Avy
Spot on (apart from the communism thing).
I used to cycle to the station, little khadi jhola over shoulder, one college mate getting a lift (usually on the back, though - I could never get used to the splay-kneed style of those who took passengers on the cross-bar), and then stuck in a sweaty train to college, kolhapuri-d feet all stepped on by the time we got there, kurta (from khadi gram udyog, or khadi bhandar as we called it) suitably rumpled. Thence to 'bunk' all lectures and sit downstairs in the alcoves mourning the futility of existence (whilst claiming to be suffering from unrequited passion for five women at the same time). Quarter bottles of Old Monk rum (still, IMO, the best spirituous liquor in the world - relative and friends have standing instructions to bring bottles over when they visit). Beedis when there wasn't enough money for cigarettes. All this in, as you suggest, the early to mid '80s. My sister, on the other hand, went to the fashionable St Xavier's college, and has never used a jhola in her life - brand names only, dah-ling.
Even today, on the rare occasions when I visit Bombay, nearly the first stop (after my parents' place) is khadi bhandar, for a mass shop of about 8 kurtas, a pair of kolhaps, some aligarhis and (the last time I was there) some lovely raw silk waistcoats. I still believe there's no more comfortable way to dress in India.
Oh my word the nostalgia...
cheer
the sunshine (I'm not really that old) warrior
