La belle dame sans merci
Check out what's fairer sex's problem with PAARTH JOSHI
I think my equation with women can never be postulated. Even the briefest of interaction with them have confused me. Indeed if a graphical representation had to be made, a ‘confused loop’ could well fit the picture. Dealing with such inconsistencies in life, I set out to be a tangawala. And abiding by the aforementioned laws of attraction, here too I derived a very fine example of mutual disagreement during my interaction with this horse; I call her Dhanno.
My foray as a horse carriage rider failed at the very first attempt as Dhanno showed her displeasure in dealing with me. This time I also ruled out the possibility of bad breath... I couldn’t have one worse than that of a horse. But I was to embark upon this journey even if lady luck was frowning at me.
As I climbed the carriage, Usmanbhai explained that Dhanno has a very delicate disposition. “She doesn’t like to be ridden by any stranger, so you’ll have to take care,” he said. I wasn’t the only one with whom Dhanno rubbed cold shoulders; three young boys and a fourth very young boy also joined us.
Horse-riding isn’t like manoeuvring your bike gears. Here you deal with creatures with emotions and in my case, a Female Chauvinist Horse. You pull the leash in a direction in which you want the horse to go. So did I when Dhanno started clip-clopping on the street, but she simply took the other direction. And so Usmanbhai gave her a call ‘hurrrrr....’. She understood the message and came back on track.
The ‘hurrrr...’ and the leash quite helped me ride the carriage for some time. But suddenly, Dhanno stopped running. We were right in the middle of a busy street and it felt like time had come to a halt only for us. Like a zombie, I looked at Usmanbhai for a clue, “She is answering nature’s call,” he explained patiently. It took two seconds for that to hit me. Meanwhile, as Dhanno resumed her ride, catching speed, Chotu, the very young boy, started to cry. With the theme of Mission Impossible playing in my head, we start galloping again. I looked behind at Chotu and at the same moment Dhanno went out of control. I don’t know what went through my mind, I said ‘hurrr...’ while still looking at Chotu. This now gave him a legitimate reason to cry even louder. In this haste we circled our route and came back to the pavilion. The boys and Dhanno felt happy. I felt tricked by a beautiful lady without mercy.
Check out what's fairer sex's problem with PAARTH JOSHI
I think my equation with women can never be postulated. Even the briefest of interaction with them have confused me. Indeed if a graphical representation had to be made, a ‘confused loop’ could well fit the picture. Dealing with such inconsistencies in life, I set out to be a tangawala. And abiding by the aforementioned laws of attraction, here too I derived a very fine example of mutual disagreement during my interaction with this horse; I call her Dhanno.
My foray as a horse carriage rider failed at the very first attempt as Dhanno showed her displeasure in dealing with me. This time I also ruled out the possibility of bad breath... I couldn’t have one worse than that of a horse. But I was to embark upon this journey even if lady luck was frowning at me.
As I climbed the carriage, Usmanbhai explained that Dhanno has a very delicate disposition. “She doesn’t like to be ridden by any stranger, so you’ll have to take care,” he said. I wasn’t the only one with whom Dhanno rubbed cold shoulders; three young boys and a fourth very young boy also joined us.
Horse-riding isn’t like manoeuvring your bike gears. Here you deal with creatures with emotions and in my case, a Female Chauvinist Horse. You pull the leash in a direction in which you want the horse to go. So did I when Dhanno started clip-clopping on the street, but she simply took the other direction. And so Usmanbhai gave her a call ‘hurrrrr....’. She understood the message and came back on track.
The ‘hurrrr...’ and the leash quite helped me ride the carriage for some time. But suddenly, Dhanno stopped running. We were right in the middle of a busy street and it felt like time had come to a halt only for us. Like a zombie, I looked at Usmanbhai for a clue, “She is answering nature’s call,” he explained patiently. It took two seconds for that to hit me. Meanwhile, as Dhanno resumed her ride, catching speed, Chotu, the very young boy, started to cry. With the theme of Mission Impossible playing in my head, we start galloping again. I looked behind at Chotu and at the same moment Dhanno went out of control. I don’t know what went through my mind, I said ‘hurrr...’ while still looking at Chotu. This now gave him a legitimate reason to cry even louder. In this haste we circled our route and came back to the pavilion. The boys and Dhanno felt happy. I felt tricked by a beautiful lady without mercy.
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