Cricket..You really don’t care? #Crotchgate

Its been called #Sandpapergate but I’d coin it #crotchgate. We all hear and get preached on “Walking the Talk”. For the limited few that are cricket aficionados you will appreciate of what I am implying here. Nonetheless, for those who have derived themselves the pleasures of the sport, cricket, I will deign to explain the role the 5.5 ounces of the red leather ball plays. Its delivered at over 90-100 mph from a distance of 22 yards at the batter. So the seam of the ball plays a huge role in how the ball will swing and the shine and roughness of the ball determines the swing and what the batter can expect. Except that no one and no one is allowed to alter the surface of the ball . So the Aussies, (I love the Aussies and have huge admiration for their way of living) were caught red handed on the cricket field in Capetown, South Africa trying to use sandpaper to rough up a side of the ball. The player in question was using sandpaper to rough up one side of the ball and then was caught surreptitiously trying to drop the “weapon” into his crotch. That is a blatant act of cheating, nothing less.

Walking the Talk comes into play because some of these Aussies have been acting high and mighty about upholding the spirit of the game and after having been caught with their pants down it begs the question..Why whine, why preach when you cannot walk it?

This is not too different for me when people cheat on their time cards, people trying to hide shady expenses; you’re bringing your own character into disrepute but then you represent someone and as it happens with #crotchgate, your country.

No condoning no justifications for cheating or stealing! Fight hard fight fair and then gloat!

PS- I feel sorry for my Aussie mates who I bet are gutted!


Disaster 10.0- The art of book writing- Do not read

Disclaimer- Every bit of this piece is intentional, well thought out and its from from the same publishing house that gave you “The Road East” . The author would like to apologize unreservedly if this piece causes you acid reflux, spasms, joint pains, migraine or eye twitching; these are only the side effects. Full reading will make you totally nauseous.

Think of all major disasters in your lifetime- Stop hard, think and think again. Then multiply that by 10 and what you get as a product is the result of my first book; Unmitigated disaster is a generous euphemism for it. So you read a few Grishams, a few Sheldons and you think its as easy as candy. And you thought you’d be gaping like an idiot at your name in the NY bestsellers’ list on a Times Square screen. Really!

A wise old man once told me – “Believe in yourself, you know son, you can write , you should write a book”. Well an old man, a wizard, a strange Miyagi like man I met on the beaten path? Not really. He is a figment of my silly imagination I just made up a few seconds ago to lend some gravitas to an otherwise pedestrian piece. So I am thinking. This is easy,  if Shobha De can write, if Jackie Collins can write (For those who haven’t heard about Jackie, her style is as classical as “Where’s Waldo?), then all those hundreds of writers who occupy the echelons of the local library, what’s the big deal.


So on a quiet weekend, full of inspiration, dreamy eyes and grinning like a complete jackass, I am flying high ready to embark upon my first book. 80,000 words later a classic piece of trash is ready to be disposed, ready to be let loose on unsuspecting phantom readers. No research (who needs research? I know enough), no editing (Why flounder precious $$ on editing, I know my grammar and punctuations well, thank you!) and before you say pop, the book’s out. Well out because it is out not adorning the shelves of WH Smith or Barnes & Noble but out in the garbage pile. As an author I remember having received a few complimentary copies, so I decided I had to put them to good use and perhaps I ‘ll find some gullible souls. So I decided to use a few copies as props for my Ikea coffee table, I gave away a couple of copies to unsuspecting trick or treaters the rest I buried in the backyard, not mine but my neighbors’ ! You think I’d want that associated with me?

In case you want to to know more about that catastrophe, all you do is walk in a park where people walk their dogs. See that bag they’re carrying? Well….

Dare to venture, dare to dream and do it all that looks good, but here are some tips-

1- Do not believe in what your parents think of you. Yes, they exaggerate

2- You are not as talented you think you are. You are fairly ordinary

3- Just because you have a degree , do not assume you are smart. I know people who have no degrees way smarter than me and who’d run circles around me

4- The guy or the girl on screen makes it look easy. That’s it. Just because they can do it doesn’t mean you can too.

5- Ever tried sitting on the couch watching TV? I tried, its easy and that’s something you should be able to do it. (See, I am not always glass empty !)

A herd of trouble- Here come the tourists!

This is work of non-fiction. Resemblance to anyone living is intentional. No animals were harmed during the writing of this piece , they were all let loose.

A herd of wildebeest , a flock of sheep – And who do you reckon resemble these creatures representing the world’s most intelligent creature (kinda, sorta, rumored) homo sapiens?

