I am a Grey Horse

I am a Grey Horse

By Tanha Emita

I was born in a rambling barn. A place so filthy, where even a horse like me would spit in disgust. As I was coming out of my mother's womb, I felt the earth-shaking. An emanating purr of the surroundings welcomed me in a gewgaw manner, and I slipped from the fanny with a soft thud and loud grunt. Mother described me the peculiarities afterward when I was a little grown-up. She said the humans knew they had a foaling mare in the truck, but that didn't persuade to stop the vehicle. The makeshift cabin jerked with pints of sunlight pouring in through the clefts of the stannous body. I opened my eyes- smelling a horrible odor- which was evidently coming out of the unwashed daub physique of my paternal and maternal family.   

How miserable! I heard the first few words from my uncle. Welcome to the world, lad.

We were used in circus amusements. My father, mother, two uncles- who had an unequal competition in deliberate worth, two aunties-not jealous but neither kind, their children- Woody, Pecky, and Gilly, two grandmothers- who loved us children very much, and some extended members- who paid no notice than just minding their own business- the conglomerate addiction of this large stable was not brought together in one day. First, it was only my grandparents. The others came gradually. Many of them born and raised here, protected by the dangers of the world outside. My parents, and Woody, Pecky, and Gilly's parents- were so accustomed to the circus life that often, I feared they were dead. Or at least, their mind was incomprehensible. 

As I grew up, I got familiar with the rules. There weren't many of them to remember properly actually- things were quite basic. Food was given two times- in the morning before we started the exercise and in the evening when the daylong namesake training got over. We mostly had addle liquid disguised as the cream of wheat or corn chaff. The ostlers bathed us once or twice a week. Nights came with stories. It was my grandmother Elbi, who introduced us to the wilderness. She said she'd seen the true horses- the ones who run in the roaring fields- stand tall like blustering cliffs- has the mane of silver and golden silk- their shoulders board like pillars- coronets shiny like mirrors- tails so magnificent that it bears every pride of being born as the most reliable creature. Men have always trusted their horses- grandma Elbi said. In wars, journeys, business and what not!

Where do they live? I asked her.

Beyond this cursed land. She said with a heavy heart.

Grandma Elbi and the rest of our grandparents lived in the forests. When humans caught them, they were very young. She often said we had their good looks. However, we were not so fortunate to see us in mirrors, but by the sight of Woody, Pecky, and Gilly, I assumed myself not to be astonishingly handsome after all.                   

One day rumors began floating to the tents. The whispers told that the circus master had decided to sell the animals. The business is not providing, and kids no more find attraction in watching dancing horses'. Everybody was anxious about what could happen next. There was a reason to be frightened. As I said before, we didn't know any life outside the circus. I got separated from my cousins- sold to run carriages. Later I found out that my tall figure had contributed me such luck. I didn't have any opportunity to say goodbye to my family. Before I even knew, I was shifted to my new workstation. A man named Salim became my new master.

There were no tricks in this new job. Just carry the metal bandwagon to give the riders monarchial flavor. Master gave the carriages on rent for a daily basis. It was a low paying job, and sometimes troublesome. Especially when savage brats pushed or hitched upon my tail- or my horn. Or middle age brutes smacked upon my thighs and shoulders without any precise reason. But Salim was a neutral man- he would give us barley now and then (wriggling with little worms) - washed us regularly (with black water but obviously no one wants to ride over some filthy horse) - and never whipped us needlessly. He was a lonely man, and we were his only companions.

There were three other horses in his possession. Rami, Bami, Paki, and I pulled the carriages. It appeared I was the only one coming from a different line of profession. The ancestors of Rami, Bami, and Paki had been pulling wagons for generations. And they were following patriarchial steps. Truthfully I liked here more than my life in the circus. The roads were like puzzles loaded with traffic and people- It was adventurous to walk amid wondrous malls, towns, stations. I saw my glimpse in a mirror once. Yellow teeth- narrow shoulder- legs malnourished- tail like a handful of dried silage. I was quickly ashamed of the spectacle.

Rami talked to me about many things. He told me he had seen an orchestra- a street puppeteer- maroon fireworks- and trees.

Trees! I almost shouted as I spoke. Where have you seen trees? I hadn't seen many trees in my life.

There's a road on the outskirts of the city. There are so many on the other side of the railing that sunlight hardly escapes the dark shadow.

Wow! Then it must be the forest, said I.

How so? Bami asked.

My grandmother told me that trees grow dense in the forest. That's it. We must go there.

Why?

To breath in the wilderness, live the life of a true horse.

There's no such thing silly. Come out of the fantasy.

Although dejected, but for the first time in my solemn existence, I felt the thrill of excitement in my bones. I dreamt about the wilderness.

