My first set of naked adventures ended with that eventful night. I couldn't sleep on the roof the next night because it rained. Which was just as well. Given how rapidly I had progressed and how close I had come to getting caught - twice, I might have ended up doing something really foolish. The old ladies left and I went back to sleeping on the divan in the living room. And my life went back to regularly scheduled programming.
The rest of the summer went by pretty uneventfully, although the Bedis and Mr. Mehta must have wondered why I was blushing so much the next time I met each of them. For the first few days after the adventures, I kept waiting for the hammer to fall. I was convinced that some neighbor must have seen me gamboling about in the nude and they'd come and tell my parents about it sooner rather than later. But days turned to weeks and nothing happened. I had gotten away with it.
My 12th results came back. And they were really good. I got into a reputed engineering college in the suburbs of Bombay. I told myself this was a good thing apart from the obvious academic reasons, getting to live in a real city, and getting some time away from my controlling parents. Bombay is a city that never sleeps. It is crowded. It is loud. Living in the city in general and the college hostels in particular, I would have no opportunities to indulge in my bizarre and potentially life-destroying addiction.
As you can guess, once the exhilaration of what I had done wore off, the guilt and horror at how much I had come to close to getting caught set in. I started berating myself for having those tendencies. Never again, I promised myself.
But never say never. It happened again. This time, it was both more reckless and less reckless. More reckless because it was in a completely new and strange location. Less reckless because I didn't do too much.
In July I started engineering college. The load of studies and the renewed need for socialization and making new friends didn't leave me time for thinking about my hobby. I shared the hostel room with 2 other girls so that pretty much ended my night time masturbation. I could only do it when taking a bath, and that too not everyday, because there was always someone waiting to use the common bathrooms after me.
College in India is not the same free social environment it is in the West. At least it wasn't in the 90s. Although I was away from my parents, the rules of our hostel were very strict. Absolutely no boys were allowed entry. We had to be back in our rooms by 9 PM. If we wanted to stay out, we had to get special permission from the warden who gave us the third degree about what we were planning to do. Some girls did sneak out to meet their boyfriends or spend time with other friends. After all, even Alcatraz was broken out of once. But I was never very bold or rebellious in that sense.
I did get some attention from some boys in my college, but I was still mentally under my parents' moral code. No boys! So I just made friends with boys. And if someone started getting a little too involved, kept my distance and in a couple of occasions explicitly rejected them.
In October, the trekking club in our college organized a two-day trek. It was to one of the old Maratha forts near Lonavala. A relatively obscure one that the crowds usually didn't go to. It was advertised as a very challenging trek that would involve some steep climbs. We would be guided by two professors who were experienced trekkers That sounded like a challenge I could take on without destroying my life. So I signed up. And after a long argument with my parents over the phone, managed to get their permission to go.
It was a decent sized group - 22 boys and 5 girls including me, and of course the two professors. Early morning one Saturday, we took a state transport bus to the nearest stop. Hiked 6 kilometers from there to the base of the fort. And shortly after lunch, started making the climb. The climb isn't relevant here, so I'll skip over it. Suffice it to say that we made it to the top. Explored the few remaining ruins of ramparts and other fortifications. And then settled around a campfire.
Outdoorsy stuff in India is pretty basic in terms of equipment and facilities, and it was even more so back in the 90s when the economy had only just begun to take off. We couldn't afford tents or sleeping bags. We slept under the open starry sky and we slept on thick sheets and blankets. And of course, there were no toilets or portapotties at these locations. The trek leaders designated one far off area for the guys, another far off area for the girls, and that was that.
After spending several hours singing around the campfire, roasting yams and coconuts, and telling some pretty outlandish horror stories, we called an end to the proceedings shortly after midnight. before sleeping, the professors in charge sternly told us to adhere to certain rules. There was to be no hanky panky between the guys and the girls. We were to stay away from the steep edges at all costs. And when going to the designated bathroom area, always go in pairs. They repeated these multiple times. You absolutely HAD TO go in pairs even if one person didn't need to go. If someone tripped or slipped or hurt themselves or got bitten by a snake, their companion could rouse the rest of the camp for help.
I woke up a couple of hours later needing to pee real bad. Everyone else was fast asleep. I poked the girl sleeping next to me.
"Shreya, Shreya, wake up, I have to go to the bathroom."
"Mmm..ffmmmmmhhmmm..."
"Please wake up and come with me."
"Nnnnnnnnnnn."
The girl refused to wake up. I tried another girl.
