(Screenshot from Blume Ventures Youtube Channel)

This story is part of the Notes from Podcasts series on eChai, where we highlight conversations from across the ecosystem that carry lessons for founders.

In this episode of the Blume Podcast (Season 4: Destiny Avenged), Karthik Reddy spoke with Rajeev Samant, founder of Sula Vineyards, about the long journey of building India’s wine industry.

Rajeev began in the mid-90s with no background in farming or wine. He left his job at Oracle, bought grapes from Crawford Market, and fermented his first batch at home. In a country where whisky was the only drink that mattered, people thought he was crazy for even trying. Licenses were hard to get, debt was heavy, and there was no clear policy for making wine in India.

One turning point came when Rajeev met Deepak Shahdadpuri, who was just beginning his move into venture capital. They met through friends, Rajeev led the group on a trip to Goa, and the two bonded. At a time when investors in small consumer brands were rare, Deepak chose to back Sula and stayed with the company until the IPO. The bond came first, the investment followed.

Step by step, Rajeev kept going. He helped draft Maharashtra’s 2001 Grape Processing Policy, built India’s first wine tourism hub in Nashik, and after years of struggle, took Sula public. Along the way he showed why patience matters. It kept the company alive through slow policy shifts, changing customer habits, and the long grind of creating a new culture.

The conversation also shows the choices behind the journey. Showing profits early when cash was scarce. Treating tourism as survival, not just marketing. Cutting distractions during COVID to focus on the core. But the thread running through all of it is patience. Not sitting back, but choosing to keep building when the world said no.

As Rajeev put it, “You don’t realize that some of the most lasting stories are 20-year-old, 30-year-old stories.”

You can watch the full episode with Rajeev Samant here.

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HCLzTT1SatQ

Some interesting segments from this Blume Podcast conversation:

> “People used to look at me like I was completely crazy… why does this guy think he can actually make wine here?”
> Fermenting the first batch at home in 1995–96, before even securing licenses.
> Helping draft Maharashtra’s 2001 Grape Processing Policy that opened the doors for the industry.
> Meeting Deepak Shahdadpuri on a Goa trip and finding one of the first VCs willing to back Indian consumer brands.
> “We built India’s first wine tourism operation… without that part of the business, this business would not survive.”
> Struggling with debt and cash shortages, yet choosing to show profit early instead of chasing vanity growth.
> Pivoting during COVID by cutting imports, focusing on Indian wines, and creating The Source, a breakout hit.

https://x.com/BlumeVentures/status/1965288264690172408

https://x.com/SeekingN0rth/status/1965294216294088837

A friend told me he did not watch Apple’s keynote for fun, he watched because his business depends on it. Many folks think these shows don’t feel as special anymore, but for those inside the ecosystem this is when guesses stop and plans take shape.

Apple confirmed the iPhone Air’s 5.6 mm profile and titanium build. It is the thinnest iPhone yet, with a 120 Hz ProMotion display. The AirPods Pro 3 introduced Live Translation, letting users hear real-time interpretation in their ears. The Apple Watch Series 11 gained hypertension detection, marking another step in health monitoring.

Each line on the keynote slides may look like a product spec, but people across the ecosystem are tuned in. Case makers are checking dimensions. Developers are eyeing new display standards. Health-tech founders are weighing sensor data. Language and travel startups are listening for what translation at scale might mean.

For most viewers, the keynote is a show. For those who build around Apple, it is the signal to stay sharp and be ready. The work does not start at the announcement. It gains direction there.

Apple is not the only stage. Others wait just as closely for Google I/O, Meta Connect, Microsoft Build, Samsung Unpacked, Shopify Editions. These launches mean different things to different people. For some, it is interest, just keeping up with what is coming. For others, they set the pace of work, turning ideas into deadlines. Some walk away inspired, some start planning, others remain indifferent. The real question is, whose move matters most to your business right now?

(Image credit: Nalin's Linkedin Post)

For years, startup life had two clear lanes. You either raised round after round, or you bootstrapped with whatever you had.

Now, another lane is opening up. More founders are raising a single seed round and then never raising again. They build carefully, stay lean, and let customers carry them forward. People have started calling it seed-strapping.

It feels different from the other paths. Bootstrapping can be lonely and hard. The fundraising treadmill can be distracting. Seed-strapping sits in the middle. Enough capital to get started, but a focus on making the business work without depending on the next round.

The timing matters too. AI and better tools have made it cheaper to build. Go-to-market is lighter, more product-led. And the funding market itself has tightened, making Series A harder to reach. Together, these shifts have made seed-strapping not just possible, but exciting.

