- Youth in pleasent surroundings. Freedom from troubles.
- Training for races. Best of food. Splendid treatment.
- Accident. Loss of speed. Sold to slavery.
- General moral on the fortunes in life.
I was born in a pleasant state of Bahawalpur, in the stables of a Nawab who was noted for his interest in horses. Over forty animals lived in those stables, and they came from some of the best horse families of Pakistan, England, and Australia. My mother, indeed, said that her own grandmother had been very famous in Arabia. When I was born, they gave me the splendid name of “Arab Ruler”. Do I look like a ruler now? In those days, I was fed on the best of food, carefully brushed and rubbed by a sais, and looked after as if I were indeed a ruler.
When I was eighteen months old, I was given more exercise. There was a level maidan, and sometimes I was allowed to gallop for some distance round it, with my own sais on my back. I heard my master say, when I finished one day. “He’ll be a real champion some day”. I felt very proud to hear this. Then I was allowed to have raced against some of the other horse’s but I was always able to beat them. In the long run, I was taken to a race meeting, and marched out on to the track with about twenty other horses, all their’ riders being dressed in splendid colors. My master’s colours were red and white, there we thousands of people present, all shouting in excitement, when this race started. I never felt so excited, for they were all very fast horses. But I won, and, when I was led back to the stable, a man came and offered my master twenty thousand rupees for me. But he refused.
Many races I won after this, but one day there was a serious accident. Another forced me against the rails, and we both fell. When we arose, I was lame. I was nursed well for weeks, but then the veterinary surgeon said that I would never be able to race again. So my master gave me away to a friend who promised to keep me for breeding only.
He did this for a time, and life was comfortable enough. But when I became too old, he sold me to this tonga driver. He is quite a good man and does not treat me badly, except that sometimes he takes too many passengers into his tonga. But I can never forget that my name is “Arab Ruler”, though I think I am now the only who remembers it. Such is life, and I am philosophic about it.