thoughts

Kahlil Gibran, in his short piece “The Fox,” tells of a fox who, observing its elongated shadow at sunrise, boldly decides to pursue a camel for lunch. As the sun climbs higher, the fox’s shadow shrinks in the midday light—and its ambitions shrink with it, settling for a mere mouse. This little parable, though brief, is filled with timeless insight for anyone setting out on an entrepreneurial journey.

It’s easy to be like the sunrise fox. In the beginning of a new venture, you stand tall with exciting possibilities. You picture yourself dominating the industry, leaping over obstacles, and landing that giant metaphorical camel. But when the day matures, the bright sun reminds you that aspirations must contend with realities: budgets might be smaller than you expected, market acceptance is rarely immediate, and the work can be more daunting than the dream. Suddenly, it’s all too tempting to chase something far less grand.

Yet the tension between grand ambition and grounded awareness isn’t a flaw; it’s the spark that drives growth. There’s nothing wrong with desiring the camel if you remember that every successful expedition requires careful planning and occasional recalibration. You need to do the research, gather feedback from the market, then dare to refine your vision again and again—resisting that knee-jerk urge to shrink your dreams to the size of your disappointments.

In the end, the moral is simple: You can acknowledge the shrinking shadow without letting it define your aspirations. Keep aiming high while staying attentive to the changing light. If your first steps lead you to something smaller than expected, see it as an opportunity to learn, adapt, and grow. Entrepreneurship, at its best, balances the soaring idealism of morning with the clear-eyed realism of midday—and when both are respected, even a fox can dream of camels.

Most people think entrepreneurship is about being in the right circles. Attending events, making connections, networking with the “right people.” And while relationships matter, what actually builds businesses isn’t what happens in social settings—it’s what happens when you’re alone.

This ties directly into Comfort and Entrepreneurship—the moment people get a taste of success, they seek validation through comfort and socializing rather than going deeper into the work. But entrepreneurship doesn’t reward those who constantly seek distraction. It rewards those who embrace solitude.

Some businesses require alone time. Some ideas don’t come in a brainstorming session with friends. Some strategies don’t get built in WhatsApp groups.

Real innovation happens in silence, away from distractions, where the mind has space to connect dots others don’t even see.

But many people avoid this. They crave social interaction, always needing to be around people, filling their days with meetings, lunches, and collaborations that feel productive but don’t actually move the needle. They confuse busyness with progress.

The ones who make it? They embrace the solitude. They know that real work happens in long, uninterrupted stretches. They are comfortable stepping away from the noise, shutting off notifications, and spending time in deep focus.

It’s not glamorous. It’s not fun. And that’s why so few people do it.

If you’re constantly surrounded by people, always checking messages, always available—you’re not really working. You’re just managing impressions.

The best founders disappear for a while. They go into the zone, build something meaningful, and then emerge with results.

If you struggle with this, maybe it’s time to rethink your approach. Real work requires solitude.

For a deeper dive into this, read: Solitude Will Break You (And That’s the Point).

There’s something unsettling about a scarecrow. It stands tall in a field, commanding respect, inspiring fear. But at its core, it is nothing—just straw and old clothes held together by the illusion of presence.

Kahlil Gibran’s short piece The Scarecrow from The Madman captures this paradox perfectly. The scarecrow declares, “The joy of scaring is a deep and lasting one, and I never tire of it.” But when the narrator agrees, the scarecrow delivers the punchline:

“Only those who are stuffed with straw can know it.”

And just like that, fear, power, and emptiness collapse into one.

The Hollow Enjoy Fear

The scarecrow enjoys his work—scaring away birds that never touch him, never challenge him. He thrives on the illusion of power. And yet, his statement cuts deeper: Only those who are hollow inside can truly take joy in making others afraid.

Think about the figures who have ruled through fear. The bullies, the tyrants, the manipulative bosses. They bask in the power of intimidation, but what happens when you look closer?

Inside, they are empty.

Real strength does not come from making others fear you. It comes from within. And the ones who rely on fear? They are, like the scarecrow, stuffed with straw—mere figures of presence, nothing more.