Think Think..cannot be that hard and surely you may have been part of this motley group that mindlessly follows the other without any semblance of intelligence, expensive cameras slung around their necks, excitedly whispering in a language that is alien to all but themselves, eagerly pointing fingers to their offsprings, eyes wide open, mouths animated and limbs moving in a synchronous fashion. And let me provide some more hints! They do not pay much regard to their ambience, they do not worry too much about the weird things that hang in the air which others call traffic lights and the only only thing that may perhaps change is what they’d wear depending on the clime. TOURISTS! That’s right ..You finally get it..

And if you thought I was referring to a certain tribe in eastern Botswana or the central Amazon, I may have said like a quiz master-  “Not quite, close but I’ll give you the points”

They rush through things, they do what lesser humans can hardly dare achieve, run through Europe in just over a week, mock the seals in Monterrey, blow raspberries at the White rhino, pile on to Roman ruins taunting Nero and their ilk, moon the Statue of Liberty, finger on the pyramids of Giza and “holding” the Tower in Pisa. Oh yes, it is not an exaggeration but tell me if you haven’t seen this obnoxious behavior or even having been of this herd. It may be endearing sometimes but I am also told by certain medical experts that such sights may act as emetics (a substance that may cause involuntary retching), stampedes (a fairly common occurrence at the Niagara Falls, NY or the Taj Mahal, India or the Jungfrau, Switzerland.



So kind folks, keep away when you spy these marauding creatures approaching you in peak summer and run as fast you can in the opposite direction. Woe betide anyone if you’d dare stand in their way  (seen the rampaging bulls in Pampalona?) and take your self to a happy place. There is nothing you can do, but stand back and admire their tenacity and perhaps secretly hoping you were born in their party of the world.

Said a leader of a tourist group (he wished to remain unanonymous)- Cameras, handycams, smart phones, selfies, selfie-sticks- We have it all. Bring it on Evil Knieval we dare you, we are unstoppable and we have basically taken over humanity and if its summer do not even attempt to get the term “challenge” in your thoughts!

Happy hunting all!


Tastes and sights- Washington DC

Disclaimer- Opinions expressed below are solely mine, none of the places are fictional and resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely intentional. For most part, no mammals were harmed but cannot claim the same for birds.

Its been a while since I actually sat down to pen down something meaningful. Having been overcome by distractions like travelogue-ing, Project management and self inflicted racism, I figured a wind swept Sunday morning in suburban Maryland was a decent indicator.

What and where all have I been out chasing international cuisines?

1- Asia Nine – This place at Crown, Gaithersburg, a real find. Excellent service, non-existent wait times with some superlative service. The Eggplant Gai Sub is worth dying for ! This is where I would go to to get a sumptuous Asian meal without the hassles of travel or commute

Sr Lucia Trip Apr 2012 002

2- Rasika, Penn Quarter- A fancy top of the line Indian. Pricy but unlike most neighborhood Indian curry houses, the selection is different, not too westernized and highly palatable. A place to take your out-of-country Indian friends and non Indian colleagues. A great dining experience by all standards.

3- &Pizza, Gaithersburg- A fad, not all that novel inspite of what they claim. And one thing you never want to do- Order online. They find ways to screw it your order and you end up with toppings you detest and not getting the toppings you were craving after a 5 miles run

4- Food carts, 13th & F, NW DC- Watch where you stop. Certainly not all of them are what they advertise. Especially the kabobs, shawarmas or Mediterranean , they can get as soggy as sponges left out in a drizzle. The Indonesian cart is something though  and it seems they actually make a good meal of it. And Gourmet is a term that may be used liberally so its more mediocre than deletable.

Must-do’s – Nasi Goreng, Indonesian, Philli cheese steaks, Asian veggie fried rice

Stay away from – Fried chickens, Masala foods, Shawarmas, kabobs

The good news is nothing will cost you more than $10 so if you hit the motherlode, you’re in for a treat

5- Sweetgreen- Anywhere in DC. Well I happen to be an old fashioned warm/hot food connoisseur. Cold foods just don’t cut  it for me, I don’t even consider a salad as lunch. God knows, I have tried several times but just cannot seem to say anything positive about this place. If you’re out meeting me for lunch, you can bet on me not taking you there! Perhaps I am just not “cool” enough for this place.

6- Choolah BBQ, Sterling, Northern VA- After being told it was the Indian Choptle, I did venture out and savored the offerings. Not disappointing, in fact it was rather refreshing for a change. Certainly not a place I’d frequent unless I had a craving for Sodium overload. Worth paying a visit but only if you’re in the neighborhood!

Now on to trails for a good evening’s run- For rookies like me!

1- A good 4 mile loop around Muddy Branch- Lake Winds Way onto Travilah is as good as it gets especially if you can make it before dark and get to take in the visual delights of the fall foliage

Great Falls

2- Seneca State Creek park- A hidden treasure and I only wish I had discovered it sooner. Rolling hills, tranquil ambience and a trail that makes you want more

PS- As I write I am clutching my left calf in pain since I underestimated the power of warm ups and cool downs.

