Ever since he began constructing his castle in the air, the entire family has 
gone through an upheaval. He has another ten years before he retires but he is already dreaming of his days of leisure and sun. To give shape to his dreams, there is a castle in the background, complete with abundant pergolas, arbours, gardens, trees, fountains et al.

It is alright to dream. I have nothing against dreams because I have a few of them, myself. Day dreaming is also alright, as long as it does not interfere with the activity of others. But my hubby wants me to spare time to sit and dream with him. Now that is a major hassle.

Just when I am in midst of a heavy cooking session or I am conjuring up my next piece of creativity, he is bound to call out lovingly- “Darling, will you spare a minute?”

And then he begins to draw the outlines of his dream house, putting all his requirements on paper. It would be unfair to say that I don’t enjoy dreaming about our ‘yet to be constructed home’. I do. It is only that the timing is not right.

A lot of money and energy has gone into his dream project. No, the land has not yet been acquired nor has the destination been decided. He has been buying up a lot of books on ‘Home Plans’ and interiors. To accommodate his plans, we will definitely have to relocate to a small town or a village where land is still affordable because his plans are both expansive and expensive.

He gets upset that I don’t have the time to sit and dream with him. He accuses me of not being his true soul mate. How do I explain to him that I have to live in the present? A busy wife and a mother doesn’t find time to daydream. She may have attacks of nightmares when she has forgotten to plan for the next day’s menu. She can’t afford to dream, least of all dream about ‘yet-to-be-built’ houses. 

In his dreamhouse, no room is built of realistic dimensions. The flooring is granite and the exteriors are made of smooth stones hewed out of the finest rock faces. The kitchen is a marble-marvel and the baths are sunken luxuries. The skylights are of stained glass and the windows are poetry in glass. The living room is a place of leisure and the study is a den of knowledge. It all sounds so good but I have to live in reality. I refuse to fly high because I can hear the crash of my bones in the ensuing fall.

We have gone on long walks along the paths that lead to mansions. He loves pointing out the façade of one and the tiled- sloping- roof of the other, adding the features to his own project. He is not worried about the finances, or resources. He enjoys his dreams. I love the soft, dreamy look in his eyes when he is drawing the elevation of his dream house. I don’t want to deprive him of his dreams because that is the only thing that makes him go all soft and pliable. I sit and share his dreams once a while, when I have to ask him for an expensive outfit. He can never say ‘no’ after he has finalised his dream plan. 

Long live dreams!