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Childhood & Early Life
I was born in 1981 in Pune, into a traditional middle
class Sindhi family. My father was in
the saree business, like many others in our community. We had a
comfortable life, and as the youngest
child, I was quite pampered.
I was a spoiled child—I had never taken public
transport, never had to think about
money. But everything changed when a dispute between my father and my
uncle forced us out of the family
business. My father had to start from scratch. My mother, who had always been a homemaker, had to contribute
financially. My elder brother, who had
dreams of studying further, had to drop out of school and start working
with my father. It was a reality check
for all of us.
I was around 12 or 13 when I first realized what
financial struggle looked like. I
remember watching my father work tirelessly to rebuild his business, my
mother stretching every rupee, and my
brother taking on responsibilities beyond his years. The carefree childhood I had known was over, and
I had to grow up quickly.
This period instilled a deep sense of independence in
me. I started thinking about what it
meant to earn a living. At the same time, I was discovering something else
about myself—I had a way with words. I
loved talking, and I was good at it. In school, I participated in debates, anchored events, and
read the news. If there was ever an
opportunity to speak in front of a crowd, I took it. I wasn’t just good
academically—I was an all-rounder. I
played cricket, volleyball, swimming, and was actively involved in every extracurricular activity. By the time I
reached high school, I was the perfect Head Boy, leading from the front. Leadership came
naturally to me.
One of the most defining experiences of my teenage years
came when I was selected for an HIV/AIDS
awareness program by UNAIDS. This was 1995-96, and HIV/AIDS was a relatively new topic in India. The government
wanted to spread awareness through
schools, so they trained teachers and students to educate their peers. I
was chosen as the student representative.
My job was to stand in front of my classmates and talk about sex education—a topic that was
completely taboo at the time.
At first, it was uncomfortable. But I learned to push past that. My teacher, who was deeply involved in social work, encouraged me to take it further. Soon, I was giving these lectures in Marathi in rural Maharashtra, reaching people who had no access to this kind of information. That experience planted a seed in me—the seed of teaching, of sharing knowledge, of helping people upgrade themselves. At the time, I didn’t know how important that realization was going to be.
Career Journey & Transition into Acting
After school, I had a strong academic record, scoring
89% in PCB. I had initially wanted to be
a surgeon, but patience wasn’t my strong suit. I wasn’t cut out for years of
medical studies and residency. I wanted
results, and I wanted them fast. So, I started exploring other career options.
College was a time of self-discovery. I was always
confident, loved public speaking, and
thrived in social settings. This naturally led me to cultural events and
fashion shows. One thing led to another,
and I decided to try my luck at the Mr. Pune competition. Winning that opened new doors—I started
modeling, doing catalog shoots, and
appearing in print ads and posters. The glamour world fascinated me, and
I knew I wanted more.
But my family had different expectations. After college,
I was supposed to join the family
business, which I did—but only for four months. I had constant
disagreements with my brother, and the
idea of selling sarees didn’t excite me. I was restless, craving something bigger, something that aligned with
my ambitions. That’s when I made the
bold decision to leave everything behind and move to Mumbai, the city of
dreams.
Mumbai was not kind in the beginning. The competition
was fierce, and the city was expensive.
I had no godfather, no industry connections—just an intense drive to prove myself. I needed to survive, so I took up a
job at a call center, working night shifts for
₹15,000 a month. It was exhausting—sleepless nights on customer support
calls, followed by full days of
auditions and rejections. I spent hours outside casting studios, sometimes waiting the whole day for a
five-minute audition. The reality of the industry was brutal—one day, you’d feel like you were
on the verge of something big, and the next
day, you’d be forgotten.
After three months of relentless effort, I finally
cracked an audition and landed my first
role. It was a small part, but it was a start. From there, opportunities
slowly started coming in. Between 2002
and 2009, I acted in numerous television serials across major channels like Zee TV, Sony, Sahara, and more.
