6 years ago, in my 1st year of study, I joined Gadjah Mada University’s equestrian club. Please don’t imagine a fancy horse-riding club with wide practice yard and big, shiny horses. We had to share our stalls, club “office”, and practice yard with a farmer who had two cows, one water-bull, a flock of ducks and chickens, several goats, and a dog already. We only had two horses back then; Iwe, a small white local horse, and Lido, a brown ex-racing horse which has swollen back-left leg. One of my senior’s friend then kindly brought his horse from Nusa Tenggara Timur, a female Sumbawan horse named Ayu Kumala. Among those three, it was Iwe which often brought us some troubles. He was 15 years old, but he acted like a 5 year old human kid. He was stubborn, he liked to runaway, he used to stomp on someone’s foot when he was in bad mood, and he had this habit to roll-over on the ground when we took him out of his warm stall.
One day, when we took him out, he suddenly pulled himself out of our grasps. And before we caught him, he quickly ran, passing the yard, through a line of trees, into the village. Two of my senior hurriedly started their motorcycles, and we chased him together. That damned horse seemed very relaxed, flailing his tail in front of our faces, trotting indifferently while children and villagers laughing and pointing at him. We didn’t dare to speed up because it made him ran faster.
Our chasing ended when Iwe suddenly turned left and entered an empty field. If we chased him further, he would likely run onto the road, which was right next to the field. My senior finally said, “okay, just leave him. We can’t go after him further. If he hungry, he will be back.”
I watched him for a moment. I watched him when he lazily grassing, occasionally lifted his head. Strangely, to me, he looked very graceful and proud, with his head raised high, as if he said “I’m a free being. No one can catch me when I want to run between the trees and the wind. Not even human with their ridiculous motorcycles.” I guess that was his small effort of rebel to us, human who made him into a mere fun-object or sport accessory with some bridles and reins. And eventhough he had to came back to us when he was hungry—because he got so used with food we usually gave to him—he had earned his own freedom for a moment. He showed his level, with a price he willingly accepted (hunger).
How many people in this nowaday world, especially in the city, who will envy that damned horse’s spirit ? I know I do.
One day, when we took him out, he suddenly pulled himself out of our grasps. And before we caught him, he quickly ran, passing the yard, through a line of trees, into the village. Two of my senior hurriedly started their motorcycles, and we chased him together. That damned horse seemed very relaxed, flailing his tail in front of our faces, trotting indifferently while children and villagers laughing and pointing at him. We didn’t dare to speed up because it made him ran faster.
Our chasing ended when Iwe suddenly turned left and entered an empty field. If we chased him further, he would likely run onto the road, which was right next to the field. My senior finally said, “okay, just leave him. We can’t go after him further. If he hungry, he will be back.”
I watched him for a moment. I watched him when he lazily grassing, occasionally lifted his head. Strangely, to me, he looked very graceful and proud, with his head raised high, as if he said “I’m a free being. No one can catch me when I want to run between the trees and the wind. Not even human with their ridiculous motorcycles.” I guess that was his small effort of rebel to us, human who made him into a mere fun-object or sport accessory with some bridles and reins. And eventhough he had to came back to us when he was hungry—because he got so used with food we usually gave to him—he had earned his own freedom for a moment. He showed his level, with a price he willingly accepted (hunger).
How many people in this nowaday world, especially in the city, who will envy that damned horse’s spirit ? I know I do.
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