Entrepreneur Dogma: The Silent Killer of Originality


“I started to build my dream. Somewhere along the way, I started building someone else’s playbook.”

In the wild world of startups, we love hero stories. The founder who hustled 24/7, the genius who failed fast and rose again, the team that raised millions overnight.

We turn these stories into gospel. We worship them as dogma — rigid, holy commandments that every founder must obey.

But here’s the dangerous truth:
Dogma is a shortcut to comfort, not success.

The deadliest dogmas every entrepreneur is sold.

1️⃣ Hustle 24/7 or die trying

Work until you collapse. Sleep when you’re dead. Family? Health? Who cares.

Sounds heroic, right?
In reality, this is how burnout is sold as a badge of honor. Sustainable success comes from sharp focus and energy — not self-destruction.

2️⃣ Fail fast, fail often

Yes, learning from failure is crucial. But romanticizing failure without learning is like celebrating a car crash because it “taught you something.”

Failure is a teacher — not a strategy.

3️⃣ Raise money at all costs

Somewhere along the line, we decided VC money was a trophy. The more you raise, the more you “win.”

But money is a tool, not a victory parade.
Your business might thrive better bootstrapped, profitable, and free.

4️⃣ The customer is always right

No. Some customers are wrong, loud, and costly. Your job is to choose your customer — not please everyone.

5️⃣ Growth above everything

We chase hockey-stick graphs, forgetting that vanity metrics are just that — vanity.
Revenue without margins, customers without loyalty, growth without soul — these lead to slow deaths disguised as momentum.

Why do we fall for dogma?

Because it’s easy.
It feels safer to follow a known path than to carve your own.
It feels cooler to repeat Silicon Valley slogans than to think deeply about your own reality.

Dogma gives you a script — but the greatest founders write their own.

The Entrepreneur’s Curse: When the Dream Becomes the Cage


Built to break free, but chained by our own ambition.

“I started to escape the 9-5. But now, I work 24/7 for a boss called ‘my dream’.”

Every entrepreneur starts with a fire in their belly. We tell ourselves, “I’ll be my own boss. I’ll build something meaningful. I’ll find freedom.”

But somewhere along the way, that freedom becomes a mirage. We become prisoners to our own creation — locked inside a cage we proudly built brick by brick.

The never-ending chase

Entrepreneurs are wired to keep moving. The moment we achieve a milestone, we don’t celebrate — we set a new, bigger one.

Your startup gets its first 100 customers? You think, “Why not 1,000?”
You close a big deal? You’re already eyeing the next.

Ambition is our superpower. But it’s also our slow poison.

The idea overdose

Our minds don’t stop. We’re cursed with constant ideation — new products, new pivots, new “next big things.”

We often leave half-built bridges behind, chasing the next shiny island on the horizon. And each unfinished idea weighs on us like a ghost of potential.

The loneliness paradox

Surrounded by a team, admired by peers, loved by family — yet feeling utterly alone.

Why? Because the final decisions, the late-night worries, the quiet fears — they’re all yours.

Success has many fathers, but failure is an orphan — and that orphan usually lives in the entrepreneur’s heart.

The financial and emotional rollercoaster

Some months feel like flying private jets; other months feel like you’re holding on to a falling kite in a storm.

You burn cash, energy, and sometimes your own sanity to keep things alive. Meanwhile, friends in stable jobs post pictures from their vacations, and your blood boils — not from envy, but from the realization that your hustle never really sleeps.

The silent sacrifice

Family dinners become “quick calls.” Gym sessions become “next month.” Sleep? A mythical creature you read about in productivity books.

The worst part? You justify it all in the name of “passion.”

The identity trap

Your business becomes your identity. Wins feel like personal validation; losses feel like public humiliation.

The line between *who you are* and *what you do* blurs until you can’t find yourself outside your pitch deck.

“We wanted freedom, but we got shackles made of ambition.”

The entrepreneur’s curse isn’t just about work stress. It’s about the emotional tax no one talks about. It’s about fighting invisible wars within your mind, every single day.

Yet, we keep going. Why? Because despite the curse, we love the game.

