It started off wild. The kind of wild where even auto drivers were honking in tune. RCB won. And Bengaluru? It exploded. In a good way.

I was there. MG Road. 10:30 PM. It felt like everyone forgot the week, the heat, everything. We were just... celebrating. Loudly. Madly.

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Then, a buzz on my phone. “Accident reported.” Didn’t register. I was still in that RCB bubble. But the second notification hit harder. 

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A boy had died. Somewhere nearby. Bike skidded, too fast, too crowded. Another was hurt — firecracker burst too close. Just like that.

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I paused. Music still playing in the background. But I couldn’t hear it the same way. You know that feeling? When your mood shifts... suddenly? 

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One minute you’re dancing. Next, you’re staring at someone’s photo. His smile frozen. He’ll never cheer for RCB again. That hit different.

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The cops tried. But when a crowd moves like that — you can't stop it. I get it. But still... maybe we could’ve done something.

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RCB’s page was silent. Maybe they're waiting. Maybe they didn’t know. But I hope they say something. Just so those families feel seen.

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I love cricket. But not enough to lose lives over it. Helmet, distance, crowd control — these aren’t boring rules. They save people.

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I still love that night. I really do. But now... it's mixed with something heavier. A joy that turned bittersweet. A celebration I won't forget.

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