New Delhi

There is a famous song from the 1960 Hindi film Waqt that might not find a place on Ishan Kishan’s playlist, yet its philosophy mirrors his journey perfectly: live in the moment, without being burdened by the past or anxious about the future.

At 27, the left-handed wicketkeeper-batter from Patna has scripted a comeback that few saw coming—especially at a time when Indian cricket seemed ready to move on. With Rishabh Pant back in the mix, and the likes of Dhruv Jurel, Sanju Samson, and Jitesh Sharma offering different skill sets, Kishan had slipped dangerously low in the pecking order.

The flamboyant stroke-maker struggled with the uncertainty of life on the road—living out of a suitcase without knowing when the next opportunity would come. In an era where mental health conversations are finally gaining acceptance, Kishan chose to step back, admitting he was emotionally exhausted and needed time to reset.

What followed, however, was a harsh backlash. His central contract was terminated, and he was labelled as someone not serious about domestic cricket. Assumptions replaced empathy.

“He never reacted,” recalls Anshumat Srivastava, Kishan’s closest friend and confidant. “People wrote all kinds of things, but he just smiled and kept working. Living in the present is difficult, but that’s exactly what he did. The process became sacred for him.”

Srivastava, who co-founded the Ishan Kishan Cricket Academy in Patna with the India batter, has witnessed the transformation up close. “What you saw against Pakistan was the result of a process he started two years ago. Runs are only a by-product,” he says.

Around Kishan, a protective cocoon slowly formed—his father Pranav Pandey, elder brother Raj Kishan, a doctor who once played junior cricket, and a few trusted friends. Together, they ensured he had the emotional security needed for a comeback.

His lifestyle underwent a complete overhaul. Meditation became part of his daily routine to sharpen concentration. On his father’s insistence, he began reading the Bhagavad Gita. Training sessions at his academy became more structured—often twice a day. Nutrition was tightly monitored with a personal chef, hotel food was avoided, and sleep and recovery were treated as non-negotiables.

“He was tired and needed that break,” Srivastava explains. “His commitment to Indian cricket was questioned, and that hurt. But he dealt with it quietly. He never chased numbers—neither in Ranji Trophy, SMAT, Vijay Hazare nor in international cricket. Ironically, his averages during this period have been outstanding.”

Despite the pressure, Kishan remained the same fun-loving, people-oriented individual. Srivastava travelled to Colombo not just to watch his match against Pakistan, but to be there for his “brother”.

“There’s a perception that light-hearted people aren’t serious. That’s just perception,” he says. “After scoring runs in draining conditions, the first thing he did back at the hotel was recovery. There was another match coming up.”

A key figure in Kishan’s technical clarity has been his elder brother Raj. “No one understands Ishan’s game like Raj,” Srivastava notes. “Hours of simulation training on the centre wicket at the academy have given him clarity—whether it’s how many runs to target in the Powerplay or pacing an innings.”

That clarity was evident in his recent performances, marked by assured shot selection and calm decision-making under pressure.

As Kishan’s comeback gathers momentum, Srivastava offers a telling insight into his mental space today: “He has stopped attaching hopes to his hard work. When he captained Jharkhand, never once did he think, ‘If I play this way, I’ll make a comeback.’ To return to India colours, he had to be selfless.”

READ MORE: Neerja Mattoo for popularising Kashmiri mystic poets

In learning to live fully in the present, Ishan Kishan may just have found the most enduring path back to the top.