Ajabdeh was being helped by a maid to dress in a pair of leather pants and a tank top she could find in her
luggage. She was putting on her boots when another maid informed her that some “Pratap
Singh” was here to see her. She frowned. She was hearing this name for the
first time. The grandfather clock in the hallway had just struck six, and her
eyes lit up.
Pratap was looking around the well-maintained lawn, with a fountain and chairs and tables with umbrellas around
the fountain area. He was standing in the middle of the ground, in his camouflage
cargo pants, brown leather boots and a black polo tee shirt neatly tugged in,
enough to show off his well-maintained torso and arms, when he heard sounds of
boots. He turned to see Rajkunwari Ajabdeh, her hair neatly tied in a ponytail
above her head, walking towards him, wearing a pair of black rectangular
shades, accompanied by her manager in tow.
“Good Morning, Mr Rider.” Ajabdeh had
smiled chirpily.
“Good Morning.” He had smiled, eyeing the
manager frowning at him, “...Hukum.”
“This is Mr Chundawat.” The man shook his
head, murmuring, “We have already met.”
“Good then.” Ajabdeh stared at her manager, “I suppose you show us the stable and go on with your work.”
“I can stay here if you need me, Baisa
Hukum.” He had said in a low tone.
“I don’t think I need you, Mr Chundawat. Please show me the stable.” She had walked past the men who exchanged a glance.
It was clear that Mr Chundawat had trust issues. Whether it was only for him or a part of his job, Pratap couldn’t tell.
The rear side of the estate had farms.
Chundawat directed them to the way with an arrow saying “Stable” and bowed, informing
the caretaker was there to show them around and left. Ajabdeh removed her
glasses and blinked a little in the sudden exposure to sunlight. Pratap
silently followed her footsteps through the stone-laid path, keeping his
distance.
“The main thing about horse riding is
choosing a horse.” Pratap had broken the silence. “It is either you choose them
or they choose you. For life.”
“Unlike people.” Ajabdeh had murmured
plainly, which Pratap heard from behind her. “So your name is Pratap?” He nodded
as Ajabdeh half-turned with a frown.
“The maid told me.” She continued to walk,
as he followed carefully, keeping his distance. “Nice way to let people know
your name.”
“Excuse me?” He frowned “How else will
I say who I am?”
“Horse rider.” She snapped.
“I am more than just my profession.” He had
answered back in a reflex.
“Are you?” She frowned, looking at him
“Well, not to me.” Pratap clenched his jaw and checked his temperament
again. He couldn’t lose his cool on the first day at work.
“So what are your fees?” She had asked, reaching the fences of the stable.
“Actually, I charge extra for one-on-one...”
He stopped at her hand gesture.
“Name your amount and Chundawat will take
care of it.” She shrugged.
“Thank you.” He nodded at her smile.
“Let’s see some horses now.”
Ajabdeh had
stepped into the stable area and covered her nose in a reflex. Pratap smiled, amused and walked past her inside one of the sheds for the horses. A young boy,
about seventeen, rushed out to greet them “Welcome, Rajkuwarisa Hukum, I am
Patta, the caretaker of the horses.”
“How many are there?” Pratap had asked. Patta
stared at him cluelessly.
“He will teach me how to ride,” Ajabdeh
spoke, introducing him. “What’s your name again?”
“Pratap.” He was somehow sure she didn’t
forget his name in the first place. “You can call me Bhaiya, Patta.”
Patta grinned at him and back at Ajabdeh, “Come, I have cleaned up the stable for you.”
“How many horses do you have here?” Pratap
asked the boy again.
“Six... umm... actually five, Bhaiya.”
Patta shook his head.
“Five or six?” Ajabdeh had managed from
behind her white handkerchief, “And what is this smell?”
“Horse dunk!” Pratap’s voice was monotonous, and he did not even notice her face turned like she was about to puke.
“Six, one doesn’t come out, so five.” Patta
nodded.
“Doesn’t come out?” Pratap frowned “Why?”
“He is... uncontrollable. So Raoji Hukum
instructed me to keep him inside the stable at all costs. He is probably old, too.” He had opened the other horses for them to see. “Every time we take him
out, he creates mayhem.” He had proceeded to the horses, followed by Pratap, who
inspected each one carefully.
“This is Badal, Rajkunwari Heer Baisa’s
pony. This is Fateh, he is the youngest, and this is Paris. He is of the Marwadi
breed. This is Rudra. That is Bali.” Patta had carefully avoided a door marked
“9”.
“What about this one?” Ajabdeh pointed.
“Why is this door bolted and chained?”
“It remains inside. I give food and water by opening the upper half of the door. Even then, it hits the door hard trying to
get out. I heard he was bought some twenty years back at the Sarangkheda
Mela...”
“Show him to me once.” Pratap and Ajabdeh
had said in unison and stared at each other with a frown.
Patta was reluctant even at the last moment
to open the stable door. “I know you are curious, Bhaiya, but I am telling you, Hukum, he is uncontrollable, he is very...”
“I will take responsibility; show him to
me.” Pratap said with a hint of confidence in his tone, “I don’t think any horse
is agitated without a cause.”
“But...” Patta spoke, staring at Ajabdeh, “Raoji told...”
“Open the door, Patta, it is my order!”
Ajabdeh was firm.
