Rejection from Father

The Offer and the Decision

The night air was still thick with the excitement of victory as Sukhman stared at the Vaayu GP logo on Nandini Thakre's business card. The card felt heavier than it should—as if it carried the weight of his entire future.

Still trying to process what just happened, he looked up at Nandini. "So, how do I even become a part of this?"

Nandini leaned against her car and folded her arms. "There's a procedure, of course. First, we'll evaluate your driving skills under professional conditions. If you pass, you'll be signed as a reserve driver. From there, you'll train, improve, and get a shot at real races."

Harinder nudged Sukhman, whispering, "Oye Paaji, she's offering you a golden ticket, just say yes and jump in!"

Nandini chuckled. "If you want, we can go to your house right now and discuss everything with your family."

Sukhman hesitated. He could already hear his father's voice in his head—a storm waiting to be unleashed.

"I… I need time," he admitted. "My father, he's not against racing, but he's… complicated. I need to talk to him first."

Nandini nodded. "That's fair. You have two days. If you decide to accept, call me." She handed him the card. "Just don't take too long. Opportunities don't wait forever."

Sukhman stared at the glossy white card, the bold letters spelling out Vaayu GP - India's Premier Racing Team.

This was real.

This was his chance.

And he wasn't sure if he'd be allowed to take it.

---

A Long Night and a Broken Car

4:00 AM.

The streets were empty as Sukhman and Harinder pushed the damaged Maruti 800 toward home.

Harinder wiped sweat from his forehead. "Oye Paaji, tere jeetne se zyada mehsoos ho raha hai ke hum punishment kha rahe hain." (Oye bro, instead of celebrating your win, it feels like we're being punished.)

Sukhman sighed, pushing harder. "Bas chup kar, aur madad kar meri." (Just shut up and help.)

Harinder kicked the car's bent bumper. "Paaji, kya kaar diya tune iss gaadi ka? Yeh car nahi, tohfe mein mila hua dukh hai!" (Bro, what have you done to this car? It's not a car anymore, it's a gifted disaster!)

Sukhman laughed despite the exhaustion. "Sahi keh raha hai, par abhi priority hai isko ghar tak le jaana bina Papaji ko jagaye." (You're right, but priority is getting it home without waking up my dad.)

Harinder smirked. "Oye, agar tere Papaji ne dekha na, toh sirf car nahi, hum dono bhi 'bina engine ke' bhag rahe honge." (If your dad sees this, not just the car, we both will be running without an engine.)

Sukhman shook his head. "Tu baatein kam kar, dhakka maar zyada." (Talk less, push more.)

They finally reached the house.

---

The Storm at Home

As they pushed the half-dead Maruti 800 into the driveway, a sharp voice cut through the early morning silence.

"Sukhman!"

Harjeet Singh stood at the door, arms crossed, eyes filled with anger. His gaze immediately fell on the ruined car.

"YEH KYA KIYA TUNE?!" (WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!)

Sukhman flinched. No escape now.

"Papaji, woh…"

Harjeet stepped forward, his voice booming. "Tujhe samajh nahi aata? Maine tujhe pehle hi bola tha, yeh bekaar ki racing chor de!" (Don't you understand? I've told you before, leave this useless racing!)

Harinder, sensing danger, tried to sneak away.

"TU RUK!" Harjeet snapped at him. "Tere dosto ne hi isko bigada hai!" (Your friends must have spoiled him!)

Harinder raised his hands. "Paaji, main toh bas…"

Harjeet shot him a glare. "Ja ghar ja. Aur dobara mat dikhna!" (Go home. And don't come back again!)

Harinder fled like a scared cat.

Harjeet turned back to Sukhman. "Maine kaha tha na? Yeh sab sirf nuksaan laata hai! Kya mila tujhe?" (Didn't I tell you? This only brings trouble! What did you get out of this?)

Sukhman took a deep breath. "Papaji, mujhe Vaayu GP se offer aayi hai." (Dad, I got an offer from Vaayu GP.)

For the first time, Harjeet paused.

His eyes widened. "Kya?" (What?)

"Vaayu GP," Sukhman repeated. "India ki sabse badi racing team. Woh mujhe backup driver banaana chahte hain." (India's biggest racing team. They want me as a backup driver.)

Silence.

Then—Harjeet laughed bitterly.

"Yeh sab bade logon ki baatein hain," he scoffed. "Yeh sirf sapne bechne aate hain, beta. Tujhe istemaal karenge, phir jab tu kisi kaam ka nahi rahega, chhod denge." (These big people, they just sell dreams. They'll use you, and when you're no longer useful, they'll drop you.)

Sukhman gritted his teeth. "Aap bina soche hi mana kyun kar rahe ho?" (Why are you rejecting this without even thinking?)

Harjeet's expression hardened. "Kyunki mujhe sach pata hai. Zindagi fantasy nahi hoti, beta. Rozgaar chahiye, jo ghar chala sake. Yeh sab sirf waqt barbaad karne wale sapne hain." (Because I know the truth. Life isn't a fantasy, son. You need a job that runs a house. These are just dreams that waste time.)

Sukhman clenched his fists. "Lekin main yeh banna chahta hoon, Papaji." (But I want to be this, Dad.)

Harjeet took a deep breath and turned away. "Koi baat nahi ho rahi is par. Subah ho gayi hai. Kaam pe ja, aur family ke izzat wala beta ban." (No more discussion. Morning is here. Go to work, and be the respectable son of this family.)

---

Sukhman entered the house, frustration boiling inside him.

His mother, watched him silently as he got ready for work. She could tell something was wrong but didn't ask.

His younger sister, Manpreet, sat at the breakfast table, eyes flicking between him and their father. She sensed the tension but remained quiet.

Sukhman finished his tea quickly and left for work.

---

A Talk with the Garage Owner

The garage was busy as usual—cars lined up, engines open, tools scattered everywhere. But Sukhman couldn't focus.

For the first time, he messed up a repair.

His boss, Gurpreet Paji, noticed.

"Ki hoya, Sukhman?" (What happened, Sukhman?)

Sukhman sighed. "Paaji, ek moka mila hai mujhe… agar isse sahi se use karun, toh shayad jo banna chahta hoon, ban sakun." (Bro, I got a chance… if I utilize it properly, maybe I can become what I want to be.)

Gurpreet nodded slowly. "Main is racing ka zyada nahi jaanta… par ek baat keh sakta hoon—agar baap nahi sun raha, toh sapne ke liye jo zaroori ho, woh kar." (I don't know much about this racing… but I can say one thing—if your father won't listen, then do whatever is required for your dream.)

Sukhman stared at him.

The words hit hard.

His father had refused to see his dream.

But maybe…

Maybe it was time he took matters into his own hands.