We love building, dreaming, and living on the edge. Because deep down, even our suffering is a story we want to own.

The Bohra Community: A Masterclass in Business Ecosystem Building


When we talk about thriving business communities, we often think of Silicon Valley or startup hubs like Tel Aviv and Bengaluru. But long before these flashy tech ecosystems rose, there existed quiet, tightly-knit business networks that mastered community-based growth. One shining example is the Bohra community — a fascinating case study for any entrepreneur or community builder today.

Who are the Bohras?

The Bohra community, primarily known today as Dawoodi Bohras, originated in Gujarat, India. Historically, they trace their roots to traders and merchants who were excellent at building trust-based relationships. While the community has religious origins, what really sets them apart is their social and economic ecosystem that has flourished across centuries.

Why was such a community system needed?

Imagine you’re a small trader in medieval India. There are no banks to loan you money easily. No formal insurance if your ship sinks or your goods get stolen. No “startup pitch nights” or VC funds waiting to take a bet on your idea.

You were on your own — unless you belonged to a community that pooled resources, guaranteed credit, and vouched for your reputation.

The Bohra community filled this exact gap. They created a tightly bonded network that offered:

* Financial support (credit lines, shared funds)
* Crisis assistance (help during business losses or personal emergencies)
* Mentorship and skill sharing (how to trade, manage risks, expand to new territories)
* Trust-based business references (the original “LinkedIn recommendations” if you will!)

How did the Bohra business ecosystem work?

The Bohra system was surprisingly sophisticated and modern, even by today’s standards. Here’s a simplified breakdown:

Shared Identity & Ethical Code

Every community member followed a strong ethical code. Reputation wasn’t just personal; it reflected on your family and the entire community. Trustworthiness was non-negotiable.

Interconnected Support System

Members didn’t just help each other for charity — they saw it as mutual growth. If one merchant grew, the whole network gained access to more opportunities. This meant:

      Zero-interest or low-interest loans within the community.
      Collective bargaining for better trade deals.
      Emergency support funds to bounce back from failures.

Knowledge Transfer & Mentoring

New entrepreneurs didn’t have to figure things out alone. Older, more experienced traders mentored the younger ones, often within family lines or through arranged apprenticeships.

How the system works: from small pods to larger councils

The Bohra community is beautifully structured, almost like a layered support network. At the foundation level, members often operate in small, tightly-knit local groups known as jamaats. Think of these as 7-member “pods” — small circles where individuals share resources, discuss problems, and support each other directly.

Above these pods, there is a central jamaat at the town or regional level, which acts like a larger council. This bigger body manages larger pooled funds, organizes business mentorship sessions, resolves disputes, and offers bigger loans or collective trade guarantees.

Finally, there’s the highest central leadership, which sets ethical standards, provides strategic guidance, and connects the entire global network. This tier acts as a unified brand, ensuring trust and credibility wherever a Bohra merchant goes in the world.

This pod-to-council model means a struggling entrepreneur can first lean on their 7-member pod for immediate help; if needed, they escalate to the town jamaat for bigger resources; and for major crises or opportunities (like international expansion), they can count on support from the central leadership.

Global Network Before Globalization

The Bohras were pioneers in creating cross-border trade networks long before “globalization” became a buzzword. From East Africa to the Middle East and Southeast Asia, they established trusted nodes of commerce and created a seamless supply chain.

The Bohra Community Template for Modern Builders

Today’s founders and startup enthusiasts can learn a lot from this framework:

1️⃣ Build on trust, not just transactions.
2️⃣ Create pooled resources (funds, discounts, services) for mutual growth.
3️⃣ Focus on reputation and collective brand value.
4️⃣ Encourage mentorship as a core practice, not an optional add-on.
5️⃣ Celebrate shared wins and support failures without judgment.

Why this matters today

In a hyper-competitive world where many entrepreneurs feel isolated, the Bohra community model reminds us of the power of belonging. It shows us that a strong, values-driven group can become a safety net, a growth engine, and an inspiration hub — all rolled into one.