D-I-Y- A four letter word

So what’s this DIY again? Seems as mythical to me as the Unicorn, Santa Claus or tax cuts. Did you grow up in India? Well, if you didn’t you probably have no clue what I am talking about do you?

I actually grew up in a quaint little town called Bhopal; Bhopal known world over for all the wrong reasons- The 1984 Union Carbide gas leak accident that left thousands dead. It used to be an erstwhile Kingdom and it was actually one of the most fun places to be in. I lived in a huge converted palace with god knows how many relatives. So big that it gave me plenty of secret alleys to hide in and it took me 6 months to realize who my brother was. That’s the thing about joint families, no one bothers and you basically get away with anything.

And then of course , being India, everything was done by someone else. D-I-Y? Well the only DIY we did was to pick up the phone ourselves and ask for someone to come over to fix a broken piece of furniture or wash the vehicles. And before anyone gets any ideas, we eventually moved out of that gigantic joint family and spent the rest of my formative years in a 200 sq feet tenement. So of course the only vehicles we saw were the ones driven by others and owned by the others. And how about laying floors, fixing a broken fence or assemble a bed? Now that is really pushing it because as simple as it sounds to you, its still rocket science to me. It just simply does not happen in India. We never got to do do anything ourselves. Someone else was always called upon!

So imagine the shock of it all when I started living in America. So the guy at IKEA hands me a compact box and says that’s my bed. If jumping out of one’s skin is possible, it actually happened to me then. So I am supposed to put this together? I am supposed to look at that sketch of that Apollo 13 and use the screws, nuts and bolts and assemble a bed? Sure enough being hard up for money, I attempted it. And of course after a sweaty, on-the-knees session on the bedroom floor, I thought it was mission accomplished. Then my eyes go and I see 21 screws quietly ensconced in a corner. May be the Swedes were generous and gave me that extra helping of screws? You can run your mind on what the bed looked like? Well it wasn’t exactly a square. If I call it pathetic it would be highly unfair since that is a superlative for the piece of wood that stood on three and half legs!Bad Assembly

And then there was this instance when I had to fix a couple of floor boards which of course involved some rather mule like adamant adhesive. After having smartly spread that adhesive on the floor board, somehow in a fit of extreme enthusiasm I ended up kneeling down promptly on the part where the adhesive was generously spread.So here I am in this position, stuck to the floor and by myself in my kitchen. I managed to slither and reach for my phone while still having my knees stuck to the floor. Voice recognition or Siri doesn’t recognize an Indian accent if you knew that. So 911 and here comes the guy a few minutes later and guess what he does? He laughs until he cries! He couldn’t stop and for him it was the most ludicrous thing he’s ever seen. And being at the receiving end, it was very unfunny to me. I am sure he must have thought- What’s Apu doing on the floor? Isn’t he supposed to be running the cash register at  7-11?

Since then I have vowed not to get too adventurous with DIY.  I will skip a meal a day, I will walk to work, I’ll try to live off one kidney so I can afford to pay those handymen that have absolutely no compunctions about charging me $50 for a 15 minutes check in. Of course if not for me, their families will die of starvation and I’d be accused of stealing those American jobs!

So much for D-I-Y! It is truly a four letter word!

A-Shock! 8.2…

A Shock!

That got your attention, right? That’s just one of the ways I’ve been called! My parents, from a modest middle class family did their due diligence and named me “Ashok”..An Indian name as common as say “John” or “Mohammad” or “Chang”! While they thought they had a special gifted child, I was one of 500 million, so as special as they get!

Things only get better from here..I show up at the engineering school and turns out we have an “Ashok” as the mess boy, an “Ashok” as the neighborhood cobbler and the janitor as “Ashok”. While I hold every trade in high esteem you’d have to in India in the late 70’s/mid 80’s in India to be able to appreciate what these mean. If you didn’t become an engineer or a Doctor, you were an abysmal failure, a loser who would struggle to meet ends meet (including aspiring gymnasts if you get my drift)

So here I am the “special” child getting out to making a career outside of India and then “Ashok” gets butchered, mutilated and any form of disembowelment possible. My parents in all their infinite wisdom thought “Ashok” was easily palatable but wait ! They named me during the times, when Russia used to be Soviet Union, we loved “Different Strokes”, Bjorn used to win Wimbledons and it was actually fashionable to be seen in Momma jeans! And then reality strikes- I get called in as many names possible!



“A-shock” like I am an after tremor, “A-shook” like I am the guy who shakes in the past with a double “O”, then perhaps the more innovative “A- shoock”. I mean I just cannot win!  I have to borrow Mr McEnroe to say – “You cannot be serious”!!