Fear is Temporary

A year passes. The scarecrow still stands in the field. But now, two crows are building a nest under his hat.

The same birds he once frightened now see him as harmless. The illusion has faded.

And isn’t that always the case? Fear does not last. The people who once cowered learn to see through the act. The leaders who ruled through terror find themselves ignored. The bosses who controlled through intimidation wake up one day to an office that no longer listens.

Fear works—until it doesn’t.

The Final Question

When the scarecrow loses his power, he does not move. He does not fight. He simply stands. A philosopher, no longer a tyrant.

Which raises the real question:

When fear fades—who are you without it?

For those who rule by presence alone, the answer is simple: nothing.

There is a peculiar kind of freedom that comes from being robbed.

Not of wealth, not of possessions, but of illusions.

Kahlil Gibran, in The Madman, tells the story of a man whose masks are stolen. These were not ordinary masks but the many faces he wore for the world—the identities, expectations, and personas he had crafted. At first, he mourns their loss. But then, standing bare before the world, he realizes something profound: he is finally free.

“Blessed are the thieves who stole my masks.”

And then comes an even deeper revelation:

“And I have found both freedom of loneliness and the safety from being understood, for those who understand us enslave something in us.”

To be misunderstood is often painful. In our careers, in our ventures, in our personal journeys, we long to be recognized, to be validated. But there is a hidden cost to being understood too soon, too completely. When people “get” us, they box us in. They define us in ways that might feel comforting at first but quickly become cages. Expectations are set. Labels solidify. The freedom to evolve disappears.

In the early days of a career, of a startup, of a dream—we wear masks. The mask of certainty, of invincibility, of playing the game just right. And then, life does what life does.

We get robbed.

A bad partnership, a deal gone wrong, a business failure, a job loss. Maybe we trusted the wrong people. Maybe we miscalculated. Maybe we simply weren’t ready. It feels unfair. It feels like defeat.

But with time, we realize: the thieves did us a favor. They didn’t steal our essence. They only took the masks.

And without those masks, we are free.

Free to be what we actually are, rather than what we thought we should be. Free to build again, but this time from a place of wisdom, rather than illusion. Free to play the game on our own terms, rather than bending to fit inside someone else’s narrative.

To lose our masks is to lose the safety of being understood. And yet, in that very act, we gain something more precious—the space to redefine ourselves.

Many fear loss. Few recognize its gift.

For those who have been ‘robbed’ early in their journey—of a false sense of security, of blind optimism, of naïve trust—consider this: Maybe it was necessary. Maybe it was the only way to get here, to this place of clarity.

And so, as Kahlil Gibran wrote:

“Blessed are the thieves who stole my masks.”

Because in losing them, we found something better. Ourselves.

Everyone wants to be an entrepreneur—until they actually have to be one.

It starts with the dream. The idea that you’ll break free from the 9-to-5, build something of your own, and never have to take orders again. You hustle in the beginning, working nights and weekends, grinding through uncertainty, and making sacrifices while others live comfortably.

Then, a little success happens. Maybe a good investment, an exit, or just enough cash flow to breathe easy. And suddenly, the dream shifts.

The money that was supposed to fuel growth gets redirected—into a bigger house, a fancy car, nights out with new “friends” who are more impressed by your bank balance than your work ethic. Maybe even a relationship that demands stability, predictability, and less risk. You justify it: I’ve worked hard. I deserve this.

And you do. But comfort is a trap.

The hunger that drove you to build disappears. The urgency to hustle fades. Your time gets consumed by maintenance—of your lifestyle, your social circle, your new commitments. You become busy, but not in the way that built your success in the first place. Instead of creating, you’re maintaining. Instead of growing, you’re managing.

Entrepreneurship isn’t a moment. It’s a way of life.

The ones who actually win don’t see the hustle as a temporary phase. They don’t grind to escape the grind. They embrace it as a feature, not a bug. They build not just for financial success, but because they are wired to solve problems, chase opportunities, and push boundaries.

