From the memoir: Industrialist Subroto Bagchi examines India’s attitude towards blue-collar jobs

Where El Camino Real, “The Royal Road” in Spanish, crosses Lawrence Expressway in Santa Clara, California, there used to be an $18 a night, EZ-8 Motel. Back in 1990, the Indian economy was at the brink, the country had very little foreign exchange and for people like me who used to travel to the Silicon Valley to solicit software projects, EZ-8 was a godsend. Back then, I did not know the difference between a motel and a hotel. A motel is a cheap place for a motorist to just spend a night along the highway before moving on the next morning. You got a no-frills room with a clean toilet, free coffee at the reception and nothing else. But motels are always near eateries, sometimes the typical American “diner” where you could get a sumptuous breakfast that held you up until dinner.

During my maiden stay there, I found the bathroom’s faucet leaking, with water all over the floor. I called the front desk and a man told me not to worry, someone will be up there soon. In a few minutes, the doorbell rang and as I opened the door, I saw this big man, better clothed and perhaps even better...

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