After the heavy conversation with his father, Dilli sat alone in his dimly lit room. The house was quiet, but inside him a storm raged without mercy. His father's words clung to his heart like iron chains:
"I can give you my life, but not our family's reputation."
For years, Dilli had misunderstood that harshness as cruelty. But now—now he had seen it bare, stripped of anger and discipline, revealed as pure love. His father wasn't his jailer. He was his shield. Every scolding, every raised hand, every strict word—all had been born from love too deep to explain.
The realization broke him. He buried his face in his palms, his shoulders trembling. Hot tears streamed down, soaking his fingers. For the first time, he understood what unconditional love really meant.
"He was ready to be hated by me if it meant protecting my future. All this time… I blamed him, but he was carrying me on his shoulders through fire."
The thought crushed his chest and lit it at the same time. He hugged his knees, whispering into the stillness:
"Dad… I don't want your life. I don't want your sacrifices to break you. I just want your support, and I'll take care of the rest. I promise you—I'll make you proud."
The tears wouldn't stop, but behind them a fire rose. A new determination, sharper than anything before. Dilli knew he couldn't sit idle anymore. He couldn't just dream—he had to build. He had to give his father and himself a name that no one could tarnish.
He wiped his face, stood up, and switched on his old computer. The screen flickered to life, humming in the dark. His trembling fingers hovered over the keyboard.
He typed slowly, with reverence, as though naming a newborn:
ITMedic International
The words glowed back at him. Strong. Certain. Alive.
"This will be my gift to you, Dad," he whispered, voice hoarse from crying. "Not just a company. A lifeline. ITMedic will solve the problems that cripple IT companies. It will be the doctor for technology, the healer for every system. And one day, when people across the world speak this name, they'll remember us. They'll remember you."
With new energy, he opened a blank web page template. His fingers moved with urgency, sketching colors, layouts, and structures. It was crude at first, but in Dilli's eyes it was alive. Every button, every line of code, every design choice carried his soul.
The header read: "ITMedic International — Where Technology Finds Its Cure."
He leaned back, staring at the words. His chest ached, his throat burned, but his lips curled into the faintest smile. The turmoil inside him hadn't vanished, but it had transformed. His father's unconditional love was the pain, the wound—and also the medicine.
That night, a boy's tears and a father's love gave birth to a dream.
ITMedic International was not just a company. It was a son's promise, a father's legacy, and a vow written in fire.