It was the same dream, that visited him in his sleep every single night, for the past few years. That caused a strange kind of nagging in his bone; it was also the first thing that woke him up in the morning. The boy under the bridge sighed and opened his eyes, squinting at the sun warming his face.

"Are you up Mannu raja? Trust raja sahib slept well?" His friend snapped his fingers in front of his face and asked him laughingly.

Mannu slapped his back affectionately but refused the stale bun he was offered and sat staring at the ground with brooding eyes.

"What? You are refusing food? There must be something really wrong. What's making you think so much?"

The boy on the bridge sighed," That same old dream."

His friend shook his head, "It's just a dream, bhai. Why are you so obsessed with it? The more you give it so much importance, the more it keeps repeating itself. Here, eat this bun quickly. Let's go find some work or we have to eat from the garbage bins again."

Mannu nodded his head but could not ever forget his dream. It was always a quaint little house painted yellow with a blue door and a shiny new blue scooter parked right outside.

Considering the only ‘house’ he possessed was a little corner under the bridge and the only vehicle he would probably ever possess were his two feet that took him everywhere; this was a very impossible, bizarre dream. He thought about it all the time wondering what it meant. He spent all his waking hours creating theories on it ranging from romantic to rebirth to futuristic.

For an orphan who was abandoned on the streets, he was lucky, he was taken care of by his best friend’s parents and other street dwellers. He should be content but his dream became an obsession until it felt like a blood vessel that would burst in his brain if he didn’t pursue it.

Today, as they begged at the traffic signal, Mannu had made up his mind. But felt a pang of guilt. Was he being a traitor, leaving his only family behind?

The day passed quickly and they were now relaxing under the bridge, his friend chewing paan while he stared at the night sky. He waited until he could hear his friend’s snores and then quietly slunk away. Once he reached the main road, he clutched the little bundle of his meagre belongings and simply ran. He ran till he felt like the trees were a blur and the noises and sounds, so familiar now seemed like they were left behind in a past birth. He stopped only when he suddenly realized daylight was creeping in and the horizon was tinted a blushing red. The sky was bright and clear, a few stars still lingering though.

He had left the city far behind. The scenery around him indicated he was in a village. He walked on for some more time until he found a crowd of people talking animatedly.

“Namaste”, he said hesitatingly when a pretty woman amongst them spoke, “Are you also here for the ‘Back to School program? ”

She was so pretty, her voice was so sweet albeit firm, he could only stare at her, his mouth hanging; he nodded stupidly.

“All of you follow me. As you know, this is a special initiative by the government to help adults get an education and we will try getting you jobs suiting your skills. I am your teacher. All the best.”

That night, he slept with a hoard of people from different parts of the state in a specially built accommodation, attached to their school. He dreamt again for one last time.

Many years passed. He had married his teacher and had two cute kids. They found a job as teachers in a new town. He had completely forgotten his old life and his persistent dream.

Today, as he stood outside his house, waiting for his wife and kids, the reality hit him.

His modest house was painted yellow. His door was blue. And just outside was his blue scooter. The eyes of the boy on the bridge widened, as his family settled on their two-wheeler “Let us go. We are getting late.”

She could not imagine why all of a sudden, her husband collapsed on the ground, clutching his sides and laughing like a maniac!!