After all of 20 years in America, I wonder, why I never considered something more pronounceable to the Western tongue- Ash, Ashk or may be a just a KO. Then I see my fellow “brownies” with names like Steve (short for Srinivasan), Chuck (short for Chakravarthy), Aaron, really? (short for Arun) , Vince (short for Vinod).. Now at almost 50, I start to contemplate why I didn’t change my name. It would have been brutal, it would been unfair and it would be downright stupid.

Hey if you cannot pronounce me correctly, do not feel offended if I refer to you as “Jos” (instead of Ho-say) or “Tat-Jana” (instead of Ta-Yaana) or refer to Grosvenor as “Grows-Wennor” or  “Illionoi” as Illi-noise”. Fair trade right?

So when I hear the cliché “What’s in a name” I cannot agree more. My friends and colleagues know me as the brown knucklehead who never feels any compunctions or for that matter offense . The A-SHOCKS shall continue!


PS- Everytime I wrote “Ashok” spell check suggests something that will be deemed highly inappropriate for this site. I presume this site is rated “G”

The Indian stereotype- We do it to ourselves!

This is work of non-fiction. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely intentional

This is work of non-fiction. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely intentional and no animals were harmed during the writing

And just when I thought stereotypes were going extinct, there it comes back! Some races are targetted by others for most part and with the newly arrived Indians they tend to raise their middle finger to others and proclaim-How dare others stereotype us! We are gonna stereotype ourselves and before you spell Naan, I am going to do it to myself! The saga continues!

And I can vouch for this. I am not someone who had to do any kind of massive research to make this observation. An FOB (Fresh Off Boat) immigrant myself from the land of snakes and elephants (no, not the African grasslands) from almost 20 years ago, I have seen, I have observed, I have cringed and I have been known to utter the occasional four letter word (that has nothing to do with human anatomy or any of your close relatives)


The other day I am on the treadmill running at just under 5 mph, this Indian sub-continental gentleman (Could be Indian, Pakistani or Bangladesi) walking on the adjacent treadmill starts to give me the famous stare  and keeps that on and doesn’t relent (Yes staring is a favorite pastime for Indians). Now we all have seen how Indians love walking, ambling, walking briskly but running?  Take a peek as you drive along suburban Washington DC and you can see quite a few. So if you run you are going to stared at by your fellow brownies. Accept that.

If you are reading this and you are not of Indian origin and have visited India, you know what I am talking about. You must have been stared to with rigour and felt 500,000 pairs of eyes digging you in the back and more if you happen to be female.

The H-1

So who are those H-1 Indians? Aspiring yuppies from certain parts of India that fly in armed with an IT degree, work as contractors and then absolutely refuse to assimilate with the mainstream. They tend to congregate, co-habit and collude with each other. You’d see them most likely drive a Toyota , Honda or other Asian cars (High resale value!!) and then you have the upper echelons that may have the Lexus or Merc. All said and done, they have got to be in the IT sector. Anyone in any other business may be considered a pariah I suspect!


Apparently they seem to have some kind of dress code – A short sleeved or full sleeved striped polo top, “sneakers” and tube socks and that is something you cannot miss. Don’t believe me? Take a walk in any middle class northern VA community and you will not miss any sightings!


A few weekends back, I was approached by this gentleman in a striped polo at a party and it too him all of 120 seconds to ask me if I was in IT. When I replied in the negative and told him I was in EPC Project Management, he didn’t give up. He followed me and promptly asked me again- Ok, EPC Project Management, but is that in IT? I had nothing to offer but to blabber gibberish and pour his drink over my head. I only hope for his sake and mine, we do not run into each other again.

The PJ’s-

And have you seen some women walking around into the friendly neighborhood grocery store, with utter disdain for norms, clad in nothing but fluffy flip flops, night PJ’s and looking like they just rolled out of bed and have taken the term “casual” to new depths? Well, hate to say it and if you happen to bump into them, you will see they are the feminine version of their H-1 spouses.

Call center-

And aren’t those just a way of life now? I was on the phone last week with a customer service associate “Steve” (We don’t really have Steves in India) from some one who was trying to sell me time shares for a holiday resort (Shame on me for having picked up the phone!). He starts with this rather nasal north eastern American accent and as he starts to realize my accent is fairly Indian, his accent I kid you not, is starting to transform. From the New Jersey accent to a regular IT guy from Hyderabad. I was on the floor, phone hanging on to my ear, banging my feet on the floor, rolling in laughter. Now I did not want to put the phone down. This guy, who originally introduced himself as “Steve” finally broke down and his name was Sudarshan. I paid him a rich compliment and hung up with an assurance of “Let me think it over”. So when you think of messing with your Indian colleague with the “Is the call center guy your cousin” , chances are, there truly a cousin of everyone of us that works in a call center.

And now for all you ignoramuses- We do have elephants in India, but no, we do not ride them to work. We do not have HOV lanes for people sharing an elephant and they are not part of the growing Uber population.