From Kanpur to Koramangala: Our Seed Funding Story
The 1:30 AM flight from Lucknow to Bangalore is not for the faint of heart. It’s a red-eye in the truest sense, fueled by lukewarm coffee and the kind of nervous energy that only a make-or-break meeting can induce. For me, a founder from Kanpur, this wasn't just a trip; it was a pilgrimage to the heart of India's startup ecosystem. My destination: a small, unassuming office in Koramangala, the home of a seed investor who had agreed to hear my pitch.
For months, my co-founder and I had been burning the midnight oil in our small office in Swaroop Nagar. Our startup, a platform designed to help Tier-2 city artisans reach a global market, was more than just a business idea; it was a passion project born from the streets we grew up on. We had bootstrapped, borrowed from family, and poured every ounce of our being into building a prototype. But to scale, we needed more than just passion. We needed capital. And in India, for tech startups, all roads for capital seem to lead to Bangalore.
After countless cold emails and a few lukewarm video calls, a reply landed in my inbox. It was from Ananya Reddy, a partner at a boutique seed fund known for backing founders from non-metro cities. She was sharp, her questions were pointed, and her reputation preceded her. She had built and exited her own successful startup a decade ago. A ten-minute introductory call had turned into thirty, and ended with an invitation: "If you're in Bangalore sometime next month, let's connect." I booked my flight that evening.
Walking into her office felt like stepping into a different world. The air buzzed with an energy that was palpable—a mix of ambition, caffeine, and the quiet confidence of people building the future. It was a stark contrast to the more traditional business environment of Kanpur.
Ananya greeted me not with a formal handshake, but with a warm smile and a question about my journey. She listened patiently as I nervously stumbled through my carefully rehearsed pitch deck. I spoke about the weavers in Varanasi, the leather craftsmen in my own city of Kanpur, and the incredible, untapped potential that lay dormant in the heartland of India. I showed her our numbers, the early traction, and our vision for the future.
She didn't interrupt. Instead, she let me finish, her gaze fixed on me, making me feel like I was the only person in the room. When I was done, she closed her laptop.
"I grew up in Vijayawada," she said softly. "My father ran a small textile business. I know the challenges. I also know the grit."
That was the moment the meeting shifted. It was no longer an investor interrogating a founder. It became a conversation. She saw beyond the numbers and the slides; she saw the mission. She understood the 'why' behind our what. She challenged my assumptions, poked holes in my strategy, and pushed me to think bigger. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once.
I walked out of that two-hour meeting not knowing if we would get the funding. But I knew I had been heard.
Two days later, back in our Kanpur office, the term sheet arrived.
That flight to Bangalore was more than just a journey for capital. It was a validation of our idea and, more importantly, a validation of our roots. It proved that a good idea, backed by relentless execution, can find a believer, whether you're in a high-rise in HSR Layout or a small office near Gumti No. 5. The road ahead is long, but now, with a true partner like Ananya on board, the journey from Kanpur to Koramangala feels like the first of many milestones.