Storylane is one of the clearest examples. In 2021, they raised a seed round. They kept the team small, around 40 people. Four years later, they crossed $10M ARR while staying profitable.

As founder Nalin Senthamil wrote on LinkedIn today: “Excited to announce Storylane just hit $10M ARR… staying profitable without raising… The discipline of staying lean and profitable compounds.”

Zapier followed this path more than a decade ago. They raised about $1.2 million in seed funding in 2012, became profitable within two years, and never went back for a traditional Series A. Calendly did something similar. With just $550,000 in seed funding in 2014, it grew steadily and profitably until, years later, it was valued at over $3 billion before raising a larger round (TechCrunch). And now, a wave of AI-first startups is proving the same idea. Jenni.ai, for instance, reached $10M in revenue with less than $1M raised (Latka), while Pump scaled to a $15M run-rate with under $5M in capital (Tanay Jaipuria).

None of these stories make one path better than another. Fundraising works. Bootstrapping works. Seed-strapping is simply a new option that more founders are beginning to take seriously.

The old question was, “When is your Series A?”

The one that feels more relevant now is, “Could one round be enough?”

https://www.linkedin.com/posts/nalinpradeep_excited-to-announce-storylane-just-hit-10m-activity-7371085550365290496-1t7g

People love to say the mountains are calling. For most of us, that means a long weekend, some photos, and a return to office life.

In 2018, Krunal Jajal set up a one-person tent in the mountains, thinking it was only for a short break. He had just quit his corporate job with no plan. “I didn’t know what to do,” he says, “but I knew what not to do.”

The break kept stretching. He lived in that tent for weeks, spent days in the remote jungle of Uttarakhand without human contact, and later volunteered at a village school where everything felt different from what he knew. “Each experience had a part in changing my view of life,” he says. It was enough to make him stay.

But staying meant survival. With almost no savings, he started working at cafés and backpacking hostels, sometimes cleaning washrooms, sometimes washing dishes. He even worked as a photographer for a trek guide. “I didn’t give a second thought to it. I just wanted to travel more.”

That hustle carried him to Spiti Valley, where he joined a small travel company. He ran their homestay, led treks, and organized group trips, often for minimal pay. But the work gave him meaning, and he stayed even through COVID. “It’s all I ever wanted in a company,” he says.

For a while, he lived by a rule: do not think about money until 25. Just roam. But milestones arrive, even in the mountains. As 25 came closer, he asked himself what next. “I liked what I was doing, so I decided to start my own travel company.”

That is how Uncle Nomad began in Old Manali. Today it curates treks, road trips, and homestay experiences across the Himalayas. “It was never my dream to start a company,” Krunal says. “But my way of living life took me to become a founder.”

Does the romance fade once you build a business there, or does it grow deeper because the mountains are no longer a backdrop, but your life’s work?

I was speaking with Nadeem Jafri, the founder of Hearty Mart, about how businesses can shape communities, and he shared the story of Sathal, a small village near Dholka in Gujarat. For many years, most of Sathal’s youth would walk to Dholka GIDC, stand outside the factory gates, and hope to be picked for daily wage work. “Some would get a shift, others would return home with nothing. That uncertainty was a way of life,” Nadeem told me.

In 2016, Hearty Mart set up a spice factory in Dholka GIDC. Two of Nadeem’s partners were from Sathal, and when the time came to build the team, they looked first to their own village. “These were families we knew, people we had grown up with, and there was already a bond of trust,” he said.

That decision shaped the company in ways no one had imagined. “One boy who had worked at a printing unit became our production head. Another, who had some experience in accounts, joined finance. Slowly, as we created departments, we kept turning to Sathal, and the youth of the village stepped into those roles,” Nadeem recalled.

The link with Sathal, however, goes back even further. “Hearty Mart started in 2004, and our very first employee was from Sathal, along with my partners,” Nadeem said. Over two decades later, he sees the generational change. “Many of them studied in vernacular schools and left education halfway, but their children have studied in English medium schools. Some have gone on to B-Schools, some to Law schools in Ahmedabad, even pursuing their Masters now.”

The effect is visible both inside the factory and outside in the village. The same young men who once waited at the gates for daily wages are now running operations. Their children are aiming higher, stepping into careers and institutions their parents could not have imagined. “The village economy started improving, and with that came dignity,” Nadeem reflected.

He put it simply: “These young people were always capable. All they needed was a platform. We gave them an opportunity, but they are the ones who built something much bigger.”

In Sathal, a factory became more than work. It became stability, pride, and leadership. And it leaves us with a question worth asking everywhere: what happens when a factory stops being just work and starts becoming part of a village?