Three dosas with sambar and chutney. The flavour of the brinjal mixed with lentils was still on my tongue as I waited to drink the water. The dosas had been crisp and the chutney was as it was meant to be. It brought back fond memories of my mother's cooking. A steaming cup of hot filter coffee was served immediately after. It was fresh milk and had the taste I used to have from my days in the village. I paid the bill with a crisp hundred rupee note. The exact change was returned with the receipt. "No tips" read the sticker on top of the bill. The waiter did not pause for a response.

I walked out of the restaurant and looked at the alley with my hands moving towards my nose by reflex. It used to reek of urine but that day it was clean. It was a pleasant surprise. There were three placards on the wall. "Dustbin" with the right arrow. "Toilet" with a left arrow. "Littering is punishable by fine and/or imprisonment"

I smiled on seeing the placards and drove to the PF office. It was my routine for the past six years. I took a token and waited for my number. Nobody in the queue stepped out of line today. The office was buzzing with activity. I had my newspaper to keep me company. In one hour, I was in front of the official. It was an unfamiliar feeling. He checked my details and signed without another word. I looked at him doubtfully. He pointed to a sign on the right. "Serving the people is its own reward"

Tears flowed down my eyes. I took some time to compose myself and left the office in better spirits. I did not care that I had nothing to do the next day. My future had opened up. When I reached the parking lot, my phone alerted me. There was a message. "Running late mom. Hope you are well. I'll visit you in the morning. Love you"

Neelima woke up with a satisfied smile on her face. She sat up and looked at the doctor who sat bewildered. She had just tested the prototype of a dream machine. It helped people live their dreams virtually. There was an advertisement calling for volunteers to test the machine for a modest fee. Neelima needed the money. 

"You could have used the machine to dream about literally anything," he said softly. 

Good food, clean surroundings, officials who did not expect a bribe and the love of her son were all dreams to her. It is a dream for so many people in the country. She did not care what the doctor thought. She smiled at him. 

There was pain in that smile. She had no memory of having all of them together. Or any of them.