Tag: entrepreneurship journey

Then It Was Easy. Today It Feels Hard. Here’s What I Realised About Business After 25 Years


I started doing business in 1999.

When I look back, it honestly feels like business was much easier those days.

The internet was new. Opportunities were everywhere. Every idea felt like a first-mover advantage. There were no ready-made frameworks, no plug-and-play tools. We had to build everything from scratch—but that itself was an advantage.

If you knew something slightly better than others, you could build a business around it.

Even systems around us were flexible. Governments were still catching up with technology. Payments were easier in many ways. I remember collecting USD payments from Indian customers through PayPal using their cards. Credit cards themselves were a form of bootstrapping. There were tax benefits and fewer compliance headaches.

Today, everything feels different.

There are frameworks for everything. Microservices, APIs, platforms—you don’t need to build from scratch anymore. But strangely, that has not made business easier. It has made it more crowded.

Customers are more informed. Competition is everywhere. Governments are fully aware and tightly regulating. There are caps, rules, taxes, tracking—nothing goes unnoticed.

Earlier, building was the challenge.
Now, standing out is the challenge.

When I sat and analysed this, I realised something important.

Business is not harder today.
It is just different.

In the early days, the advantage was in knowledge and access. Today, knowledge is everywhere. What matters now is execution, speed, and consistency.

Earlier, we built products and customers came.
Today, you need distribution first, then product.

Earlier, a new idea was enough.
Today, trust and systems matter more.

I also realised something else. I was unconsciously comparing two different phases of my life—my early, aggressive, high-energy phase with fewer responsibilities, and my current phase with financial pressure, family responsibility, and constraints.

That comparison is not fair.

The truth is, the game has changed. And I need to adapt to the new rules, not fight them.

That’s when I started looking at simpler, system-driven businesses. Businesses that generate regular income, that don’t depend on complex structures, and that can run with clear processes.

Maybe success today is not about building something revolutionary.

Maybe it is about building something that runs smoothly, every single day.

And honestly, that feels like a game I can still win.

Macrohard: When Dreams Were Bigger Than Skills


When I look back at my early days, I don’t see a polished entrepreneur.
I see a kid with zero skills, zero experience… but one big thing — a dream.

My first company was called Macrohard.

Yes… Macrohard.
An oxymoron to Microsoft.

At that time, just naming a company felt like building one. My friend and I sat, thought hard, and came up with that name. It sounded powerful to us. We didn’t know if it made sense to the world—but it made perfect sense to us.

We even booked a domain.

Those days, booking a domain itself felt like entering the big league. Platforms like Network Solutions would let you reserve a domain and give you 90 days to pay. No instant payments, no UPI, no frictionless checkout like today.

If you didn’t pay… the domain was gone.
Simple as that.

But for us, just holding that domain for those few days felt like we owned a piece of the internet.

We introduced ourselves as “Founders of Macrohard.”
Not as students. Not as beginners. Founders.

Confidence was never the problem. Reality was.

At the same time, we were part of the Linux User Group Chennai (LUGC) that used to meet in IIT Madras.

Those sessions were something else.

It wasn’t just about technology.
It was about belief.

Open source was not just software—it was an ideology.
We were young, energetic, and completely anti-proprietary. We felt like warriors fighting for a cause, even though we barely understood the depth of what we were defending.

Looking back now, we were crazy.
But it was a good kind of crazy.

We had:

  • No clear direction
  • No structured learning
  • No business model
  • Not even real passion yet

But we had curiosity.
And that was enough to start.

Those days didn’t build a company.
They built something more important — the seed of entrepreneurship.

Today, when I think of Macrohard, I don’t laugh at the name.
I respect it.

Because that name was the first time I told myself:
“I am going to build something.”

And sometimes, that’s all it takes.

The Day I Walked Away From Everything I Thought Was Mine


2008 didn’t just take away my company.

It took away people.

A partner I once called my best friend.
A love I believed was real.

Both gone.
Both unreal, as I painfully discovered.

That phase didn’t feel like loss.
It felt like being cut open… slowly… while still alive.

I still remember one day very clearly.

I got ready like any normal day — neatly dressed, wearing my Woodland shoes.
I told myself I’ll go watch a movie at Mayajaal. Maybe that would help.

I reached there.

But I couldn’t walk in.

Something inside me refused.

Instead, I just started walking.

No plan. No destination.

From Mayajaal… all the way to Mahabalipuram.

Tears didn’t stop.
Thoughts didn’t stop.

My mind kept replaying everything —
Was it all fake?
Was I living a dream that never existed?
How did everything collapse so fast?

At times, I don’t even remember parts of that walk.
There were moments of blankness… like my mind was shutting down to protect itself.

I don’t know how I walked that distance.
I don’t know how I came back.

I just did.

Years have passed.

Today, I have accepted what happened.
Life moved forward.
People moved on.
Even karma, in its own way, has done its job.

But acceptance is not the same as understanding.

Some questions never got answers.

Why did it happen?
Why did people change?
Was I blind… or just trusting?

I don’t carry anger anymore.

But I carry those questions.

Silently.

Because sometimes in life…
you don’t get closure.

You just learn to live without it.

When Life Was Moving Between Cities and a 3-Month-Old Smile


Exactly 10 years ago.

My daughter was just three months old.
She didn’t know how to sit. Didn’t know how to talk.
She was just rolling around… smiling at the ceiling fan… living in her own small universe.

And I was still rolling in the sky of becoming a father.

My wife was in her native. I was driving between Chennai, Madurai and Pollachi like a shuttle service. Highway tea shops were my silent companions. Early morning drives. Late night returns. Phone calls in between.

Business was going good.
I had a solid team. Energy was high.
That was the time I was seriously working on my coffee shop initiative — ideas, branding thoughts, concepts, locations, numbers, dreams. Filter coffee was not just a drink. It was a possibility.

Friend time had reduced.
Not intentionally. Life was just expanding.

But still, I made sure I showed up.

Green Park in Chennai.
Union Club in Madurai.

Those were my meeting spots. Laughter. Business talks. Political debates. Life updates. Some evenings were heavy, some were light, but they kept me grounded.

Bangalore visits had reduced.
Before 2015, Bangalore used to be almost a weekly emotion.
After that, priorities shifted. Travel changed direction. Responsibilities quietly took the driver’s seat.

That was also the period when I purchased two houses in Madurai.
And the construction of my present house was happening brick by brick. I still remember walking through half-built walls, imagining furniture, imagining children running around.

Today when I think back…

I don’t remember the stress.
I don’t remember the tiredness.

I remember the movement.
I remember the building phase.
I remember the silent excitement.

A 3-month-old baby.
A growing business.
Under-construction dreams.
Reduced Bangalore trips.
More responsibilities.

Life was not slow.
Life was not easy.
But life was beautifully in motion.

Ten years passed quietly.
But that version of me — driving highways, carrying dreams, and learning fatherhood — still smiles somewhere inside.

And that 3-month-old baby?
She is ten now.
Time really doesn’t ask permission before it moves.