Marveling at every second creature I spot, including people, while my fellow travelers roll their eyes at me, is what makes the whole journey worthwhile. And this is how I get my high while traveling.
Of riding and falling in Germany.
If I were my instructor I would have secretly hoped that I would have a smallish accident, break a bone or two and never return. Thank God, for I was not my instructor.
Most important prerequisite to be good at anything is, don’t “just do it,” it fits best as a Nike slogan, be passionate as if your life depended on it
Commitment with a capital C and make it large, that’s the way it works
Royal Secret never once bucked me; he let me drive him crazy and tolerated me like a wise old grandpa. I bird-watched and learnt my first canter on him. I sympathized deeply with the other riders who fell off their horses and gave them sound advice.
I had a long way to go even to be called a below average rider. My instructor would scream “heels down” and I would say “but there are monkeys,” he would say “sit back” and I would say, “there is a blaring bike on the road,” he would say “reins shorter,” I would say “but there are people watering the plants.” Such was the plight of my instructor. He quit in a matter of few days and I sincerely hope I was not the only reason.
I wanted to impress Mother with my riding skills and change her opinion of me from being a useless daughter to a very talented daughter once and for all. Mother doesn’t think much of horse riding. She would be happier if I learnt bull riding or buffalo riding instead. At least that way my skills could be put to use in soil tilling during the unavailability of a tractor or something.
Love affair with horse riding
Leon Cavallo’s mannerisms intimidated me slightly. His looks and disposition screamed high standards. He was well groomed, had glossy mane and coat and looked strong. His girth had fur lining. Pampered horse I thought.
He had an overpowering demeanor. It felt as if I was standing in front of a celebrity dressed shabbily. I patted him gingerly and he didn’t bite. I breathed a sigh of relief.
While riding a horse you are too busy observing your horse’s body language and communicating to the horse through your own body language. Therefore, you do not have time or space in your mind to process other thoughts. That state of thoughtlessness is what most people try to achieve through meditation. In addition, there is physical exertion. Every riding session feels like a spa session, except that it’s sweaty.
