White Horse

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, 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.




Popular posts from this blog

The Maharana and his Prodigy

Love Struck

Destiny

Copyright Disclaimer

© Suranya Sengupta Raabta (2013-2026) All Rights Reserved. All original content on this website Raabta including writings, stories, poetry, historical fiction, articles, and other intellectual property (collectively, "Content") is the exclusive property of Suranya Sengupta and protected under the Indian Copyright Act, 1957, as amended, and applicable international copyright conventions, including the Berne Convention.Personal, non-commercial viewing and reading for private use is permitted. Without prior express written consent from the copyright holder, the following uses are strictly prohibited: (i) reproduction, distribution, adaptation, or creation of derivative works from the Content; (ii) scraping, data mining, crawling, or automated extraction; (iii) use of Content to train, fine-tune, or develop artificial intelligence models, machine learning algorithms, large language models (LLMs), or any generative AI technologies; and (iv) any commercial exploitation whatsoever.Unauthorized use constitutes copyright infringement and may result in civil and criminal penalties, including but not limited to demands for statutory damages, actual damages, profits, and injunctive relief. For licensing inquiries or permissions, contact the author Last updated: February 4, 2026.