N blog IconGinny in Kurinji Flowers is not a keen horsewoman, but life on a tea plantation in the 1930s means having a horse is essential. Ginny’s is Natana.

Tony found a horse for me, a little bay mare. I wanted her to have an Indian name. To his bemusement I christened her “Naṭaṉa”, which Hector told me was the Tamil word for “dancer”. I took advantage of the dawn wakeup call and often rode out on Naṭaṉa before breakfast. The tea gardens were their most beautiful in the early morning, shrouded in mists with low clouds over the mountains and a wonderful limpid light that made them seem almost mystical. My solitary rides introduced me to another side of India, away from the bustle of the Muddy market or the narrow snobbery of the British club. When I rode into villages, children—usually with an entourage of scabby dogs, would run out and follow me, reaching their little hands to stroke my horse. I always carried a bag with boiled sweets to give them, and their happy smiles and giggles as they ran alongside lifted my spirits.
(From Kurinji Flowers)

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