Unlike the glamour people associate with
acting, the reality was grueling. Call times were unpredictable, shoots
lasted for 12-14 hours a day, and the
pressure to deliver was immense. I played a variety of roles, from supporting characters to parallel leads. Some
shows did well, some didn’t. There were
times I’d work for months on a show, only for it to be pulled off-air
because of low TRPs. It was a cycle of
highs and lows—one show would end, and the struggle to get the next one would begin.
Despite the uncertainties, acting was exhilarating. The
thrill of being on set, the energy of
live shoots, and the excitement of seeing yourself on television—it was
addictive. I enjoyed playing different
characters, understanding human emotions, and bringing stories to life. One of the best things that
happened during this phase of my life was
meeting my wife, Shweta. We met on a show, and something clicked
instantly. She understood the struggles
of the industry, the unpredictability, and the emotional toll it took. We fell in love, and in 2007, we got married.
Marriage brought a new perspective.
Until then, I was living the classic Mumbai struggler life—paycheck to
paycheck, taking each project as it
came, and constantly chasing the next big role. But after marriage, I started thinking long-term. I realized I was
making a living, but I wasn’t building a future.
Television paid decently, but unless you became an
A-list star, it wasn’t enough to sustain
a long-term career. I was earning, but not at the level where I could
comfortably afford the kind of life I
wanted—owning a big house, driving a luxury car, having financial security. I had to be practical. I saw fellow
actors who had been in the industry for
decades but were still struggling, still waiting for their next big
break. I knew I didn’t want to be in
that position ten years down the line.
So, I made a difficult decision—I stepped away from acting. I moved back to Pune and rejoined the family business, this time with a fresh perspective and renewed determination. Leaving Mumbai was bittersweet. Acting had given me unforgettable experiences, lifelong friendships, and even my life partner. But it had also taught me resilience, patience, and the importance of financial independence. I didn’t leave the entertainment industry with regrets—I left with valuable lessons that would shape the next phase of my life.
The Birth of Digital Marketing Training
When I made the decision to leave acting behind and
return to Pune, I knew I couldn’t go
back to being the same person I was before. I wasn’t the same. Mumbai
had changed me. The years of struggle in
the entertainment industry had given me resilience, patience, and a newfound ability to read
people and situations better. But the biggest
lesson I took away from that phase was the need for financial stability.
Acting had taught me that passion alone
wasn’t enough—you needed a strong foundation, a plan, and a long-term vision. Without financial
independence, dreams could turn into
nightmares. I had seen too many people in Mumbai—talented,
hardworking, passionate—who were still
waiting for their big break even after 10-15 years. I didn’t want to be another person stuck in that
endless cycle. I needed to build something solid, something sustainable.
So, when I moved back to Pune, I rejoined my father and
brother in the family business. The
saree business was still running, but I could see that it needed a fresh
approach. The world was changing, and I
knew that if we didn’t adapt, we would be left behind.
I immersed myself completely in the business. I wasn’t
just another son returning to take over
a legacy—I was there to transform it. I spent hours understanding supply chains, studying customer behavior, and
analyzing our operations. My experience in
Mumbai had sharpened my instincts. I had learned how to sell ideas, how
to market myself, and how to connect
with an audience. Now, I just had to apply those same principles to the business.
Within a few years, we expanded rapidly. By 2018, we had
five stores and were doing well financially.
We weren’t just selling sarees anymore—we were running an empire. Every aspect of the business had been
optimized, from inventory management to
customer experience. Things were looking great. And then, everything
changed.
First came demonetization. The sudden shift in the
economy hit small and medium businesses
hard. Then came GST, which brought new tax regulations that required us to completely change our accounting and pricing
strategies. We managed to adapt, but the
biggest blow was yet to come—COVID-19.
When the pandemic hit in 2020, it was unlike anything we
had ever experienced. Stores were shut
overnight. Customers disappeared. Sales plummeted. For the first time in years, I found myself questioning everything.
We had built this massive business, but
what was the point if it could be wiped out so easily?
That’s when I realized: I needed to upgrade myself.
