Bringing Up Baby

An hour down the road, I found myself being sized up by my other ward (for a day)—a handsome, bay-coloured one-and-a-half year old colt with lovely eyes. Though he was about 411 kg and 148 cm tall, he definitely looked easier to handle, from all angles. ‘‘Never stand behind a horse. He might kick you,’’ said Asghar Khan, the strapping yearling manager in charge of breaking-in at the Nanoli Stud Farm near Pune.

The horse, however, seemed to harbour no such devious designs as he happily trotted off with us into the farm’s huge barn. This was the ‘school’ and most young horses began their day here with a 10-minute process called lunging.

‘‘Before you start, get to know him. Pat him, come close, talk to him,’’ suggested Khan. I thought of my son’s pictures from his time at the horse farm—one of them was of him nuzzling a horse. A similar frame with me in it would be invaluable at home, I thought, as I patted and talked to the horse, who had no name as such.

Most young horses on stud farms stay nameless and the privilege of naming them goes to their new owners. ‘‘Till then we refer to them by their mother’s name. This one is Little Cinderella’s son,’’ said Khan. Gladly noting the prevalence of a matriarchal system at stud farms, I got down to business.

The first thing you do while breaking in a horse is tie the tendon boots on its forelegs—they protect the most sensitive and most important part of a horse’s peds.

Next, the lunging head collar or the bridle is strapped on by stretching it from over the head, slipping it behind the ears and finally pushing the metal bit into the mouth.

Khan held one end of the lunging rope that came from behind the horse’s hind legs in his right hand. In his left hand, he held the shorter rolled-up end attached to the lunging head collar.

Tugging at both ends, he cracked the right side of the rope against the horse’s hind legs. This was the horse’s cue to run in circles around Khan, while he manoeuvred the ropes accordingly.

Soon, the ropes were in my hand. But before I knew it, one side had slid down and the horse was stomping on the rope. ‘‘Pull it tight,” shouted Khan. I managed to get it back on the hind legs and started all over again. ‘‘Loosen the left hand rope,’’ Khan ordered.

I did as instructed and cracked the right side of the rope against the horse’s hind legs. The technique seemed to work, except that the horse was running in such big circles that in seconds we’d moved from one end of the barn to another.

‘‘Don’t budge. Turn around in one spot as he moves. Show him who’s the boss,’’ said Khan. We started again, but no go. ‘‘He’s smart, knows you are raw,’’ grinned Khan.

Meanwhile, all that pulling was making my arms go wobbly. ‘‘Enough for today, or it will get too tiring,’’ boomed Khan. He also added that young horses can usually run around for 10 to 12 minutes a day and Little Cinderella’s son had already gone through a 10-minute session before I came. ‘‘Can’t do more or he’ll start sweating,’’ he said.

It was feeding time. I held some grass to the horse’s mouth, which he chomped up. ‘‘Never clasp a bundle of grass with your fingers, an open palm is better. A horse doesn’t know the difference between grass and fingers,” Khan warned.

Next on the day’s agenda was saddling, but since my horse was still in Phase One—lunging—and completely unprepared for the trauma of saddling, out came Jack, a seasoned stud.

Jack stood calmly as I threw the saddle over his back and got the girth around the stomach. Before buckling the straps, one has to ensure that the saddle is neither too loose nor too tight.

The stage was set for Part III—riding a horse. My head protected by a helmet, I put my left foot on the stirrup and tried to swing my right leg over Jack’s back. Plaackk! That’s the sound your body makes as it meets the ground in an undignified way.

My second attempt was better. With Khan and two stable hands assisting me, I was up and on the horse’s back in a jiffy.

The trot around the barn was going nicely. I finally had the feeling of having a horse under control, when Jack started to get a little restless. Looking ahead, I saw another group of horses being led to the barn. They were a group of mares! ‘‘I think you’d better get down fast,’’ said Khan. Jack looked excited.

I wanted to alight, but on a horse you don’t make haste. There are rules that need to be followed. Get down, pat Jack… I dispensed with decorum and was sprinting much ahead of him, leaving his reins in the nearest available pair of hands.

Outside, two Fellabellas came up to me as I was leaving the farm. I patted them and fed them juicy grass. This was so much better. Don’t know about breaking in, but in case anyone needs a pat-feed-pat type of stablehand, they know who to call.