If you’re building an entrepreneur community today, take a page from their playbook: build trust, share resources, and treat every member’s success as your own.

The Hidden Co-Founders: Israeli Spouses & The Kitchen Cabinet


While we often talk about venture capital, tech units, and risk-taking culture when describing Israel’s startup ecosystem, there’s a silent powerhouse that rarely gets enough credit: the spouses.

When Israel was founded in 1948, it was built in the middle of constant conflict and war. Men often had to volunteer or were called away for military service, leaving farms, family businesses, and shops vulnerable. While there wasn’t a strict law forcing women to officially take over businesses, there was a strong community expectation: the wife must know the business inside out to keep it alive if the husband was away — or never returned.

This wasn’t just about economics; it was survival. Business continuity was seen as a patriotic duty. Women weren’t simply supporters at home — they became equal partners in family businesses, laying the cultural foundation for today’s startup ecosystem where spouses often act as the “hidden co-founders.”

In modern Israeli startup culture, there’s a popular phrase called the “kitchen cabinet.” Originally used to describe Golda Meir’s informal advisory group that gathered in her kitchen, it now refers to the personal circle of trusted advisors founders rely on at home — often their spouses.

Many Israeli founders say their toughest strategic decisions didn’t happen in boardrooms but over late-night coffee with their spouse at the kitchen table. Spouses guide them through funding crises, pivots, layoffs, or those nerve-wracking “should we shut it down?” moments.

They hold the emotional line when things fail and cheer the loudest when things click. In a country where risk isn’t just accepted but celebrated, these spouses are not only emotional backbones but also often step into operational roles when needed — just like they did in the early days of the nation.

In Israel, a startup is never just “his” or “hers.” It’s a family mission, a collective leap, and a living example of shared resilience.

Why Israel Doesn’t Fear Startup Failure — And What We Can Learn


In Israel, failure isn’t feared — it’s your startup badge of courage.

When we think of failure in India, it usually comes with a long line of unsolicited advice from relatives, worried glances from parents, and that unspoken label — “loser.” But if you zoom out to Israel, famously known as the Startup Nation, you’ll see something very different.

I’ve been diving into articles, founder interviews, and global startup reports — and one thing is crystal clear: failure isn’t just accepted in Israel, it’s almost celebrated.

In Israel, if your startup fails, people don’t write you off. They ask, “So, what’s next?” Investors don’t shy away from you; they lean in closer. It’s as if failure is your badge of honor, proof that you had the guts to play in the arena instead of watching from the sidelines.

Why? Because in Israel, they believe that if you haven’t failed, you probably haven’t aimed big enough. You didn’t push hard enough. You didn’t swing for the fences.

A huge part of this mindset comes from their military culture. Israeli youth go through mandatory army service, where experimentation, rapid problem-solving, and facing unexpected challenges are everyday routines. Mistakes aren’t punished — they’re analyzed and turned into future strategies.

Add to that a society built on survival and constant innovation. When you’re turning deserts into green farms and defending your borders every day, you learn fast that trial and error isn’t optional — it’s how you stay alive.

What really blew my mind is that many Israeli VCs actually prefer founders who have tasted failure. They believe these founders have “paid their tuition fees” and know what not to do. Imagine pitching to an investor in India after a failed venture — chances are you’ll get a lecture on “safe government jobs” instead of funding.

Israel’s startup ecosystem treats failure like a pivot, not a funeral. It’s a milestone, not a tombstone. And that’s exactly why they keep producing unicorns and game-changing technologies, even with a population smaller than some Indian cities.

As founders and dreamers, maybe it’s time we bring this “fail forward” attitude home. Because the real failure isn’t falling — it’s refusing to get back up.

Israel doesn’t bury failed startups; it recycles them into stronger founders.

When Passion Meets Practicality: A Silent Test of Marriage


In Indian arranged marriages, your first meeting with your future wife often happens in a temple, surrounded by her relatives and yours, all watching closely. When I first met my wife like this, I didn’t make any big promises. I just told her honestly that entrepreneurship was my passion and that I would need her extra support to succeed.

