Bonus Winner | Season 4
'Hopes & Dreams'
In the bustling metropolis of Delhi, a young lad named Ankur found himself
ensconced within the confines of a corporate labyrinth. Diligently he toiled, his
days interwoven with the ceaseless ebb and flow of mundane tasks. Yet, buried
beneath the veneer of professional success, Ankur’s heart yearned for a different
path—a path where words cascaded like poetry, where stories painted vibrant
tapestries upon the canvas of his imagination.
Ankur’s soul, kindled by the flame of literary ardor, craved release from the
shackles of corporate conformity. He longed to wield the quill with the grace of a
maestro, to pen tales that would ignite minds and stir souls. The world of
business, with its relentless pursuit of profit margins, failed to nourish his artistic
spirit. Each day, he felt his creative essence wither like a fragile bloom denied the
nurturing touch of sunlight.
Yet, formidable opposition stood in his path—the indomitable figure of his father,
Mr. Gupta. A stoic man of practicality and pragmatism, Mr. Gupta harbored
steadfast beliefs in the pursuit of financial stability. In his eyes, the world of
literature was a whimsical realm fraught with uncertainty, a perilous chasm where
dreams were dashed against the rocks of harsh reality. To him, Ankur’s longing for
a writer’s life appeared nothing but a frivolous indulgence.
Torn between filial duty and the unyielding call of his passion, Ankur battled with a
tempestuous maelstrom of emotions. Late into the night, he would pen sonnets
and prose, allowing his dreams to dance upon the page. In the twilight hours, he
sought solace within the verses of great poets and the narratives of legendary
novelists. But each dawn would bring a renewed clash, as the weight of societal
expectations threatened to suffocate his aspirations.
One fateful evening, as the setting sun cast its golden glow upon the city, Ankur
summoned the courage to confront his father. In the somber embrace of their
ancestral home, he broached the subject that had lingered, unspoken, between
them for far too long. With measured words and impassioned conviction, Ankur
laid bare the very core of his being, expressing his fervent desire to embark upon
the path of literary creation.
Mr. Gupta, his face a tapestry of emotions, listened intently. He recognized the
fire in his son’s eyes, the unwavering determination etched upon his countenance.
Though the struggle within his heart was palpable, he understood that denying
Ankur’s dreams would be akin to extinguishing a brilliant star before it had a
chance to illuminate the heavens.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Ankur, now unburdened by the
constraints of corporate life, breathed in the intoxicating air of artistic freedom.
He ventured into the heart of Delhi, seeking inspiration in its ancient alleyways and
vibrant bazaars. With every step, he discovered a tapestry of tales, waiting to be
woven into the fabric of his words.
As the seasons waxed and waned, Ankur’s journey as a writer took flight. His
stories, born from the depths of his soul, resonated with readers from all walks of
life. The fragrance of his literary prowess wafted through the air, drawing admirers
and accolades alike. And within the luminous realm of his creations, Ankur found
fulfillment and purpose.
Meanwhile, his father, once staunch in his apprehensions, gradually softened.
With every word Ankur penned, Mr. Gupta witnessed the transformative power of
his son’s artistry. He realized that the pursuit of one’s dreams, even if it defied
conventional wisdom, could lead to a life infused with genuine joy and
Father and son, though their paths diverged, found solace in the unbreakable bond
of love. Mr. Gupta, though he could not fully fathom the artistic world that
enraptured his son, respected Ankur’s resilience and the steadfastness of his
conviction. And Ankur, forever grateful for his father’s unwavering support,
understood that their relationship had evolved, transcending the boundaries of
In the end, Ankur’s story became an ode to the indomitable spirit of pursuing one’s
true calling, even in the face of formidable opposition. It was a testament to the
power of courage, and to the irrevocable connection between a father and his son,
forged through the crucible of dreams. And as the sun set upon the horizon, Delhi
whispered its secrets to a writer who had found his voice, while a father watched
with pride, his heart brimming with love for the boy who had dared to chase his