In 2007, they began by distributing coupons. Soon, they turned this into a daily deals website. Finally in 2011, they moved into e-commerce. Such dramatic shifts in the business may have seemed implausible and suspect, but Kunal had little trouble in convincing investors to back him. He was a slick talker, a master of PR. In meetings with journalists, Kunal would make it a point to talk about two elements of his life: his schooling at Delhi Public School – the R. K. Puram branch – ‘the only DPS that matters’, and how he had bravely overcome the denial of a visa extension in the US. Kunal’s mannerisms and personality made a mark; he often broke out in guffaws, not unlike Jeff Bezos. He relished the spotlight that came along with Snapdeal’s rise; his Twitter handle read: ‘Entrepreneur. Maybe Politics.’7
Kunal stood out in an e-commerce ecosystem populated by introverted software engineers such as the Bansals – Sachin, Binny, and even Rohit. In fact, Snapdeal’s shiftto e-commerce had made Rohit feel a bit awkward. It put him in direct opposition to Binny, who had been his classmate at IIT Delhi. In their first year of college, they had even been close friends. When Snapdeal entered e-commerce in late 2011, it chose the marketplace model – the goods listed on its site were owned by third-party merchants; the company didn’t have inventory of its own the way Flipkart did. Over the next five years, Snapdeal would be a constant irritant for Flipkart and Kunal would become a bitter opponent to Sachin. Every time it seemed certain that Snapdeal would run out of cash, Kunal would miraculously pull off a fund raise. Snapdeal came to be known as The Cat With Nine Lives.
There was also Myntra, which had been funded by Tiger Global and Accel Partners as well. Myntra had started life in 2007 as a seller of personalized gifts. In 2011, Myntra changed its business to become a fashion-selling website. Its co-founder and CEO Mukesh Bansal was familiar with Sachin and Binny. They had known each other since 2007. Mukesh’s startup had, in fact, received funding from Accel Partners more than a year before Flipkart did. Despite having less capital in the years to come, Myntra would stay ahead of Flipkart’s fashion business for nearly three years.
As Indian e-commerce startups struggled in 2011 because of the funding slowdown, Amazon made its first concrete move to enter the market. In early 2012, Amazon launched Junglee, a price comparison website (of the kind Sachin and Binny had initially wanted to launch in 2007).8 The purpose of launching Junglee was to supply Amazon with important information about the shopping habits of Indians. Amazon would use this knowledge later to plan its own e-commerce business in the country. The launch of Junglee further unnerved investors in local startups.
AROUND THE TIME of the Letsbuy acquisition, Flipkart tweaked its hierarchy again. It hired a new chief financial officer, Karandeep Singh. Karan, a soft-spoken Sikh chartered accountant, was an accomplished finance leader; he had worked in senior finance positions at large companies including Yum Brands and Dell. In his early forties, he came to Flipkart as one of its oldest employees.
The company also asked Ankit Nagori, who was heading its books and digital business, to take over all product categories. He would continue to report to Sujeet Kumar. It was yet another significant promotion for Ankit. Along with his inexhaustible stamina, Ankit had also displayed impressive business acumen as well as the cunning to get ahead of other shrewd, ambitious men, most of whom were older than him.
Ankit’s promotion further strengthened Sujeet’s hold over the company. He now wielded complete control over Flipkart’s operations and sales through his lieutenants. Sujeet, too, had joined Flipkart as an unaccomplished young man. It had been an exhilarating ride for him. After Sachin and Binny, and apart from the institutional investors, he was the biggest shareholder in the company. The financial reward was huge. But Flipkart was special to Sujeet for another reason: he had made something of himself there, as had Ankit and hundreds of others.
In January 2012, Sujeet got married. As was his wont, he invited ‘half of Flipkart’. The baraat lasted for hours; the dancing wouldn’t stop. Sachin, Binny and many Flipkart employees came together to participate in the revelries. This was a rare moment of camaraderie in a year that would eventually see its demise.
12
NO RESPITE
Flipkart had received significant media coverage by 2012, and almost all of it had been favourable. Business dailies, magazines and TV channels had named the company one of India’s most promising startups. But beyond the obvious facts, internet businesses like Flipkart and the accompanying venture capital space weren’t well understood. One reporter took it upon himself to change this in spectacular fashion.
Earlier that year, Flipkart was approached by Forbes for a cover story on the company. The Forbes reporter, Rohin Dharmakumar, was on friendly terms with Flipkart’s newly appointed communications head, Karthik Srinivasan. Rohin had made an unusual entry into journalism. An engineer with a business degree from IIM Ahmedabad, he had worked as a business analyst at a consulting firm and made partner at the public relations firm Genesis Burson-Marsteller.1 In 2008, he joined Forbes, which was entering India through a partnership with the local media group Network18, to write on technology, media and telecoms. In India, Forbes had acquired a reputation for publishing well-researched, hard-hitting stories. Rohin persuaded Karthik to give him access to
