Some of us are book lovers. We live in a world of stories, extraordinary, and for lack of a more appropriate word-fairytale-ish. Then, some of us love movies, or web series. They live in a world of stories, too, extraordinary and fairytale-ish.

Stories are what make life bearable. Because stories, whether they end happily or not, have something about them that appeals to every human nature. Stories are a reflection of imagination and dreams, and are so far removed from real life.

Today, however-19th January 2021-the world witnessed a story for the ages. And strangely enough, it's real story, not an hypothetical one. A story that can scarcely be improved on imagination. How often in life do we encounter a story that cannot be improved upon imagination?

But today India did.

It's the story of a stand-in captain put in to lead a team reeling from its most humiliating defeat in history who somehow found a way to shut his team's ears to the negativity and scored a beautiful century to record a resounding win in the match directly afterward.

It's the story of a mad Rajput warrior who, after fracturing his thumb, was padded up to bat if his team and his country needed him.

It's the story of a sharp and intelligent senior bowler who forced the opposition's, and maybe the world's most dangerous Test batsman to dance to his terms.

It's the story of a human wall who stood tall for five hours, absorbing every blow thrown at him, bit by bit, with no external indication about the same except a single wince.

It's the story of a pacer who had to leave the series midway through an innings but not before he had made his mark in the half match he played, a match which his team would go on to win in his absence.

It's the story of a young 26-year-old protected prodigy, who grew up in the span of half a month to mentor the other, sometimes older, bowlers debuting in his team.

It's the story of one of the world's best limited overs openers, opening for the first time in overseas Tests who returned from a recurring injury and forced himself to adjust swiftly and persisted in giving the team a good start every day.

It's the story of an out-of-form player who sustained a Grade 2 hamstring tear and unable to run, hardly able to walk, waited till he saved his team from defeat before giving in to the pain.

It's the story of an adored and prodigious wicket keeper-batsman who shouldered the burden when his team needed and exhibited a display of solidity no one would truly have expected.

Then again, it's the story of a starry eyed kid from Punjab, playing his first proper international series against the world's best bowling attack, who took the opposition by storm and ended as top run scorer for his team.

It's the story of a small town boy who lost his father two weeks before he was to make his Test debut and take his first five-wicket-haul, and dissolved into tears every time he performed, because his dad should have been there to see him.

It's the story of a prodigal off spinning all-rounder, unexpectedly recruited into the squad and the team in a ground that favours wrist spinners, who contributed with bat and ball to an extent that would make most seasoned players proud, and walked off with his head bowed because he had failed to finish off the match.

It's the story of a fast bowler who kicked himself for failing to score 24 off 4 for victory in the third T20 but stepped up with the bat when it mattered most and shared the highest seventh wicket partnership for a team visiting Australia in history.

It's the story of a coolie's son who entered the sport at an age that may seem too mature, but made his debut in all three formats in the span of less than two months, and lay down his own terms.

It's also the story of a former under-19 captain going through a rough patch, and that of an opening batsman who had tweaked his stance to suit the shortest format of the game, and that of a chinaman who did not get to play-the ones who did not contribute in any tangible way and yet ran to throw themselves on their teammates, who claimed the trophy for their own just the same-because that is what a team is.

And lastly, it's the story of the captain of the world's largest cricketing nation, who believed in his team when no one did, who taught them to fight, and to never give up, who was there with them in spirit even if not in person. Because that is what a team is.

It's the story of a team that stormed their fiercest rivals in their own fortress and made the world their own.

It's the story of a team which was bruised and battered but refused to break. A team that cared little every time the odds tilted a trifle more away from them, be it crumbling to their lowest ever innings score in the very first match, be it their best player leaving them reeling in crisis, be it the bio bubble-breach probes, be it the racial abuse from the crowd, be it the hundred and one injuries that continued to plague the team throughout the whole duration of the series.

It's the story of a team that showed the universe what fighters do, that taught the world how to defy all odds, that lit up the country in the darkest hours she has witnessed in half a century and gave us a story to savour for all the ages to come.

And if I may be arrogant enough to put this into words: it was my team I was talking about. My team.