If you start a business just to buy comfort, you’ll trade your ambition for it. If you start a business because you love building, you’ll never stop.

That’s the difference between those who last and those who fade away.

Look around at the tech accessories you use daily. That USB hub? Probably Orico or UGREEN. Your external SSD enclosure? Likely Acasis or SSK. Your laptop dock, power bank, or GaN charger? Most likely Anker, Baseus, or Aukey. Even your phone case—whether it’s Spigen, Ringke, or ESR—probably originates from a non-Indian brand.

The truth is, China and a few other Asian countries (South Korea, Taiwan, Japan) dominate the accessories and peripherals market, while India barely has a presence. This is a massive lost opportunity.

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China’s Domination in Tech Accessories & Peripherals

Chinese brands have built a monopoly in essential accessories due to several key reasons:

1. Unmatched Manufacturing Ecosystem

Shenzhen, often called the Silicon Valley of Hardware, has a massive supply chain, easy access to raw materials, and a skilled workforce that enables rapid prototyping and mass production.

2. Category-Wise Dominance

Chinese companies don’t just specialize in one type of product—they own entire accessory categories:

• PC & Laptop Peripherals
  • USB Hubs, Docking Stations – Orico, UGREEN, Anker, Baseus
  • SSD Enclosures – Acasis, SSK, QGeeM
  • Keyboards & Mice – Redragon, Ajazz, Royal Kludge (RK), Dareu
  • Laptop Cooling Pads – Havit, Klim
  • Webcams & Capture Cards – AVerMedia, Elgato (Corsair)
• Phone Accessories
  • Phone Cases – Spigen (Korean), Ringke (Korean), ESR, Nillkin, Torras, Supcase, Poetic, Mous
  • Screen Protectors – Whitestone Dome (Korean), Belkin, Nilkin, amFilm
  • Power Banks – Anker, Baseus, ROMOSS, UGREEN, Xiaomi
  • Chargers & Cables – Anker, Baseus, UGREEN, Aukey, Mcdodo
• Smart Home & IoT Peripherals
  • Smart Plugs – TP-Link (Chinese), Meross
  • Smart Cameras – Xiaomi, TP-Link, Imou
  • Mesh Wi-Fi Systems – Tenda, TP-Link, Xiaomi, HUAWEI

3. Rapid Innovation & Cost Advantage

• These companies quickly adopt new technologies, whether it’s USB4, Thunderbolt Docks, GaN chargers, Networking Devices, MagSafe, high-speed SSD.
• They manufacture at scale, keeping prices competitive.

4. Brand Proliferation & Global Reach

• Chinese brands dominate Amazon, AliExpress, and retail stores worldwide.
• They also act as OEMs for Western brands, meaning even non-Chinese brands often rely on Chinese factories.

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Where is India in This Market?

Despite being a huge consumer of accessories, India has almost no global presence in this space.

Existing Indian Brands (But Limited Impact)

A few Indian brands exist, but they lack innovation and global scale:

• Foxin – Keyboards, mice, cables (mostly budget-focused).
• Zebronics – PC accessories and audio products, but lacks high-end peripherals.
• Ambrane – Power banks and chargers, but not a premium player.
• iBall – Once a strong brand, now fading.
• Stuffcool – Focused on mobile accessories like cases and chargers, but not at Anker/UGREEN level.
• Portronics – Decent in the budget accessories space but lacks premium innovation.

These brands mostly cater to the entry-level market in India and struggle to compete with the likes of Spigen, Anker, or Orico internationally.

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The Massive Loss for India

By not building strong Indian brands in peripherals and accessories, we’re losing in multiple ways:

1. Dependence on Imports

Almost all high-quality accessories are imported, leading to a trade deficit.

2. Missed Job Creation

If India built its own accessory ecosystem, it could create thousands of jobs in R&D, manufacturing, and retail.

3. Ignoring ‘Make in India’ Potential

Despite government support for local manufacturing, no major push has been made for accessories and peripherals.