The obscure shadow of the damp forest bed lured me like iron to the magnet. After a few months of careful surveying, I planned my so desired escape. Salim ties us individually at night- keeps us in a small yard with bamboo fences all around. The patrol system was not very well maintained because no horse ever ran away before. Crossing the boundary was easy, I just had to persuade Bami to help me with the knot. I wanted them to come over too, but none of them seemed interested in my wild ideas. Nevertheless, I knew the route and was determined to gain my freedom anyway. So when the night owls howled- I ran- I ran without a rope around my neck- I ran without the burden of carrying people- I ran toward my salvation.

I took the smell of the oozing leaves of the forest. The grandeur of the vastness was almost fanatical. It was difficult to see anything- but I didn't stop. I walked deeper- ambiguous- so no one can find me. I was incited and scared. The trees became so grave after a while that I had to stop. I figured I had come quite afar. I closed my eyes to take some rest and heard the various noise of animals from the forest. Most of them were unfamiliar to me- Only the crickets and owls and hounds were conventional. I waited for the dawn- patiently. I must find others of my kind, although remembering my features, I wasn't sure they would accept me as one of their own.

If they are actually how I imagine they would be, I said aloud. The sound of the wind was engaging. I thought what grandma Elbi would say about my adventure. She must have been very proud of me- happy to see my courage. And I wish my cousins were here, or at least Rami. Am I already feeling lonely? I asked myself. No, no, I'm just anxious. I saw something hovering over my head. Is that a bat or a bird? And with so many wanders finally came the morning. It took a few moments to adjust the surroundings with daylight- It was peaceful to see everything green- and fresh- I started walking as soon as everything was translucent- the first day of my freedom.

There was plenty to eat in the forest and plenty to drink. Nature was kind and beautiful. But one week passed and still, I didn't find any horse in the new neighborhood.

Maybe they don't live here, I exclaimed in despair. I rambled all day to find a suitable friend. Someone to talk with. Once or twice, I asked the birds for help- it appeared there were not many amicable inhabitants. A sparrow said to me one day to go to the north. She assumed there might be a group of the horse she had seen, but made me aware of a treacherous hound lurking in the path.

Be careful of his words, I'm even not sure you can find them, they could've moved, you know.

I thanked her and said I had to take the risk. Otherwise, without my den, I will die sooner or later.

I made no delay and set off on my journey to the north. This part of the forest was sparse- chaparral with spontaneous hawthorns and brooms- and occasional Delphiniums- an explicit view for a horse like me- who had spent his childhood among state, pollution, and people.

Hounds don't eat horses'. But they are furious creatures and create a meaningless fuss. I wasn't looking for any disturbance-I didn't know how to deal with residents of the wild. I reached a narrow channel of a ravine that necessarily marked the edges of the Northern and Southern parts of the forest. While I was about to step my hoofs onto the water, I heard a low growl. On the other side of the ravine, there stood a red dog that looked larger than average- and stronger than regular. His face was filled with a vicious aptitude and his movements reflected the cleverness of competence.

Are you unaccompanied? The hound observed and asked.

I am solitary this instant, I chose my words carefully.

Why so?

Ah! To savor the essence of loneliness.

How unpractical, he said mischievously. A horse seeking flavors of wisdom.

Is it forbidden? I tried to remain calm in my posture and look confident.

Not at all, no. But I was assuming perhaps you are not from here.

He was moving to and fro while talking.

Is he planning to attack me? I thought. He is just about my size, but stronger obviously. However, I have my hoofs, and he doesn't look like a fool to do something abruptly.

I am a traveler. I roam around places.

Really! Then you must be quite an adventurer.

Yes, of course.

So, where have you been lately?

In a dark Mooreland. Anything you touch there wears a sad hue. The swamps are muddy and dark green, plants are like olives, earth exhales toxic steam.

I don't think such a place exists- You just made that up, the hound smirked. 

That is something only an ignorant will say, I tried to demonstrate a double smirk (If anything like that is possible). Tell me hound, have you ever left this good old homeland of yours?

The hound looked confused. No, I haven't.

And yet you challenge my intellect, how foolish!

The pride of his face was wearing out.

You should see the hounds of the Mooreland. They survive by fighting with two-legged creatures and are far more sagacious than any I've met here.

Where is this Mooreland? He asked, stubbornly. 

I pointed out behind me- far beyond this forest- if you intend to go there, I warn you- You'll need great courage.

The hound let out a trembling roar. He passed the ravine in a blink and ran to the direction I came from.

I almost felt numb with the experience. Did I actually manage to distract him?

I am running through a roaring field- the setting sun has cast my shadow- my manes are restless- my tail like wads of mustard.

I am feeling independent now. It's the feeling I was looking for- repletion, perfection- I exist- as wild as I can ever be.  

I can see others at a distance.

Hey, screamed I- I have come!