanking him for being such a brilliant sport during their chaotic skits.
It took nearly thirty-five uninterrupted minutes to ensure that every single fan who had waited near the stage received an autograph or a photo. Siddanth didn't rush a single interaction.
Finally, as the studio floor cleared, Kapil Sharma walked over, handing Siddanth a bottle of water.
"Bhai, aap sach mein bohot alag ho," (Brother, you are genuinely very different,) Kapil said quietly, genuine admiration in his voice. "Maine yahan bohot bade stars dekhe hain. Par pack-up ke baad stage par aadh ghanta baith kar har ek fan se milna... yeh sirf woh insaan kar sakta hai jo zameen se juda ho." (I have seen very big stars here. But sitting on the stage for half an hour after pack-up and meeting every single fan... only a person who is truly connected to the ground can do that.)
Siddanth took a sip of water, offering a tired but contented smile. "Agar yeh log apna Sunday nikal kar mujhe dekhne aa sakte hain, Kapil paaji, toh main apne schedule se aadh ghanta zaroor nikal sakta hoon." (If these people can take time out of their Sunday to come watch me, Kapil paaji, then I can definitely take half an hour out of my schedule.)
"Salute hai aapko," (Salute to you,) Kapil smiled, offering a final handshake. "Jaldi wapas aaiyega show pe." (Please come back to the show soon.)
"Zaroor," (Absolutely,) Siddanth promised.
He picked up his jacket, offered a final wave to the remaining crew members, and walked out through the heavy wooden doors. The chaotic, brilliant world of Indian television was behind him. The rigorous, demanding reality of international cricket awaited.
But as he slid into the back of his waiting car, driving through the bustling night streets of Mumbai, Siddanth felt incredibly light. The laughter, the banter, and the sheer, unadulterated love of the fans had been exactly the therapy he needed.
The Devil of Cricket was fully recharged, entirely ready for the next battle.