Say, my father runs a business, and today my brother is running

Opening Scene – Narrated by Host

The room was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigerator in the corner and the rustle of papers as Jack sifted through some documents. The late afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room. Outside, the city moved at its usual pace, but inside, the stillness hung in the air, as if something unsaid was waiting to be acknowledged.

Jeeny was sitting nearby, casually flipping through a book, though her attention was clearly on him. She could sense the weight on his mind, the thoughts that were swirling just beneath the surface. She knew it was time for the conversation to begin, the right words waiting to break the silence.

Host: The room felt thick with the unspoken, waiting for something to shift.

Jeeny: Her voice was soft but deliberate, cutting through the quiet. “Jack, I came across a quote today that made me think of you. It’s from Sargun Mehta. She said, ‘Say, my father runs a business, and today my brother is running it for him. There are people who have worked with him for 30 years, but today, my brother is the boss. That’s not fair, but that’s what parents do, and that’s what a legacy is supposed to be.’ What do you think about that?”

Jack: His eyes shifted up from the papers in front of him, the weight of the words sinking in. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers stilling on the desk. “It’s interesting, isn’t it? That idea of legacy, of something being passed down, even when it doesn’t feel fair. It’s true — sometimes, the next generation gets the role just because they’re next in line, regardless of the years of hard work others have put in. And it’s not always easy to accept, especially if you’ve been loyal to the business or to the person for so long.”

He exhaled slowly, his voice growing more reflective. “I guess that’s what legacy is, though. It’s not about fairness. It’s about the family, the bloodline, carrying on the work, the responsibility. And even if it doesn’t feel right, there’s something undeniable about that inheritance, that passing of the baton.”

Jeeny: She nodded, her eyes steady with understanding. “Exactly. There’s a certain duty in it, isn’t there? A sense of ownership, but not just in the material sense — it’s about carrying on the values, the vision, even if the path doesn’t always seem fair. A legacy isn’t always about who deserves it, but who is willing to continue it. It’s about what’s passed down through generations, sometimes without question.”

Her voice softened, almost sympathetic. “But I also think it’s important to recognize how difficult that can be. To feel like you’ve worked for something, and then see someone else step in because of their birthright. It’s not easy. But maybe it’s not about fairness in the conventional sense. It’s about continuity — about the family, the business, or the work being passed on, no matter what.”

Jack: He let out a slow breath, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk as he thought. “I guess what I’m struggling with is the idea of earning something. When you’ve worked hard for something, you want to feel like you’ve earned your place. But legacy doesn’t always work that way. It’s not always about earning it. Sometimes, it’s about what you’re given. That’s a hard pill to swallow, especially when you’re the one who’s been working tirelessly behind the scenes.”

He paused, his voice quieter now, almost reflective. “I think I’ve been looking at legacy the wrong way. Maybe it’s not about earning something, but about continuing something — even if it doesn’t feel earned.”

Jeeny: She smiled softly, her expression warm with quiet understanding. “Exactly. Legacy isn’t always about fairness or earning it. It’s about what you choose to carry forward, what you choose to preserve. It’s about the responsibility, the continuation, even when it doesn’t feel like you’ve had the chance to prove yourself. And in that way, the next generation can create their own impact, even if it’s built on the foundation of someone else’s work.”

Her tone softened, as if to offer comfort. “What matters is what you do with it — how you build on it, how you shape it into something meaningful for your own time.”

Jack: His eyes softened, the weight of her words settling in. “So it’s about how you carry the legacy forward, not just about whether you feel it’s fair or not. Maybe that’s where the value is — in taking something that’s been given to you and making it your own, bringing it to life in a way that’s true to your generation.”

He sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing. “It’s about making it your own, even if you didn’t start it. And that’s not easy, but it’s what makes the legacy meaningful.”

Jeeny: She smiled gently, her voice reassuring. “Exactly. You’re not bound by the past. You’re simply tasked with continuing it. And in doing so, you get to shape what that legacy means for the future, for the next generation. That’s the beauty of it.”

Host: The room felt lighter now, the earlier tension replaced by a quiet sense of understanding. Jack seemed to have found a new clarity, an acceptance of the complexity of legacy — that it wasn’t about fairness or earning something, but about the continuation of something greater than yourself. The world outside continued its rhythm, but inside, Jack had found a new sense of peace in knowing that legacy wasn’t a burden to carry, but an opportunity to shape and build upon, no matter how it came to you.

End Scene.