She agreed. We got married. And for the first six years, it felt like life had blessed us. The business was thriving, money was flowing, and the house was filled with laughter. In those days, support was easy because success made everything look shiny.

But the real test of any relationship isn’t when you’re flying high — it’s when you crash.

When business challenges started piling up, everything changed. Debts, setbacks, betrayals — my dream began to crumble, and with it, so did the sense of security in our home.

Yet, she stood by me. She didn’t pack her bags or run away. In fact, after an eight-year career gap spent raising our kids, she took up a job to support the family. That move alone deserves more respect than any applause I’ve ever received in my entrepreneurial journey.

But support has layers. While she stood strong on the outside, inside there were storms. She wanted me to take up a job, to drop the dream, to “be practical” for the sake of the family. There were fights, emotional distance, and moments when we felt like strangers living under the same roof.

From her side, it made sense. She saw stability as love, and she believed protecting the kids from uncertainty was her duty. From her view, why should anyone hold on to a passion so stubbornly when it meant risking everything?

From my side, quitting wasn’t an option. Entrepreneurship wasn’t a hobby — it was who I am. If I gave up on it, I wouldn’t just lose a business; I would lose myself. I believed true happiness can exist even in simplicity or poverty, as long as you’re true to your soul’s calling.

I often asked myself: *Who is cruel here? Who is right?*

The truth is, neither of us was wrong. We were just two people trying to survive in our own ways. She fought for emotional and financial security; I fought for identity and purpose.

Marriage is often painted as a journey of compromise. But sometimes, it’s a silent negotiation between two very different worlds: passion and practicality.

She may never fully understand why I chose to stay on this rocky path. And I may never fully understand her fear of instability. But in those differences, there’s a story of two people who didn’t give up on each other — even when they didn’t fully agree.

The “Common Enemy Effect” in Founder Relationships


The common enemy effect is a powerful social phenomenon: people unite strongly when they share a common threat. We often see it in military units, sports teams, and political movements — and it’s equally true for founders and startup teams.


Phase 1: The early struggle

When founders start out, they face huge external threats:

  • Market rejection
  • Cash burn
  • Pressure to prove themselves
  • Family or societal doubt

Their common enemy is failure itself. This shared threat aligns them deeply. There’s no time for ego; decisions are fast and collective. Emotional support is strong. They feel like warriors in the same trench.


Phase 2: Early wins and success

Then comes funding, product traction, revenue, or media buzz. Suddenly, the “enemy” that held them together begins to fade.

Without that shared fight, founders start:

  • Claiming credit individually
  • Listening to “proxy teams” or external voices that inflate egos
  • Pushing personal agendas

The urgent need to survive is gone, so the cracks appear.


Phase 3: Gaps widen

When the common threat disappears:

  • Misaligned visions surface
  • Egos grow
  • Trust erodes
  • Silent power struggles begin

The same founders who once pulled all-nighters together may now fight over direction, credit, or influence.


Lessons from research

✅ Ben Horowitz (The Hard Thing About Hard Things): In crises, teams unite; in safety, they splinter.
✅ Patrick Lencioni (The Five Dysfunctions of a Team): Without a shared mission, conflict thrives.
✅ Harvard Business Review: “Shared existential threats unify.” New shared missions are critical as you grow.
✅ Social Identity Theory (Tajfel & Turner): Strong group identity often needs an external “enemy” to stay focused.


What can founders do?

  • Constantly define new “enemies” or big missions (new markets, innovations, tougher impact goals).
  • Regularly revisit and realign personal and collective visions.
  • Watch out for external influences that inflate individual egos.
  • Build a culture where mission > individuals, always.

In short

What unites founders at first? A common enemy (failure, survival).
What causes splits later? The enemy fades, egos rise.
What’s the fix? Keep creating new shared battles to stay united.

