Perhaps it's time to get back on the horse. I mean to say, there you are at the dear old Tolly in Calcutta and decide to go for a morning ride. So put on those burnished field boots, stroll over to the stables, swing into the saddle and... make a complete fool of yourself because you haven't actually ridden in a few years, four, to be precise.
All wrong. No, none of that. Instead you mount up and ride on into the dawn of a new Bengal day, moving from walk, to trot, to canter, to gallop, all seamlessly and in union with the horse itself. Man and beast at one. OK, so you have a warm up in the arena first to get to know the horse, but that's all good and your Syce suspends his inclination to scorn a new rider. Ride over, you fall back to the veranda for refreshments, the day is young.
Now you see where I'm going with this. If you want to go on a tour of the Clubs of the Old Raj, you'd better be able to ride. That in mind, the Lenten fast is moving me to call up the Senior Warden and ask, "I say, J, d'ye know someone who can sort me out for remedial lessons, English style?"
She'll say yes and we can go from there, maybe to a half lease, and even if the Tolly plan, magnificent in scope, doesn't work out it's still way better than a gym membership. So let's see how this equestrian plan pans out. In the meanwhile, here's J in the day:
What an athlete! Her husband was too, RIP, a world champ Bronc Rider and MC/Treasurer at Mission #2 to boot. But rodeo aside, I feel that it'd be good to get in the saddle again and actually learn the discipline. Or something like that.
Cheers,
LSP
