The panel that followed took the same argument from the investor’s side, and neither panelist softened the harder parts of it.
Chandu Nair, an angel investor, named a resistance he sees often: a lingering discomfort in India with profiting from artisans’ work, treated for decades as a choice between doing good and doing business. He argued the two aren’t in conflict, and used his own portfolio to make the point. He invested in a cast-iron cookware company when it was doing about ₹1 crore in revenue. Six years later, selling entirely online, it had crossed ₹180 crore. The core buyer wasn’t the grandmother generation the product was built for, it was women aged 22-35, and the brand’s positioning shifted to match, with Mandira Bedi and later Shriya Saran as brand ambassadors representing a fit, modern identity rather than a heritage one.
Nair argued capital isn’t the binding constraint, talent is. Brand-building skill in India is concentrated in Bangalore and Mumbai, built up over years at companies like Godrej and Marico, and it doesn’t relocate to Lucknow or Varanasi. Even if the funding gap closed tomorrow, he said, a founder in a smaller city would still struggle to find someone who knows how to build a brand.
He also argued the standard venture model itself is the wrong fit for this sector, and pointed to alternatives: revenue-share structures, deals where a founder returns an agreed IRR and keeps the business, and a comparison to football club ownership, contrasting the English Premier League’s single-owner model with the Bundesliga’s fan-owned structure, as a way to think about what patient, community-backed capital could look like for Indian craft brands.
He also raised a story he believes doesn’t get told the way it should: a 23-year-old founder in Hyderabad built a men’s grooming brand, Regional Man, from scratch to roughly ₹70 crore in revenue, then sold it to Mamaearth for about ₹195 crore. He contrasted the lack of attention that story gets with the coverage a handful of controversial businessmen receive, and named the filter he actually applies as an investor: not whether a business is good, but whether it’s investable, meaning there’s a realistic path to an exit.
Varun Verma, a partner at Fireside Ventures, pushed back gently on the pessimism, pointing to Indie Wild’s traction in the US and Anita Dongre and Sabyasachi’s presence in Western retail as proof that Indian brands can compete abroad. Fireside was one of only two funds in India investing in consumer brands when it started in 2017, built on the thesis that non-tech Indian brands could still deliver venture-style returns. But Verma was direct about where that thesis breaks down outside major cities: “I have visited 13 non-metro cities. I haven’t found a single founder I could invest in.” He attributed this to a business-building mindset that hasn’t yet taken hold outside the metros, not a shortage of good ideas, and argued that ecosystems grow from one visible success, the way Ola’s rise pulled a generation of Bangalore and Mumbai investors and talent in behind it. Until a comparable success exists for a cultural brand, he said, capital and talent won’t follow at scale. He also named storytelling as an underrated founder skill, pointing out that founders are constantly selling, to investors, customers, employees, even their own families, and that Indian founders in particular tend to undersell what they’ve built.