The Cars We Dreamed Of: The Dream Cars That Shaped a Generation of Thai-Indians

As soon as my parents decided it was time for me to have my own bedroom, the first things I moved in were my Matchbox collection and my Bburago 1:18 scale model supercars. I don't remember what colour the walls were, or what else was in the room, but I remember two very red, very loud posters: the Ferrari 512 TR and the Ferrari F50.

Before YouTube reviews and influencers, our dream cars came from Autocar and Top Gear magazines. They came from iconic racing games like Need for Speed and Gran Turismo. They appeared with Brian O'Conner and Dominic Toretto in Fast & Furious (2001). They came from spotting a Ferrari or Lamborghini parked outside the entrance of the Grand Hyatt and convincing your dad to drive past one more time.

Hotel entrances were our motor shows. You never knew what would be waiting outside. A Ferrari. A Porsche 911 Turbo. Maybe a Diablo if you were lucky. You'd press your face against the window, and your dad would pretend he wasn't interested. Then, for absolutely no reason at all, he'd somehow find himself doing another lap around the block. Looking back, I think he wanted another look just as much as we did. 

Back then, if someone spotted a Ferrari outside Central Chidlom, that story travelled faster than WhatsApp forwards from your family group today. The same excitement was shared when a new issue of Top Gear or Autocar were fresh off the presses. You'd read it cover to cover, then read it again because the next issue was still weeks away. 

Every one of us had that car. Mine was the Ferrari 512 TR. If you asked me why, I couldn't have told you. I had never seen one in person. I didn't know what it cost, I certainly didn't know about servicing it, and I definitely didn't know it has a reputation for getting hot and bothered sitting in Bangkok traffic. It looked spectacular and that was enough. In hindsight, we all became experts in cars we had absolutely no chance of owning. I knew the Porsche 911 had a flat-six. I knew the Honda NSX was something special because Ayrton Senna had a hand in developing it. I knew the Nissan Skyline GT-R could apparently beat everything because one kid in school never stopped talking about it. Ask me about interest rates, mortgages or how to change a tire and I wouldn't have had a clue.

The arguments went on for days: Ferrari or Lamborghini; BMW or Mercedes; manual or automatic; Japanese reliability or German engineering. Someone would mention Schumacher. Someone else would say Senna. Half of us had never watched a full Formula One race, but we all had very strong opinions. Every school had that one friend whose father drove something interesting. Nobody really knew what his dad did for a living. We just knew he arrived in a BMW, Mercedes, or Volvo and suddenly everyone wanted to be his friend. There was also always one fellow who claimed his uncle owned a Ferrari. I’m 44 now and still waiting to meet that uncle.

Looking back, my confidence was unbelievable. I probably thought I'd own a Ferrari by twenty-five. When that age finally arrived, I hadn't even taken that Ferrari poster off my wall. Most of us will never own the cars we dreamt about. That's why it's a dream car, not an aspiration. 

Out of curiosity, while writing this article, I sent four simple questions to a few friends from our Thai-Indian community. Some I've known since school. Others I met much later because we discovered we'd happily spend hours talking about cars over coffee. A few wanted to stay anonymous. I wanted to know what they dreamt about growing up, what they actually started driving, what they'd buy today and which car they'd never forget. The replies felt strangely familiar.

Reading everyone's answers, I realised many of us grew up dreaming about exactly the same handful of cars. Nobody said they wanted a good resale, low maintenance, or mentioned fuel economy. The only practical decision we made back then was figuring out where the poster looked best on the wall.

I only received two practical answers that didn't involve posters. One spotted a Lexus GS300 parked in front of Chai Talay and was instantly in love. And Manav’s was a Toyota Starlet. They definitely knew the true value of car ownership before others!

Eventually every one of us heard the same sentence. "You're old enough to learn how to drive." This was the point where our Ferrari dreams met a Toyota Corona. Or a Lancer. Or an Accord. Or whatever happened to be parked downstairs.

I still remember my mum's Volkswagen Beetle that she bought from my masi. On the odd day she came to collect me from school, I secretly hoped she'd park somewhere around the corner because everyone else seemed to arrive in sensible Japanese sedans. Children really don't know anything. In retrospect, mum had the coolest car in the school car park. It stalled on little bridges. We occasionally had to get out and push it. It had more character than half the cars on the road. I wish we'd kept it.

