A Dream We Shared

"There’s nothing that can stop you. One day, you'll become a renowned figure, and I'll watch you standing in the crowd, cheering until my lungs collapse." Those were the last words that my father said to me.

An accident. That was all it took to shatter my perfect world completely. 

One moment, Dad and I were chatting idly in the car, discussing our plans regarding the new business that we wanted to set up. The next moment, the car overturned, and my head smashed against the car window. A sharp pain shot up my head; darkness clouded my vision, and I lost consciousness.

When I woke up, all I could see were countless tubes attached to my body and the face of an elderly nurse. 

A doctor came by to check my condition, and I felt numb due to the painkillers they had fed me. My aunt and uncle entered the room to visit me. 

"Where's dad? Is his injury serious?" I asked.

Nobody answered. Dead silence filled the air, and it was almost deafening.

My heartbeat accelerated. Its thumping was so loud that I felt it would tear my chest and pounce out. I could sense that they had some bad news.

Was he critically injured? Did he sustain a permanent injury? Several negative thoughts formed a loop in my head. That's not possible, I told myself. He's alright. Probably resting in the next room, just like me.

"I'm sorry," My aunt said, walking toward me as he held my hand tightly.

Her eyes were red—as if she had cried for a long time. She looked disheveled, and her face was ashen. My uncle stood behind her, looking exactly the same.

Tears welled from my eyes and fell down my cheeks. "What do you mean?" 

"Your father died in the car crash." She engulfed me in her arms and patted my head gently as more tears gushed from my eyes.

"You're lying," I screamed in a hoarse voice, choking on tears.

"He received a critical blow to the head. The doctors did their best, but they barely managed to save you. Your father passed away in the ambulance."

Those words broke and tore me apart completely.

***

It's been five years since dad passed away. But there wasn't a single day when I didn't remember him. His memories and teachings surfaced in my mind every so often, making me smile on the gloomiest days of my life.

Our dream was to open an authentic coffee shop in every state of India. We wanted to create a brand that would stand against big names and give them equal competition.

But he couldn't stand by my side and watch it come to life. 

Thus, I took our dream and nurtured it. Stepping into his shoes, I entered the world of business and swore to turn it into reality. 

I packed my bags, left my hometown behind, shifted to Delhi, and never looked back. Putting all my savings together, I started from scratch and opened Brew Hub. Late-night shifts, saving every single penny, working till I collapse, I worked day and night, and soon Brew Hub became a well-known name throughout Delhi.

A tiny shop in a small corner of Delhi turned into a cafe. Slowly and steadily, the idea that seemed surreal took shape. Like a sculptor, I moulded it with my own hands, brought it into existence, and let it out. And then, what followed was success. From a single cafe to five branches to slowly spreading wings in Mumbai and Chandigarh. I didn’t stop and pushed myself to the edge, using my father's last words as motivation.

"Ma'am, we've reached the studio for the interview," my driver said.

His voice brought me out of my thoughts, which were like a labyrinth of silk webs.

"Thank you for driving me here. You can leave now." I got out of the car and walked into the news agency.

"Inaya, you're finally here," shouted Mithali, my assistant. "Stop giving me chills." She heaved a sigh of relief as gradually stopped pacing.

"Calm down. I got up way too early to come here, but I got stuck in traffic." I adjusted a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear. 

"You could've texted me. The interviewer asked me about your whereabouts a thousand times." 

"The battery's dead."

I took out my phone from my handbag and showed it to her, pointing to the power bank attached to it.

"Let's go. You're already late."

Within minutes, we had turned through countless corridors and finally arrived at the interview location. 

I was getting a feature in Woman's Weekly as one of the most successful women entrepreneurs in India. 

Strangely, I felt very excited and calm instead of nervous and anxious.

The door opened, and a slim woman wearing round harry-potter style glasses entered inside. She held a thin piece of paper and smiled as soon as she saw me.

"Hello, Ms Inaya Malhotra. It's a pleasure that I get to meet you," she greeted me.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, too." I shook hands with her.

Then the camera rolled, and she bombarded me with various questions. How do you feel about the success of Brew Hub? What are your plans for the future? Do you plan to open more branches this year?

I answered all her questions smoothly and honestly. She had turned into a different person when she started the interview. It was as if a shot of confidence was injected into her body.

"Now it's time to wrap up the interview with the last question." She adjusted her glasses.

"I can't believe that the interview is about to end. Honestly speaking, with that energy of yours, I can answer questions all day."

"You're flattering me," she said. "What was the inspiration behind Brew Hub?" 

That question touched my heart and reminded me of dad. 

"Brew Hub is a dream that I shared with my dad. It was something that we wanted to do together," I told her. "After I graduated and got my master's degree in business, we had planned and discussed everything about it. It was an idea that didn't let us sleep. But then, we met with an accident, and he passed away." I could feel tears in the corners of my eyes. "Since that day, I decided to chase this one dream. It was the only thing that kept me sane and saved me from breaking apart.  

He used to say that there was nothing that could stop me, and he was right. I'll keep pushing myself harder and make sure that Brew Hub leaves a mark in history."

With that, the interview ended, and I felt as if I heard my father’s voice. "I'm hella proud of you," he said.

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