Ashish Limaye’s story is not about an institution or a system — it is about a rider. A boy who grew up in Pune, a city with a deep and historic horse culture shaped by racing, cavalry traditions, and families like the Poonawallas, but who still had to carve his own path in a sport with limited structure.
At 11 years old, Ashish began formal training under the late Colonel G.M. Khan, an Arjuna Award–winning equestrian and one of India’s most respected horsemen. Training under an army man came with no frills and no excuses.
“Whatever happens, get the job done. Stop crying,” Ashish recalls — a lesson that became the backbone of his riding and, later, his resilience.
Under Colonel Khan, Ashish built a rock-solid foundation in show jumping, learning discipline before glory. The city he trained in mattered less than the standards he was held to.
By his early teens, Ashish was already representing India internationally in the children’s show-jumping category, competing abroad three times before most riders his age had even left national circuits.
And then, against expectation — not remarkably, but deliberately — he stepped away from the sport.
A Childhood Prodigy Who Walked Away — Temporarily
Through his teenage years, Ashish competed internationally, carrying Indian colours before fully grasping the weight of that responsibility. But when college approached, reality intervened.
Equestrian sport in India is expensive, uncertain, and unforgiving. Ashish believed he needed a “real career.” He enrolled in engineering, focused on academics, and quit riding entirely.
By his third year, the truth became unavoidable: riding wasn’t a phase. It was the only thing that felt honest.
When he told his parents, his father gave him a single condition:
“Finish engineering. Then do whatever you want.”
Ashish kept his word.
He completed his degree — and once it ended, so did his detour away from horses.
The UK, the Hard Reset, and Lessons Europe Forces You to Learn
In 2017, Ashish moved to the UK as a working student at a professional show-jumping yard. What awaited him was not prestige, but process.
In Europe, riders do not outsource responsibility:
You clean your own stables.
You feed your own horses.
You spend hours observing them — until you can read their mood from their eyes.
“You don’t just ride the horse,” Ashish says. “You live with it.”
Training alongside riders raised in generational equestrian systems was humbling. Not because he wasn’t good enough — but because he realised how much more there always is to learn.
“There’s no rider who has figured everything out,” he says. “Maybe except **Michael Jung.”
Jung, a German legend, is widely regarded as the greatest eventer of all time, a multiple Olympic and World Champion who has redefined consistency and excellence in the sport.
After returning briefly to India and continuing to train, Ashish’s journey took another turn when the Embassy Group, a Bengaluru-based real estate conglomerate known for backing Indian athletes, stepped in to support his career. Their sponsorship enabled advanced training and international exposure, including a base in Germany, where Ashish continues to train today.
The Unlikeliest Horse, the Unshakeable Bond
Every great equestrian story has one unlikely partnership. For Ashish, it is Willy Be Dun.
The timing could not have been worse. Ashish had lost his sponsorship, his primary competition horse had fallen ill, and he was preparing to return to India. Financially and emotionally, he was at a breaking point.
Then Willy appeared — not at a trial, not at a stable, but on a video.
Ashish had never sat on him. The horse had no big results, no elite price tag. It was Ashish’s wife who noticed something quietly compelling in the footage. Together, they took a gamble.
“It wasn’t a horse that everyone wanted,” Ashish admits. “But he wanted to try for us.”
That decision would change everything.