Why the Safe Route Looks Easy, But the Wild Route Feels Right


I’ve often sat at my desk late into the night, staring at the ceiling and asking myself the same question: Why do opportunities seem to pass me by? I risked it all. I worked long hours that blurred into days, pawned my wealth, missed family events, and took responsibility when no one else would even step up. Meanwhile, job goers clocked in their neat 10-hour shifts, played safe, saved their salaries, bought flats, and went home to sleep peacefully. Some even quit when things got tough, never bothering to look back. And today, they seem more “settled” than me. It almost feels unfair. But life isn’t a cricket match with a clear scoreboard. It’s more like a marathon with different routes — some smooth, some with hidden potholes.

The curse (and gift) of taking responsibility

When you take responsibility, you don’t just carry tasks; you carry dreams — yours and everyone else’s. You become the cushion when things go wrong, the cheerleader when hope runs out, and the punching bag when blame needs a home. You can’t play safe. You can’t say, “It’s not my problem.” You’re too busy turning fires into candles.

Why the hustler looks inconsistent

I used to think I was inconsistent. But looking back, I realize I wasn’t inconsistent — I was simply overloaded. When you’re fighting battles on ten fronts, you lose focus on the main goal. You build, break, restart, pivot. From the outside, it looks like a lack of discipline. From the inside, it’s a survival dance.

Why job goers win small but steady

Job goers? They stuck to one lane. They focused only on their paycheck, not the company’s future. They didn’t risk sleepless nights thinking about client payments or the next big move. They followed a simple formula: do the job, save, buy a house, take a vacation, repeat. And you know what? There’s nothing wrong with that.

But then, what about us?

We choose the path of impact, not just income. We choose unpredictability over comfort. We play the game knowing that some days, the scoreboard doesn’t even exist. We’re not inconsistent — we’re experimental. We’re not unlucky — we’re learning resilience the hard way. We’re not behind — we’re building stories that will echo beyond bank statements.

Job goers may retire with a pension; you’ll retire with a legacy. Choose your prize.

In the end, life isn’t about collecting steady paychecks or safe medals. It’s about staying in the arena, even when the crowd goes silent.

How to Become an Entrepreneur in 2025: Build Slow, Play Smart


I started my entrepreneurial journey back when internet cafes were still a thing, and valuation was a word only VCs in Silicon Valley threw around. In 2025, the startup game looks fancier, faster, and full of noise — but the fundamentals remain timeless.

Let’s break it down.

Motivation: Why do you really want to do this?

If your motivation is just to quit your boss, show off on LinkedIn, or post those “hustle harder” selfies — stop right here.

Entrepreneurship is about solving a problem you deeply care about, and having the stomach for months (or years) of invisible effort before the first clap.

Bootstrapping: Start with your own shoes

Bootstrapping isn’t just a funding method; it’s a mindset. You learn to be scrappy, resourceful, and ruthless about where every rupee or dollar goes.

Options to bootstrap in 2025:

  • Freelancing or consulting on the side.
  • Using small grants or local government innovation funds.
  • Partnering with customers to prepay (advance orders).
  • Running micro MVPs (minimal products) and using those profits to fuel growth.

Networking: Find ideas, co-founders & allies

Don’t just scroll startup hashtags.

  • Attend local meetups, online communities (like Indie Hackers, Founder Clubs), and industry events.
  • Discuss problems, not pitches — the right co-founder or investor loves problem-solvers, not wannabe unicorn hunters.
  • Build trust slowly, especially if your co-founder isn’t a sibling or lifelong friend.

Sales & branding: Story first, scale next

In 2025, every customer has a 5-second attention span. Your brand is your story.

  • Solve one problem well, not ten problems “sort of.”
  • Build organic brand trust before performance marketing splurges.
  • Don’t just sell products — sell why you exist.

Opportunities: 2025 is gold for niche plays

  • Hyper-local services (think “Swiggy for home-cooked elders’ meals”)
  • AI-powered micro SaaS tools
  • Regional content & commerce
  • Sustainability products (waste management, zero-waste packaging)
  • Health-tech and affordable wellness

Valuation rush vs. slow & steady

People today worship those “raised $50M in Series A” posts. But most don’t realize — those founders are married to investors now.

Conventional way (slow and steady):

  • Build solid foundation.
  • Focus on profits.
  • Cement market trust.

