I've come to realize there are two types of entrepreneurs. First, there's the classical ones – left-brained, hawkish, calculating every move, driven by numbers, often raised in families where business was a way of life. They grew up breathing this stuff. Then there's us – the accidental entrepreneurs. Right-brained, gut-driven, heart-led builders who stumbled into this world without a roadmap. No one groomed us for this; we just found ourselves here because we couldn't stop chasing ideas that wouldn't leave us alone
Sure, both types hustle in the same world, but for us accidentals, it's different. We're here for the freedom to bring our ideas to life, the exhilaration of solving problems that fascinate us, and yes – the sweet relief of not having someone else dictate our days. This journey isn't just about a grand exit strategy – it's about our way of putting a dent in the world however small it might be, and making the world a personal canvas to paint on.
This is where I found myself – never planning to be here but couldn't ignore that pull to create something from nothing. And what I've learned along the way is that the entrepreneurial fire burns hottest when you're building something because you’ve got to build it, not just because it might make you rich.
The Unexpected Path
I had no intention of becoming an entrepreneur. Born to salaried class parents in the 90s, running a business was something that certain families did. In India then, entrepreneurship seemed to follow bloodlines. The path laid out to me was simple: study hard, get a stable job, climb the corporate ladder.
In college I loved that intersection where technology could meet unbridled creativity, those moments when code could build something beautiful or solve real problems. But ultimately, I found that secure job at an MNC, wrote boring code, managed teams, collected my paycheck – walking the expected path.
Then came the internet boom, slowly democratizing entrepreneurship, breaking down old barriers. In the early 2010s while a revolution was brewing elsewhere in the world, startups were still a novel concept in India. But when I found an opportunity to work for one - I realized it was an accident bound to happen. Something ignited inside me—a restlessness, a curiosity, a hunger to create. I risked my secure job and plunged right in. What followed became the defining adventure of my life.
The Rollercoaster Years
I found myself in NYC, building products in the capital of the world. The lows were dramatic - I was part of a product launch at Disrupt TechCrunch which was almost laughed off stage. The drive back through the streets of NYC afterward was the longest I've ever experienced, with every minute stretching into eternity. We faced directionless bankruptcy before having to rebuild the company from scratch.
But the highs were equally intoxicating - the bootstrapped venture I was part of had a multi-million dollar exit and I made quite a bit more money in my 20s than my peers. I lived and built from the capital of the world. I partied in the Bahamas, traveled only business class (sometimes even first), and tasted success.
It was exhilarating. It was exhausting. And somewhere along the way, I realized I already had great stories to tell my grandkids someday which honestly to me mattered more than the money I earned.
The Pivot and Persistence
Back in India, I embarked on a journey with friends turned comrades that unexpectedly led me to building a tech company with over 350 employees. Another accident - I never planned to employ hundreds or build something at that scale. Operating under the immense presence (& pressure) of large corporates, this venture eventually culminated in an exit to one of them. We created careers, we impacted millions of users, we made a dent (albeit small).
During these rollercoaster years, the bonds with friends who became cofounders were tested as we shared every risk. We drew on the brilliant talent located in India's Tier 2 cities, proving that innovation thrives everywhere. Meanwhile, quietly in the background, family and a partner believed in me despite their hidden worries.
Post-exit, I became a CXO. The stability was nice, the title impressive. I almost settled in. The corporate machine hummed along predictably, and for a while, that certainty felt like a well-earned rest after years of chaos.
Then last year, there was again a fork in the road: continue climbing the slow corporate ladder to the rooftop with a view, or jump into a rickety rocketship with duct taped engines that might take me to the sky or might explode mid-launch. I took the latter. Because that's the thing about us accidental entrepreneurs - we can't help but chase the next glorious accident waiting to happen.
The Middle Ground
When we talk about entrepreneurs, the world loves extremes: the spectacular failures with cautionary tales, or the legendary founders with their billion-dollar unicorns. But what about the vast, vibrant middle where most of us thrive?
We didn't start with grand visions of industry domination or exit strategies. We stumbled into this world following our creative impulses, chasing interesting problems, building things that mattered to us. And somehow along the way, we created businesses that stand somewhere between the flashy headlines - not failures by any measure, but not the stuff of business magazine covers either.
This middle isn't where ambitions go to die - it's where they transform. Many of us still hunt unicorns and chase industry-defining breakthroughs. We're still hungry for scale, impact, and yes, even those big exits. The difference is in how we got here and why we keep pushing forward.
For the accidental entrepreneur, the journey from middle to massive isn't about checking boxes on some predefined path to success. It's about continuing to build with the same fire that accidentally led us here in the first place - that unquenchable urge to create something meaningful, regardless of where it ultimately lands on the success spectrum.
Embracing the Accidents
I’ve learnt to embrace the accidents, and to be on the roads less travelled and realize your story just unfolds along the way. This accidental path is a long winding road and it's an invitation to keep creating, to keep building, to keep pursuing what lights me up inside without the constraints of someone else's rulebook.
And in that sense, the undying fire of the accidental entrepreneur might be the most authentic form of success there is: not a trophy on the shelf, but a flame that continues to illuminate the path forward, day after day, year after year.
So I'll keep showing up, stoking that fire, curious about where it might lead next. Because that's what those of us who stumbled into this world do - we keep building because we can't imagine doing anything else. We burn on and the fire endures.