Last night, I had a dream. It was one of the most beautiful dreams I ever had. I mean most times I dream about useless things. The sort of things that deprive one of much needed sleep for no good reason. What is the point dreaming that you were having a drink with friends who disappeared without paying?
Why should we dream useless dreams such as running away from a teacher wielding a cane back when you were a child? These are what I call useless dreams.
The thing about dreams is that you cannot decide to dream about stuff that you like only. We cannot choose our favourite dreams. That is why we have nightmares.
These are bad dreams that jolt you drenched in sweat, and with heart thumping in fear you realise you are still alive and that car did not run you over.
A couple of years back when we were still virile and young, and believed in love, we even had wet dreams. They were lovely dreams, which could be embarrassing as well. Nowadays, with all the problems we are having, one wishes they could have a wet dream, at least once a week. Things are so tough not even a wet dream is possible. Let alone the real thing. Unless a man pops one of those blue pills there is no joy in life anymore. I guess as we advance in age we should dream serious dreams.
The nice thing is that when you dream serious dreams on a regular basis they might one day just come true. That is why my dream of yesterday remains so vivid I want to dream it every single day – starting with tonight.
For those of you who don’t know the central bank, it is where all the money belonging to the country is kept. All the money that we send to our folks back in the village comes from that bank. It is a big bank. All the others are baby banks. They get money from the central bank. The central bank can shut them down if they are cheeky. When you give your young dish a wad of cash to spoil herself, it comes from the big bank. When after being caught with somebody’s wife you have to compensate them, the wages of sin come from the central bank.
You wonder what happens to those worn out bank notes? The grubby notes that look like they can give one some dreadful disease? Well every shop and baby bank returns them to the central bank to be issued with new crisp notes. The kind of notes which one day when I am a millionaire, I will pay a visit just to see them breathing and relaxing.
Anyway the worn out notes are supposed to be incinerated. But as one of the benefits of working in the central bank is that the boys and girls who burn them are also allowed to grab a few notes and buy themselves lunch and cigarettes. Don’t complain. Every job has its fringe benefits.
That brings me to my dream last night. I dreamt I was not one of the little clerks whose job is to burn old notes and buy themselves lunch with a few worn out notes. I dreamt I was the governor of the central bank. Overseer of all the baby banks. I lived in a huge mansion. It was so huge it took me a couple of weeks to know each and every room. All the rooms had expensive curtains. Not the cheap cloth curtains you see in the houses of lesser mortals. These are imported curtains. They open themselves and draw themselves in response to my moods. When I feel sad they glide shut. When I feel bright they open themselves to let in the sunshine.
There were so many rooms in my mansion I had no use for some of them. Okay two bedrooms were occupied by my pet poodles. Not the mongrels you see roaming the streets and barking at the man on the moon. These were designer dogs which resembled a lush white carpet. If not careful, visitors could step on a poodle thinking it is an expensive carpet.
My poodles ate rice and fresh mince delivered by the top shops. They drank mineral water. As I dreamt on I saw myself flying first class to overseas destinations. I flew so often every major airline knew me. I ate caviar and sipped mineral water.
I dreamt one of the airlines asking me if I was in the oil industry. They had never seen so much affluence. I told them I was the central bank governor. They couldn’t believe it. They said in their country central bank governors could not fly around the world every week, eating caviar and sipping mineral water. I told them my country was different from theirs.
If only they could see my mansion and curtains. If only they knew my poodles ate rice and fresh mince. I wonder what they would have said had they seen my huge luxury sedan. It is a cross between an aero plane and a car.
In my dream I was reading a car magazine that said in two years time they would have invented a car model that could fly. I placed an order for it. Taxpayers must know they cannot get my services for free. Always tired after a long day at work I had a beverage machine installed. It is a new invention. What it does is I simply select my choice of drink and the machine slides to the fridge, pours and slides back to where I am seated. If I need some ice, I press another button and the machine goes and fetches it.
I had some central bank governors who came over for a conference and when they saw my machine they wanted it. When they heard the price tag they said their banks could not afford it.
For a perdicure and manicure the beauticians come to the mansion. I sacked one of them when she stepped on my cute poodle. I could not sack the one who has a secret ointment that keeps me looking for ever young so I can stay governor till eternity.
As for my food, a delivery van arrived every two days with fresh organic groceries. The groceries were replaced every two days without fail. If I was away the delivery men could take the groceries. How the kids in the poor areas rejoiced when they ate the food I rejected because it was two days old! I then had a nightmare. Just as I was about to award myself a hefty bonus, I woke up. Now I want to dream my favourite dream again. The beautiful dream of when I was governor of the big bank!
