butterflyuk

I remembered this while reading drD’s pony trekking experience with the pony called Queenie.

I think the pony I remember must be a twin brother of Queenie. The incident happened on the Mount Abu in India a long long time ago. A bunch of girls and boys decided to venture out on the hill station as they called them. As per Indian weather it was pretty cold up there on the mountain. I didn’t think there were many places to visit in Abu but it had an abundance of natural beauty. The real beauty of the place can only be seen by foot.

On the second day a suggestion was made that we should go for the horse riding. By the lakeside ponies of different shapes and sizes were brought to us. Some of the boys were experienced riders so they picked the ones they wanted. The handlers were carefully matching the remaining ponies with the girls. I volunteered to have the “strong headed” pony as they called him because I was so brave! As we all took our seats my pony started pushing his way ahead of the others. The handler instructed to go easy and make sure we stay near him which I sincerely intended to obey but my strong headed pony Chetak didn’t.

By the way the name Chetak was given after the great horse of King Pratap. In the 15th century King Pratap rode Chetak to a battle. The brave and faithful horse got injured alongside his master and lost one leg. The horse still galloped on three legs at a great speed to take his unconscious master to the safety. He died after completing his mission.

My Chetak perhaps wanted to make his namesake proud and walking slow was not his style. As he started to pick up the speed I started to panic. The handler started to shout commands to the horse and to me but both of us were our own people to do as we were told.

Some ponies on normal days were being used to ride around the lake for entertainment rather than mountain trekking. I was glad mine was too because as he heard the commotion and felt my panic he legged it. My Chetak fled with me on his back, totally stunned clinging to his neck.

So there we were galloping away circling the lake on a chilly early morning with me in my so cool tight jersey top and jersey tight pants with sweat pouring out of my face. The stupid horse jumped about so fast that my bra became undone. There were people, especially the boys watching with a confused look not knowing what was happening and there I was with my dignity being thrown about crying and wailing by now. I only had two choices. Either I hold myself to stop bouncing about or keep hold of the pony’s neck.

After the second round around the lake they managed to calm him down enough to stop.
I have never thought about riding a horse after that or have I visited Mount Abu again.