Unconventional way (valuation-focused):

  • Rapid user acquisition.
  • Burn money to dominate quickly.
  • Aim for big exit or IPO.

💬 Which is ideal?

If you’re building with trusted partners (like siblings or lifelong friends) → Conventional. You think long-term, family legacy, steady cash flows.

If you’re building with a convenience-based co-founder (someone you met for skills, not soul) → Unconventional might work. Faster exits, cashing out before personal values clash.

Dos & Don’ts

✅ Do:

  • Focus on one clear customer problem.
  • Keep costs lower than your ego.
  • Build systems before scaling.

❌ Don’t:

  • Build just for investor applause.
  • Ignore mental and physical health.
  • Copy trends blindly.

Benefits of being an entrepreneur

  • You own your time (even if it feels like your startup owns you at first).
  • You create impact beyond your payslip.
  • You choose your tribe — employees, partners, customers.
  • You grow faster as a person than in any corporate boardroom.

In 2025 or 2055, the game is still the same: solve real problems, stay true to your “why,” and play your own game — not someone else’s scoreboard.

Real Stories: Bootstrapping Journeys from Small Towns


When we think of startups, we often imagine glass offices in Bengaluru or pitch nights in Silicon Valley. But some of the most inspiring entrepreneurial journeys are quietly brewing in small towns, far from boardrooms and jargon-filled investor decks.

I’ve seen this firsthand founders building from cramped rooms above grocery stores, farms turned into offices, or small-town cafes with spotty Wi‑Fi and big dreams.

In small towns, bootstrapping isn’t a strategy but it’s the only way. There are no angel investors for coffee meetings or accelerators handing out capital. You depend on savings, supportive family, and a handful of believers.

The unfair advantage of small-town founders

Big-city entrepreneurs chase valuations and media hype. Small-town founders build sustainably — and by necessity. They stretch every rupee, barter for services, and play ten roles at once.

They teach themselves no-code tools. They learn social media marketing on YouTube at 2 a.m. They walk through local markets to gather feedback with humility and curiosity.

Stories that stay with me

I’m inspired by Nishita Vasanth and Priyashri Mani, co-founders of Hoopoe on a Hill, based in Kodaikanal. Since 2015, they’ve grown from sourcing wild honey from local Adivasi (Palaiyan) tribes in the Palani Hills to creating a full-fledged organic brand — including honey, beeswax wraps, and crayons — while empowering over 100 tribal families across 12 villages. Bootstrapped with ₹5 lakh–10 lakh, Hoopoe thrives on small-town efficiency, using India Post for logistics and employing local women in sustainable production. They prove you can build impactful, community-driven, profitable ventures — without chasing investor headlines.

Then there’s Ram Prasath, founder and CEO of Zaaroz, from Chidambaram. In 2018, he and his childhood friend Jayasimhan launched Zaaroz as a local food delivery app. But they didn’t stop at just meals — they expanded to deliver groceries, medicines, fruits, vegetables, meat, and even stationery across 36 tier-2 and tier-3 towns. Zaaroz has completed over 13 lakh deliveries with 400+ delivery executives. What started as a bootstrapped venture with just ₹30 lakh grew into a massive hyperlocal logistics network before they even considered raising funds. Only later did they secure ₹7 crore in funding — after they had already built a solid foundation.

The mindset difference

Small-town entrepreneurs don’t ask, “How soon can I exit?” Instead, they think, “How can I grow this so my community thrives?” They monitor daily cash flow, not social media vanity metrics. They chase satisfied customers, not valuations.

Why bootstrapping builds better character

Every setback hurts. Every win inspires. You learn resilience, patience, and the ultimate currency: resourcefulness. You build relationships because you know you’ll rely on them tomorrow.

A thought for aspiring founders

Don’t wait for perfect funding or polished pitches. Start where you are — with what you have. The market doesn’t care where you began; it cares what problem you solve and how well you solve it.

In small towns, they don’t raise funds first; they raise hopes, hustle, and heart.

In the end, bootstrapping isn’t just about building a business — it’s about building you.