During the lockdown, I was living in Satara, a small
town between Pune and Bangalore. One
evening, I stepped out onto the highway and saw hundreds of migrant
workers walking back home. They had lost
their jobs and had no way to survive in the cities. They were walking thousands of kilometers,
with nothing but a few belongings in plastic
bags. They were exhausted, starving, and desperate. The sight of them
shook me.
I had knowledge, but what was I doing with it? That night, something clicked in me. I had
been spending my time worrying about how
to save our business, but what if I could do something more? What if I
could use my skills to help others?
That’s when I started giving free digital marketing
classes. Every night from 9 to 10:30 PM,
I would teach people online. I didn’t charge a rupee. I just wanted to help. I
started with my friends, family, and
acquaintances, sending out a simple WhatsApp broadcast: “I’m teaching digital marketing for free.
Join if you want to learn.”
People started showing up. At first, it was just a
handful. Then, word spread. More people
joined. Before I knew it, I had over 100 attendees every night. I taught
them everything—how to build an online
presence, how to market products, how to generate leads, and how to sell online.
Then, something unexpected happened. On the last day of
one of my sessions, a few participants
asked if they could get recordings of the classes. I told them, “The recordings aren’t free. They are paid.” I
didn’t expect much, but within 15 minutes, I
received a good amount of money in payments. That was my lightbulb
moment.
I realized that digital marketing wasn’t just a tool—it
was the future. Businesses were
struggling because they weren’t adapting. People were jobless because
they didn’t have digital skills. If I
could teach people how to use the internet to build something for themselves, I could change lives. From that
moment, there was no looking back.
I threw myself into digital marketing full-time. I
started refining my course, creating
structured lessons, and setting up proper webinar systems. Instead of
just teaching for free, I built a
business model around it. I introduced paid courses, mentorship programs, and a step-by-step system to help people
start their own digital ventures.
At the same time, I had to balance my responsibilities
in the saree business. Initially, I kept
my webinars limited to Sundays so that I could manage both. But as my
digital business grew, I increased my
frequency. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday became my webinar days. More people were enrolling.
More success stories were emerging.
Eventually, my digital business became my primary focus.
Today, I spend 90% of my time teaching
and mentoring, while my father and brother manage the saree business. We have structured teams in place, and the
business continues to run smoothly.
I named my digital education platform Digital Azadi—because,
for me, this wasn’t just about
marketing. It was about freedom. The freedom to build something of your own,
to be financially independent, to create
a life on your own terms. That’s what I wanted to give people.
Over 25,000 students have enrolled in my courses, and I’ve built a strong online community through YouTube, Instagram, and webinars. I’ve seen people who were once struggling to make ends meet now running their own online businesses, generating consistent income, and transforming their lives.
Personal Takeaways & Future Vision
The world is changing. Businesses that don’t adapt will
become obsolete. AI is transforming
everything—marketing, education, and commerce. The internet is no longer just a tool; it’s an entire economy.
And the biggest mistake anyone can make
today is thinking that the old ways will still work tomorrow.
In the coming years, I want to take Digital Azadi beyond
just courses. I want to build an
ecosystem where learning meets execution. Where people don’t just learn
digital skills but apply them in
real-time, working on live projects, building their own ventures, and scaling them to success.
I also see AI playing a huge role in shaping the future
of digital entrepreneurship. I want to
integrate AI-driven tools and automation systems into my teachings, making it
easier for people to run businesses
online with minimal technical know-how.
Beyond that, I want to expand into regional markets.
There are thousands of entrepreneurs in
smaller cities and villages who are still untouched by digital marketing. They have businesses, ideas, and talent—but
they lack the knowledge to scale. I want to
bring Digital Azadi to them, teaching in multiple languages, making
digital entrepreneurship accessible to every
corner of India.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: if something isn’t working, change it. Don’t fear chaos. Every time I have disrupted my life—whether by leaving a stable career, taking a risky decision, or shifting to a completely new industry—I have come out stronger. Adaptability is the ultimate survival skill. The future belongs to those who are willing to reinvent themselves. And I’m just getting started.