It’s not for the money.
Not for status. Not for the billion dollar fame.
Not for the Silicon Valley dream.
Not because it’s cool, or because my friends are doing it.
For me, a startup is closer to a science lab than a business.
Each problem is a hypothesis.
Each launch, an experiment.
Each failure or success: a data point that brings me closer to a truth.
It’s not about chasing certainty.
It’s about the clarity that comes from facing the facts, whether they confirm or contradict you.
When something works and gets validated: you’ve uncovered a new truth.
When it falls apart: you’ve also uncovered a new truth (and a reason not to try that version again).
Both outcomes are wins. Both are steps in the pursuit of truth.
That’s what'‘s energizing.
Startups let you discover truths, but also create them.
You take a fragile dream, try to shape it into something real, and see how much of it stands in the face of reality, or how far your conviction can bend it.
Why startup?
Because I love building. Not for applause.
I don’t know how to describe it exactly.
It’s that quiet moment when you’re alone in a room: no audience, no expectations, and you’re naturally bound to just try things.
Not because it’s your “passion.”
Not because it’s your “calling.”
But simply because it’s what you like doing, without even realizing it.
To uncover truths by building.
To create something from nothing.
That moment is energizing. Especially when it’s tied to impact you care about: like building for the 90%, the traditional SMEs, the brick-and-mortar freight companies.
Not just the startups or the enterprise giants.
It’s about levelling the playing field for the underdogs.
Even if none of it works out, uncovering just one real truth would make it fulfilling.
Each attempt adds a piece: a sketch, a failure, a breakthrough.
Messy, unfinished, but original and mine.
In the end, it’s more than a startup. It’s a museum of truth.