Ayush Mhatre was at an Under-19 camp in Vadodara in April when his phone buzzed. CSK, who had lost Ruturaj Gaikwad to a hand fracture, were on the line, asking Ayush to come and trial. After a quick coordination with the BCCI, the 17-year-old flew down to Chennai, more in hope than expectation.

Ayush had already trialed with Mumbai Indians before the mega-auction, but didn't earn a bid. This wasn't unexpected, given that he was yet to play any T20 cricket. So he did what CSK asked of him in Chennai and flew back to Vadodara without an immediate belief that he was about to earn an early ticket to the biggest league. But just days later, his phone buzzed again. CSK officially roped him in.

A week into his time as an IPL player, he was back in Mumbai. On the eve of the MI clash, Stephen Fleming delivered the news he'd been silently waiting for. He was going to debut. Sachin Koli, Ayush's coach from his senior school (IES VN Sule) and (Podar) college, was with him in the team hotel and reckoned it was time for some planning before the big day. "I asked him, 'So what do you want to do now, shall we discuss about tomorrow?' And he went: 'No sir, don't worry about it, let's go get something to eat," Koli tells Cricbuzz.

Ayush often wore confidence like a second skin. Next evening, the Wankhede stadium was buzzing in his ears, along with the advice of his coaches to see out the first 5-10 minutes and settle the nerves. But after the first ball, he went 4, 4, 6 and ended with a 15-ball 32. Three games later, he opened the batting and showed the full array of his capabilities in Bengaluru. His 48-ball 94 came in a loss, but Fleming was chuffed at what his team had stumbled upon.

"He's got talent. He's got hand-eye coordination. He's got a beautiful, silky swing. He's aggressive. Everything that we like about a modern-day T20 player. But, to me, it's the temperament and being able to execute in a trial and then on the big stage. That's what I'm most impressed with," Fleming had said.

The T-word has been attached to Ayush's persona at every stage of his progress. At a private U14 tournament in Pune, his father Yogesh saw how deep it ran. Ayush was already a Mumbai U14 player by then, and wore his official MCA trousers for the game. As he took guard and faced a delivery on a matting wicket, the type he'd never played on before, his foot slipped. The cover fielder took it as an opportunity to sledge Ayush. 'He's a Mumbai player, but he's not even able to stand,' came the chirp. Ayush let the comment slide, but launched successive sixes when that fielder came on to bowl. He ended up smashing a double-hundred in that game, and followed it with a couple more centuries in a row.

The Mhatre household has been very big on mahaul(vibe) and passion. Yogesh had a simple plan - let Ayush chase his early obsession, move heaven and earth to keep that spark alive, and then reassess around the time he got to sixth class in school. If the fire dims, focus could shift toward the safer, steadier path of academics. But before he steered Ayush towards life's more mundane churns, he wanted to give his son a proper shot at carving out his own niche.

"We have a regular routine in life - study well, get a job, find ways to feed ourselves. That was always our first option," Yogesh says. "We spent our lifetime with the intention of filling our stomachs, and there was no real chance of focusing on passion. But from the beginning, when he was born, I wanted to give him some passion. Whether that's sports or music. It could be anything. I wanted to give him a choice. And whatever he chooses I will follow."

Just after his fifth birthday, Ayush was already at a local club, learning the sport formally. A year later, even bigger avenues were sought - the famous Oval maidan in Churchgate. Every morning, Ayush and his father, Yogesh, left home at 5 o'clock. They took the crowded local train from Virar to Matunga, a 70-kilometre haul, so Ayush could train at Don Bosco school from 7 to 8:30 before classes began at 8:45.

Yogesh would then retrace the entire journey and head to his job at a co-operative bank in Vasai, which was closer to home. During his lunch break, he'd rush home, eat, and take Ayush's maternal grandfather, Laxmikant Naik, to the railway station. Naik would then carry food to school, wait for classes to finish at 3pm, and then escort Ayush to the Vengsarkar Academy at the maidan. Ayush would train there from 4 to 6pm and then take the long route back home in a 6:30pm train.

It was an elaborate routine to follow, and barely seemed sustainable. But even in his formative years, Ayush seemed to be built different.

"His motivation came from the kind of interest he had in the sport," Yogesh says. "He would leave home at 5am, come back at 8.30pm. Once I brought him back, I would freshen up, and eat... but Ayush would still not come inside.