Shezad's answers summed up this whole article quite nicely. As a kid he dreamt about a Ferrari F430 because he was fascinated by rear-engine cars. His first car was a manual Mitsubishi Lancer FA150 where he learnt to drive. Somehow both cars still mean something to him.

For current dream cars, I expected everyone to still say Ferrari. But there were also a few Porsche 911s, an Audi RS6 Avant, a Porsche Panamera Turbo S, a Ferrari Purosangue, a Bentley Continental GT and someone very hardcore mentioned the Aston Martin Valiant.

Sukhchain picked an Audi RS6 Avant as his dream car today, but the one he'd never let go of was the Mazda MX-5 NB. Ask almost any enthusiast and they'll tell you it's one of the purest driver's cars ever built.

KB's answers took me back as well. He grew up when the Germans were making absolutely banging cars, so it wasn't surprising that BMW was his childhood dream. Years later, the BMW 528i Sport became the car his children grew up in. Some cars quietly become part of the family without anyone noticing.

Simmi was the only lady I asked, but she's every bit as obsessed with cars as the rest of us. She grew up loving BMWs, dreams about owning a Porsche Panamera Turbo S today, yet the car she'll always have a soft spot for is the Honda Accord. Her family owned two of them one after another. Comfortable, good looking, practical, decent power, solid resale and absolutely no drama. That's about as perfect an Accord review as you'll ever hear.

Harprem's answers also stood out. As a kid he wanted a Shelby Cobra. Today it's a Ferrari Monza SP2. But when I asked which car he'd always have a soft spot for, he didn't even mention a model. He just said Aston Martin. Sometimes it's not one car. 

One anonymous friend picked the Lexus LFA as the car he'd always remember because he still believes it's one of the finest pieces of Japanese engineering ever built. I liked that answer. Maybe it's the practical side of us Thai-Indians, but I've always enjoyed watching Honda and Toyota punch above their weight. We seem to have a soft spot for the underdog.

And as for my young friend, one car he will always have a soft spot for is the Porsche 911 specifically the 997 Generation. The 997 generation debuted with the greatest car commercials he had ever seen at the time where a young boy leaves school, rides his bicycle to a Porsche dealership and is welcomed by the salesman to take a seat inside the latest generation 911. Before the young boy gets out he says “I’ll see you in about 20 years”. Hooked ever since.

Then my cousin Manav ignored the question completely and listed a Tesla Model Y Performance, a NIO Firefly, an AVATR and, for reasons only he understands, a solar-powered golf cart around Sukhumvit. Honestly, after sitting in Sukhumvit traffic, I'm beginning to think the golf cart isn't such a bad idea.

The answers were different, but they all had one thing in common. People still wanted cars they couldn't wait to get into every morning.

My favourite question wasn't about dream cars. It was the last one: “which car will always make you smile?”

The answers weren't always Ferraris. There was a Honda Accord. A BMW 528i Sport. A Volvo 244. A Mazda MX-5. Dr. Raman chose the Countach because he still thinks it's automotive art. Vinny picked the Mazda MX-5 because it's "small but punchy" (that might also be the best description of Vinny as well).

The anonymous Volvo answer probably says the most. He sat in one as a child and never forgot it. That's all it took. Cars are funny like that. Sometimes you remember the engine and sometimes you remember the road. Most of the time you remember how it felt to be sitting in it.

Putting this article together reminded me that most of us didn't become car enthusiasts because we owned exciting cars, we became enthusiasts because we imagined them, argued about them and read about them. We spotted one outside a hotel or a shopping centre and talked about it for a week. 

Meet a few car people for breakfast today and not much has changed. Sharma ji will tell you Mercedes built their last proper cars in the 1990s. Gupta ji will argue nothing beats Japanese reliability. Uncle Harjaspreet won't agree with either of them. He'll just order another coffee, wait for everyone else to finish, then quietly explain why they're all wrong. Two hours later nobody has changed their mind. We’re back to Japanese reliability or German engineering all over again.