4. No Global Recognition

China’s brands have become household names globally, while India doesn’t have even one globally known accessory brand.

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The Value Chain That India Is Missing Out On

The biggest loss isn’t just in selling accessories—it’s in the entire value chain of technological advancement. Many top accessory brands started with simple products and then moved up the ladder to premium and complex electronics.

Case Study: Anker (China)

• Started in 2011 with basic USB cables and chargers.
• Expanded into power banks, docking stations, and GaN chargers.
• Today, they make high-end audio gear (Soundcore), smart home devices (Eufy), and projectors (Nebula).
• Now, Anker is valued at over $1 billion and is a global leader in accessories.

Case Study: Spigen (South Korea)

• Began by making basic plastic phone cases.
• Later, introduced rugged and premium MagSafe-compatible cases.
• Now sells car chargers, wireless chargers, power banks, and screen protectors.
• Became a global leader in phone accessories.

Case Study: UGREEN (China)

• Started with simple USB hubs and cables.
• Expanded into SSD enclosures, docking stations, and power adapters.
• Now, they’re making MagSafe accessories and high-end Thunderbolt docks.

What Did These Brands Do Right?

• Focused on one category, built expertise, and then expanded.
• Kept an eye on trends like GaN charging, MagSafe, and Thunderbolt accessories.
• Became global brands through aggressive online sales and partnerships.

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Can India Catch Up?

India already manufactures smartphones (Apple, Samsung, Xiaomi), but we lack an ecosystem for peripherals and accessories. Here’s how we can catch up:

• Government & Private Sector Push – Incentives for local R&D and accessory startups.
• Focus on Niche Accessories – Instead of trying to beat Anker overnight, Indian brands can start with MagSafe accessories, SSD enclosures, or GaN chargers.
• Leverage E-commerce – Indian brands should aim to become the next Spigen or Anker on Amazon, Flipkart, and international platforms.

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The Final Thought: Where is India’s Orico, Anker, or Spigen?

Tech accessories and peripherals are not just afterthoughts—they’re a multi-billion dollar industry. India is one of the largest consumers of these products, yet we’re nowhere in the global market.

Until we build our own ecosystem, we’ll remain dependent on China—for everything from USB hubs to phone cases, power banks to SSD enclosures.

And that’s a missed opportunity too big to ignore.

There was a time when silence was an option.

You could sit in a room, listen to a conversation, and decide—consciously or otherwise—not to have an opinion. It wasn’t required.

Now? Not having an opinion is the greatest sin of all.

The world has changed. Today, you are expected not just to have a take on everything, but to communicate that take—loudly, confidently, immediately. Twitter, Instagram, LinkedIn, WhatsApp groups, office Slack channels—every space is an arena for discourse. And every discourse is a battleground.

It started as empowerment. Everyone had a voice. More voices meant more perspectives. More perspectives meant richer conversations. But somewhere along the way, the algorithm got greased with outrage, and the nature of conversation changed.

The scope and channels for dialogue increased.

The tolerance for different dialogue decreased.

In the past, polite society had unspoken agreements: certain topics were off-limits unless spoken in hushed tones among the trusted. Politics, religion, sex—these were the fault lines best avoided at dinner tables and water coolers.

Now, those lines don’t exist. Everything is on the table. Every workplace, every friend group, every family gathering is a potential site of ideological warfare. Silence is decreed as Complicity by those who have made shouting their daily jobs.

The flip side of activism is exhaustion.

Righteousness fuels movements, but it also breeds fatigue. It creates trenches where there were once bridges. It demands that everyone pick a side—every time, on every issue. And what’s worse, it assumes that the side you picked last year is the side you must hold forever.

In this brave new world, changing your mind is weakness. Nuance is betrayal. Saying “I don’t know enough about this to comment” is an abdication of duty.

So we keep shouting.

We keep planting flags.

We keep losing patience.

And somewhere in the noise, an old way of thinking—one that valued reflection over reaction—fades into obscurity.

Because in this world, silence isn’t golden anymore. It’s just another battlefield.