Na

Life wouldn’t be

- as avant(i) garde (wearing clothes front to back on her advice),

-half as embarrassing (survive her teasing, you can face a lot later on),

-half as ….??? (no one else has as many pictures of my body parts on their phone).

She’s offered me a great potential for happy polyandry – lost count of the number of “sexy” men who’ve been proposed.

She idolizes men folk and lives independence and feminism by example. And equality: loyal trishaw drivers, old school teachers and formidable family matriarchs are treated with the same respect, and subject to the same bewildering humour.

She, only, is qualified to teach me Information Technology, Optometry, Pharmaceuticals, Massage Therapy and Pubic Policy – Not the alphabet though: her method would  prob start with B, C,D, then hastily remember A, then jump to K, P, S. Innovative method before its time.

When she’s around, there’s

-usually alcohol, and if not visible (while putting kids to bed), just one phone call and VAT and VSOA will appear,

- suggestions out of the hat box: “give her ice cream and her sore throat will be fine”,

- encyclopedic knowledge: try being on the rival team at quiz night!

To spend long hours at book fairs, to come to my help at midnight, to feel calm thanks to her presence when armed men detain our vehicle for hours in the night, to answer my calls like the world wasn’t divided into time zones, …

    I can count on her.