It had been a week since the grand victory at the Gurukul Winter Tournant, and Aarav was savoring the rare monts of leisure with his parents. After a long practice session at the field, they sat together in the cozy living room, the aroma of freshly brewed tea filling the air. Aarav's mother, always the picture of warmth and strength, sat beside him, while his father, ever so focused and determined, lounged on the armchair, flipping through so papers.
Aarav watched his father's expression shift as he put down the papers and looked at him with a mix of curiosity and concern. Taking a deep breath, Aarav spoke, his voice serious yet resolute.
"Father, I looked at the accounts book you left on the table. I know it's not sothing you'd want to discuss, but I saw the numbers weren't good. This year, we're expecting a profit of 53 lakhs, but that's down from last year's 93 lakhs, which, I know, was already less than the 1.34 crores the year before."
A flicker of frustration crossed his father's face, his brows knitting together. "Aarav, you shouldn't have gone through that," he said, his tone sharp, almost defensive. Before the tension could deepen, Aarav quickly spoke again, his voice sincere and hopeful.
"Dad, please listen to . I have a plan to turn things around. I'm serious about this, and I need you to hear out."
Aarav's mother, sensing the rising tension, placed a reassuring hand on her husband's arm. "Let him speak, dear," she said softly, her eyes eting his with gentle encouragent. His father sighed and leaned back, still wary but curious enough to let Aarav continue.
Aarav turned to his father, eyes glistening with determination. "Dad, we have 11 big shops in Mumbai, 4 in Pune, 8 in Delhi, 18 in Bangalore, and 4 in Lucknow, not to ntion the 2 in Amritsar. We're doing well, but we're primarily selling vegetables and ration items. This is fine for now, but with increasing competition, we need to think ahead."
His father raised an eyebrow, the question hanging in the air. Aarav took a deep breath, sensing the critical mont. "Dad, I want us to open a new kind of business. It's a different approach, and I know it sounds risky, but hear out. I propose we invest 15-20 lakhs to create a new venture—a café. Not a full-scale restaurant but sothing like McDonald's in the USA or Starbucks. We can start with just a few dishes—burgers, pizza, sandwiches, French fries, coffee, tea. The focus should be on the ambience and the service. We can make it a place where people co not just for food but for the experience, for good service, and the atmosphere."
His father looked puzzled, a hint of doubt in his eyes. His mother, too, furrowed her brows, her lips pressing into a thin line as she tried to grasp the idea. Aarav continued, his voice steady. "It's simple, Dad. We can start small, like near Pune. We create a café with great ambience, friendly staff, and good food. I can help advertise it. I have 14,000 followers on social dia, mostly from Pune and Mumbai. We could run ads there, and Mom, you could help with them too. Your creative ideas are unmatched."
His mother's expression softened as she pondered. Aarav pulled out her phone and opened YouTube, showing her a few popular vloggers in the USA who docunted their restaurant openings and daily work. "Mom, you can do the sa. Film vlogs of our café journey—the renovations, the first custors, recipes, even little behind-the-scenes monts. It's simple. We just need a cara and can hire a freelance editor for about 2,000 rupees a month for 15-20 videos."
His father rubbed his temples, still torn. Aarav leaned forward, his eyes bright with excitent. "One more thing, Dad. Let's add Wi-Fi to the café. Unlimited internet is still a luxury for many, and custors would appreciate the option to stay connected while they relax."
There was a pause as Aarav's father took in his words, the gears turning in his mind. Finally, he nodded slowly. "It's a bold move, Aarav. But maybe it's ti to think outside the box. I'll give it a try, but let's start small, as you suggested."
Aarav's face broke into a grin, and before he could say more, his father's fingers found their way to his ribs, tickling him playfully. Aarav burst out laughing, his mother joining in with a chuckle. It was a mont of lightness, a reprieve from the weight of decisions and responsibility.
As the laughter died down, his father spoke again, this ti with a softer tone. "I've already submitted your form for the trials at Shivaji Park. You need to take a break from school and focus on your goals. The business can wait for a bit."
Aarav's eyes widened, and his heart leaped. "Thank you, Dad!" He hugged his parents tightly, gratitude radiating through him. With a renewed sense of purpose, he set off to practice, the echoes of laughter and new plans buzzing in his ears.
User Comments
0 comments from readers