The Doon School
In the early fifties Jack took us on a mid-term to Shivpuri, then a quiet little sandy spot on the river Ganges. Tents were our night cover and jungly murgas and peacocks came right beside us at dawn. And an occasional leopard could be spotted glaring from the hill slopes if we were lucky.
One early morning rule of Gibby was a bath in the Ganges. The water was cold. And we got in and out of the river as fast as we could. This quick momentary dip wasn’t enough as Gibby said we were not cleaning our private parts.
A second dip in our swimming costumes pulled out from the front to allow a handful of water to trickle in. But this too was not quite right and when we repeated it the next morning, Jack knew it won’t do.
In no time flat Jack took off his clothes and went to the river stark naked where he rubbed and scrubbed and soaped himself. Shy young lads as we were, we were made to follow suit and have a proper bath.
While returning to the tents to change into our shorts, we heard choked guffaws of feminine laughter from the hills in front of us. A group of village ladies were shyly watching the scene and laughting and enjoying what they saw.
Loud and clear came Jack’s voice: "Haven’t these women ever seen an Englishman’s pink ass before?" as he too walked into the tent to put on his shorts.