Skip to main content

How much investment have you raised for your Startup ??"

 It is a matter of vexation that the word Startup these days is associated solely with raising money and not what that concern is trying to do and which problem statement it is trying to solve. It was during a recent expo where I participated, that I had an otherwise well-meaning young chap with his own budding enterprise, constantly asking me the same question in one way or another "Heh, heh, so how much investment have you been able to raise??"


Finally fed up, I made him sit down and told him," Zero"! But I have had over 20 outright rejections to my pitches( I stopped counting after 20) as my work of building safe, sustainable and affordable riverboats and nautical equipment is seen as very limited in size and scalability. I was also told that I was too old to start a Startup, was mocked for not having a formal technical education, that my designs were pinched from the internet, that I lacked a team, traction and that it is a matter of doubt whether my perennially flood-prone State of Assam in NE India which is also crisscrossed by the Brahmaputra and other large rivers has any requirements of boats at all.

That the tiny grants I clawed out from here and there, the modest amount I managed to scrounge as a soft loan along with all my savings were poured into work, prototyping technology trials and development. That I worked 7 days a week, no longer have a family or personal life, live on a hand to mouth budget, got grievously injured with power tools multiple times, suffered from nerve damage and occasional temporary partial blindness from overworking with computer screens and everything that he saw on the display table was either designed, drafted, 3-printed, cast machined and welded either by me or in my presence. That I researched designed, drafted, and drew the CAD diagrams and 3d renderings by myself, sit with propeller design and NavCad software and the same with all the patents I filled. I interact with experts worldwide and do approach professionals like Naval architects and mechanical engineers at times for verifying my work, but honestly, find them unsure, ignorant or incompetent most of the time.

And yes, I stopped participating in most of the pitch fests or interacting with the so-called incubators as I found them to be manned by people with very poor understanding of technology irrespective of their fancy degrees, pompous and often ignorant of ground realities. Moreover, the entire Startup investment scenario in India is not about creating a new product or service but only about increasing the firm's valuation and snaring the bigger fool as an investor; hence for me a colossal waste of time. I am actually trying to solve problems in a completely neglected sector both in India and elsewhere and hopefully, my products and technologies will save a few lives and provide the boat owners and private ferry operators a cleaner, safer greener and more affordable alternative.

#Startup #India #investors #pitches #valuation #sustainbility

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

When a Blind Man Cries - An Ode to Nivedita

Deep Purple’s “When a Blind Man Cries”  is arguably one of the saddest rock ballads ever penned and sung. But honestly, I was never a great fan of Purple and only started paying serious attention to the song after hearing a cover version by the German never-grew-old rockers  Axel Rudi Pell.  They did justice to the song in a way Ian Gillan and the rest of Purple could never dream—  powerful, yet  plaintive  heavy metal vocals, with canyon-deep guitar riffs emerging from the core of the heart only to rip it apart, while tears stream down from empty eyes.  Listening to this song invariably reminds me of a college senior and good friend, “Raja,” an ethnic Nepali who lived in a small room behind a pharmacy owned by his uncle, not far from my home. Short, stocky, thuggish but effulgent, we shared a love for books and rock music—though he leaned more towards metal. I started appreciating  Iron Maiden  thanks to him, while he tripped on Floyd's...

Russi Topi and other Delusions

Ushanka-The Iconic Russian Hat a.k.a. The Russi Topi Out of the blue, I was contacted by a Russian chap I had once met at a conference. No prior message, no email—just a straight video call from his car. No apology, no excuses, or preamble. He claimed it was common practice for them, and immediately looped in a colleague. Since nothing about Russia—or Russians—surprises me any more, especially when it comes to their business culture, or the apparent lack of it, I didn’t react. From unscheduled calls to blunt emails and bullying tactics used during meetings, it's all part of doing " Bizness wiz Mazeer Russha. " It was evening, I was free, so I let it slide. He had called for the unlikeliest reason— not one I could have ever guessed—they wanted to discuss the scope of sourcing construction workers from India. They first grumbled about how hard it was to get labour import quotas, pitched it as a “great opportunity” for me, even gave me a peep of Lubyanka —former KGB, now FSB...

Down Diya Brigade

In my class section in high school, there was a group of boys who weren’t particularly good at anything - not academics, sports, music, looks, not even cracking a decent joke or spinning a convincing yarn.    Yet, they were united by one habit:  Booing anyone and everyone who, in their view, dared to step out of line. Many of them were Boy Scouts as well, though not everyone. Told early on that they are a chip above the rest, with badges to proved it, they had an innate belief that they could lecture anyone. Same with delivering condescending comments to outright insults all in the name of greater good, and playing the victims when the tables turned. A trait many carried into adulthood, and by all evidence it still hasn't eroded for some now in their 50s.   Though the two of the worst offenders were not scouts, they just played the role of being too cool to be a part of anything except Booing Cheerleaders. With my outspokenness, sometimes unusual and often outlandish...

SHAME

  I first tasted deep shame in 10th standard, delivered personally by a girl’s mother, who kicked me out of their house like some neighbourhood pervert. The irony - I had never touched the girl. We were just friends. Soon afterwards, my friends in her school, some gleefully to cause hurt, others as a word of caution, filled my ears about she was caught with some boy in the school toilet. They faced disciplinary action.  While, I inherited the silent disgrace.   The second blow came when I confessed to a friend’s girlfriend, who thought I was a Casanova, that I never had a girlfriend, or touched a girl, and that I was completely inexperienced. In contrast, she had been sleeping with her coach since school, followed by a relay race of men, eventually devirginized my friend, then when he left for higher studies, helped his best friend become a man. A few more years and bodies later, she married a gold digger from the back end of nowhere - that's decades before Soci...

Enlightenment

  The voice on the phone delivered a phrase most men dread hearing from a woman, “Ravi, I have something important to tell you!”    In this case though, despite being completely smitten with her during that period and even entertaining the rose-tinted fantasy that she was the one who got away, I had nothing to worry about. My strict code of not getting involved with married women kept me safe.    I was, however, totally unprepared for what followed and even less how to visualise it.    “My third eye has opened,” she announced with absolute seriousness, then launched into a ramble about Shiva Lingams, visions, stream of consciousness and pre-Columbian Hinduism as evidenced by how a US state, made famous by fried chicken, was actually named after the Sanskrit word for thorns "Kanthaka". It is usually not very easy to unsettle or surprise me with things spiritual, bottled or otherwise, and her cosmic revelations too barely moved the needle. Well, except f...