The only reason why I don't blog nowadays is that I have way too much content to blog and a very pathetic memory recall. So I found my mobile to write this blog 3.25 seconds after the fateful discussion, hence it is here..
K, Aarav and I were packing up for sleep as this discussion started. As I picked up the nail cutter and started cutting Aarav's nails, he asked a very deep and meaningful question, "Aai mi motha zhalo ki Doctor honare, Tu mothi zhalya var Kay honares?"
(Mom, I will be a doctor when I grow up. What do you want to become when you grow up?)
I felt giddy as still not being considered 'motthi' ie an elder or old and very joyfully replied, "Mi Software engineer zhale re..ani Mi already mothi ahe ata..."
(I am a Software engineer.. And I am already an grown up)
"Ho ka?" Aarav replied and after a quick thought confirmed that my status as an elder was acceptable, "Accha."
He was still not satisfied so far though.. "Ani baba? Baba kay zhale motha zhale ki?"
(And dad? What he become when he grew up?)
"Baba pan software engineer zhale re.."
(Dad is also a software engineer)
"Accha." One could see the wheels in his tiny confused head were whirring off at 2000/rpm and he then asked to confirm his suspicion, "Mhanun tumhi doghanni lagna kela ka?"
(OK. Is that why you two got married?)
K suddenly jumped in, "Ho"
Of course that was not the truth and probably K was looking to solve his confusion and end the topic for the day, but my ocd self couldn't resist, "Nahi re, asa nasta. Tula asa ka vatla?"
(No, its not the reason. Why did you think so?)
Aarav quickly told his theory, "Mag same-same asta mhanun lagna karatat asa mala vatla."
(I thought, if you study the same then you can get married)
"Nahi re asa nasta. Same education nasla tari pan lagna karu shaktat"
(No its not like that. You don't need same education to marry)
"Accha", Aarav looked satisfied for a millisecond and then a new question came up, "Mag tu ka babanshi lagna kelas?"
(OK. Well then, why did you marry dad?)
All this while, K was just loitering around. Being the noble wife that I am, a well placed innuendo to get back at the husband for past, present and future disagreements, should inevitably be delivered at opportune moments such as these, I replied, "Baba far chan hote re tevha."
(Baba used to be very good)
K smirked at me and added this to his list of "get back at the wife" for later.
Aarav was watching this interaction and continued worriedly, "Mag ata nahiet ka chan?", Neither of us expected Aarav to catch it!! All I had changed, was the sentence tense to past. Both K and I burst out laughing and Aarav was even more intrigued!
(So is he not good anymore?)
Smilingly I replied to Aarav, "Atta pan chanach ahet re baba. Mala baba avadle mhanun lagna kela."
(Dad is still just as good dear. I love baba so I married him.)
After watching the beaming smiles that passed between K and I, Aarav passed this as an affirmative acceptable statement, "Accha."
While he was formulating another question I asked, "Pan tu asa ka vichartoys re..?"
(But why are you asking this?)
"Mala mahit nahie na mhanun." Aarav stated his ignorance about matrimonial engagements. Quite amusingly this topic was unexpected and we tried to understand his thought process..
(Because I don't know)
"Tula lagna karaychae ka?" K asked Aarav..
(Do you want to get married?)
"Ho." Aarav very sincerely replied.
"Accha, tula kona barobar lagna karaychae.." continued K..
(OK. So who do you want to marry?)
"Mahit nahi ajun mala."
(I don't know that yet)
"Accha. Tula koni avadta ka?" K asked again.
(So do you like someone?)
Aarav immediately replied, "Nahi kahi. Pan lagna kasa karaychae asta te mala mahitie nahie na mhanun vicharla. Mahitie pahije na asa... Mhanun"
(No no. But I don't know the process to get married so I am asking. I should know this. That's why.)
"Accha." That seemed to be a fair enough reason but we had to give him a disclaimer, "Pan tula lagna karayla khoop vel ahe re ajun. 25 zhala ki allowed asta.. Adhi nahi.."
(OK. But there's still a very long time for you to get married. You need to be at least 25 years of age. Not less.)
"Ho ka?" Aarav was confused again and added a few more questions to confirm if we qualified or violated the minimum age for getting married. "Baba, tu kadhi lagna kelas?" And then, "Aai tu kadhi kelas?"
(Are you sure?
Dad, what age did you marry and Mom you?)
Thankfully both of us passed this age test so Aarav was satisfied, "Accha.."
"He bagh.. Tula jevha lagna cha age hoil na.. Tevha tula amhich sangu ki ata lagna karaychae ok.. Atta allowed nahie tula karan ajun tu chota ahes na." I assured him.
(See. When you are of marrying age we will let you know. For now, you are not allowed to marry as you are a kid.)
Aarav found that a trustable promise, "OK. Chalel."
(OK that'll do)
"OK ata zhopaycha ka?" And I got him in bed and egged him on to sleep. With all his urgent burning curiosity resolved Aarav called it a night, "Good night !!!"
(Shall we sleep now? ~~ Good night!!)
While this was a extremely amusing discussion, now while I am writing this blog, I suddenly feel that he's just a kid.. He's barely 7. Aargh.. Too soon to soon!!! Shouldn't we be discussing this a decade later?
Then again, a few of my siblings just got married and he seemed to be pretty impressed by the wedding festivity.
I guess it is only fair for him to enquire about these things being the only eligible bachelor in the house. ;-)
Nonstop entertainment with such adorable thoughts!!!!