For as long as I recall, a scooter has been my dream—

a dance on two wheels, spinning magic in the air.

More than a machine, it whispers with the wild wind,

a breath of freedom, a melody of grace on the road.

Who could resist such liberation, the joy of gliding through life like a feather on a breeze?

I confided in friends, colleagues, and kin about this burning desire—a dream to possess a scooter, a chariot of my own. Some laughed, while others ridiculed and mocked at me. They were unanimous: this dream was beyond my reach, who toiled daily for mere bread, still tangled in the web of Maslow’s lower pyramid, striving to satisfy the basic needs of life. Perhaps they were right, for I was just another wage earner, bound by the shackles of necessity. But even as they spoke, my heart clung stubbornly to its dream, an ember refusing to die.

I knew the world outside was unforgiving, where dreams often shatter against the jagged rocks of reality. Between what is and what could be stands an unyielding wall, an unbreachable divide. As I slowly began to accept this harsh truth, each night I sought refuge in sleep, shutting my eyes to escape the relentless brutality of the waking world.

But in the quiet depths of slumber, a dream would always rise, unfurling like a secret garden where my heart roamed free. It was there every time—a vision shimmering on the horizon of my mind. I saw myself astride it, weaving through the discordant symphony of city traffic. Other times, it whisked me away to tranquil villages, where we sailed through lush green tapestries.

This dream companion of mine crisscrossed the narrow veins of teeming towns, splashed through the monsoon’s playful puddles, and bore the weight of the summer sun’s sweltering embrace. In the bitter chill of winter, it remained my steadfast ally, its blue frame glowing against the frost-kissed dawn. With a whisper of the throttle, it would leap forward, but would just as easily halt at my command, obedient to my slightest wish. And so I dreamt, night after night, lost in the embrace of a fantasy that refused to fade. I dreamt and dreamt—until dreaming became my only truth.

But then, something within me shifted, like the quiet turning of a season. The dreams, once so vivid and relentless, began to fade, their colors bleeding into the gray of dawn. How long can one spin the same dream from the threads of desire? Eventually, reality's cold embrace drew me in, and the last flickers of that yearning slowly dimmed and died, like embers surrendering to the night.

I turned my gaze instead to my career, its demands growing louder as the echoes of my once fervent dream grew faint. I no longer spoke of the scooter to friends or family; the words seemed hollow now, remnants of a story that no longer held meaning. As the days rolled on, that once-burning desire was gently buried beneath the sands of time, until it was as if I had never craved a scooter at all.

One fateful morning, the clock's harsh alarm wrenched me from the arms of sleep. Still tangled in the remnants of dreams, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and stumbled to the door. As I gazed outside, my vision blurred by the haze of half-waking, I caught sight of something—something blue, shimmering in the early light.

I blinked, my mind struggling to shake off the fog of slumber, and focused again. There it was, gleaming like a sapphire under the sun—the very blue scooter that had haunted my dreams for so long. I moved closer, my heart pounding in disbelief, each step confirming what my mind could scarcely accept. I reached out, my fingers trembling, and as they brushed against the cool metal, I felt the undeniable solidity of reality. It was no mirage, no figment of a dream— it was real, alive, and vibrant before me.

My story, I know, seems strange to many. Some whisper that I was always a sleepwalker, wandering between the worlds of dream and reality. Others weave tales of my dream breaching the veil between worlds, where an angel heard my unspoken wish and bestowed upon me this enchanted machine. And then there are those who say it was a reward, a surprise from my company for my tireless diligence, a tangible token of recognition.