As soon as Patta opened the stable door,
there was a grunting noise inside. It was dark and hard to see, and Ajabdeh was
about to peep in to see the source of the noise when Pratap’s well-built arm stretched
out, blocking her way, carefully avoiding contact and stopping her from stepping
further. His eyes were fixed on the door’s entrance. Ajabdeh frowned.
In a flash, almost like thunder, a white
horse had run from the stable and into the wide meadow outside.
“I told you he is uncontrollable, it took
us 3 hours to control him last time,” Patta said in urgency, rushing over to
check with Pratap in toe. Ajabdeh stepped out well behind them to see the horse
run in circles across the meadow. Its body, although unclean, was still shining
white, eyes black and mane a little blonde, just like her highlights. Ajabdeh
stood in awe as, for the first time in her life, she was witnessing a horse run
free. Pratap had a smile on his face.
“Simply the best of the breeds.” He said it almost like a compliment to the horse. Then his smile faded into a frown.
“Patta, is he hurt or injured?” Patta frowned at his words.
“He hasn’t been taken out in years, even if
there was a past injury....” He said.
“He hadn’t healed properly.” Pratap
finished.
“How can you say that?” Ajabdeh asked
eagerly.
“You see his left back leg?” He had pointed, “He is carefully keeping it up so that it doesn’t brush the ground. He stays
agitated because he is an injured stallion who is imprisoned.” Ajabdeh stared
at him and back at the horse.
“ Ummm... so how do we... umm... stop that
thing?” She had turned to Patta, who sighed.
“I will call the guards to come with whips
and...” He had stopped with wide eyes as Ajabdeh turned to follow his gaze.
Pratap stood right in the middle of the
horse’s circular motion and attempted to get hold of its reins. “What is he
doing?” Ajabdeh had said it almost like a gasp.
“Is he mad? He will get hurt!” Patta
frowned.
The moment Pratap managed to get hold of
the reins, he smiled, and the horse neighed, clearly not ready to surrender.
Pratap had made a failed attempt to get on him and make him his ride.
“It is no use. He doesn’t let anyone sit on
him.” Patta shook his head. Ajabdeh had her eyes fixed on the horse and the
man. Pratap had got back up on his feet and held the reins again. This time,
the horse rose on two legs, and he fell back. Then suddenly the horse started
running back towards the stable, as Pratap caught hold of his reins, but he was
too fast. Pratap jumped to hold on to his neck, but the horse did not lose its
speed with him hanging from its side.
“Move away!” His warning had perhaps made
Ajabdeh’s heart thud louder as she found herself standing in the way of the
beast. Patta had made a run for his life.
“Stop!!” Ajabdeh had closed her eyes in a
reflex, hiding her face behind her palm and opened them to see the horse
standing inches away from her, grunting, and Pratap patting it gently, mounted
on it. Something in the horse’s eyes was way more gentle now.
“You could have been injured; you should
have moved away, Princess.” Pratap’s voice was firm.
“I... I... you were stopping him!” She
narrowed her eyes with a frown.
“What if I couldn’t?” He asked, shrugging.
“I assumed you would.” Ajabdeh frowned.
“That’s your job.”
Patta came back from behind the haystack, panting and frowned “Do you know this horse?” He had asked Pratap.
“I don’t think I do! I am just good with
horses.” He had flashed an arrogant smile at the princess.
“No. I mean, he stopped when you touched
him with your palm, it was like he recognised your touch and...” Patta frowned.
“This never happened before.”
“Or no one was gentle to him before?”
Pratap got down from the horse and patted it. “Clean him up, Patta; he is very
dirty.” Pratap inspected the horse.
“Come on, Princess, if you want him to
choose you, you need to make him feel you, too.” He had gestured at Ajabdeh to
pat the horse. With slow, measured steps, she now stood near him. “That is how
they connect.”
“The name is Ajabdeh, not Princess, and like
you said, respect shouldn’t be implied.”
“But I work for you now.” He was still
staring at the horse’s shiny skin.
“Yes, I will prefer Ma’am then. Not
princess. I am not a princess.” Her last words were unusually firm, or so Pratap
noticed. She had placed her hand on the horse’s neck and started stroking it
slowly. Pratap knelt down to inspect its leg, and Patta sat down beside him.
“You see there. It is a cut mark.” Pratap
pointed.”He wasn’t properly treated.”
“But what can possibly cut him there?”
Patta frowned.
“Hmm.”Pratap frowned and touched the
horse, and it suddenly neighed as if in pain.
In a reflex, Ajabdeh held his rein, and he stood firm again, and Pratap looked at her, studying her face.
“Your first time with a horse?” he asked.
“Yes.” She nodded, staring at the horse in
awe.
“Then how did you hold the reins when he
was agitated?” He frowned.
“I don’t know, maybe a reflex?” She stared
at him and back at the horse.
“A strange inborn reflex, I must say.” His
voice was almost like a murmur.
“So how do I make him choose me?” She asked
eagerly.
“Patience is the key.” He half-smiled and
patted the horse as it neighed.
“He really liked you, Pratap Bhaiya.” Patta
grinned.
“So he does.” Frowning, Ajabdeh shook her head, “So what now?”
“Nothing. My hour is over, see you
tomorrow.” Pratap checked his watch and started to leave “I don’t work more
than what I am paid for. And Patta, get me some turmeric, Basil and sandalwood. I
will teach you how to make a paste for the injury.”
“But...” Ajabdeh sighed, watching him leave.
