The Plan

In 1970, India's electronics sector was still in its infancy. The industry was heavily regulated, with strict government control and a reliance on foreign imports. While policymakers had started recognizing the potential of electronics, the infrastructure for large-scale production was practically nonexistent. Rudra knew that setting up a manufacturing plant for electronic calculators would be a monumental challenge. Yet, with his knowledge of modern technology and an understanding of India's economic landscape, he also saw a rare opportunity.

Rudra's first realization was that he couldn't build this industry alone. Talent was the biggest constraint. Electronics engineering was a relatively new field in India, and very few institutions were offering specialized courses in the subject. Most engineers were trained in electrical or mechanical disciplines, with only a handful having exposure to modern electronics. However, he knew where to look for talent.

The Indian Institutes of Technology (IITs) were already producing some of the country's brightest minds. Among them, IIT Delhi, which had opened in 1961, had a specialization in electronics, making it an obvious source of skilled graduates. IIT Kanpur, on the other hand, had started offering courses in computer science, which meant it had students familiar with digital logic and computing fundamentals. Rudra saw potential here—he could tap into these institutes for recruitment. However, attracting the best minds wouldn't be easy. A startup in an unproven industry would struggle to compete with government-backed research jobs or foreign opportunities.

Beyond talent, the next major hurdle was infrastructure. India had very few well-equipped electronics research laboratories. Unlike in the West, where companies like IBM and Texas Instruments had cutting-edge R&D facilities, Indian firms lacked both the expertise and the capital to build state-of-the-art labs. This meant that simply setting up a factory wouldn't be enough—he would also need a dedicated research facility. The cost of setting up even a basic semiconductor fabrication lab ran into millions of rupees, and obtaining sophisticated equipment from abroad would be a logistical nightmare due to import restrictions.

Rudra understood that government support could ease some of these issues. India's government was already showing interest in indigenous electronics, evidenced by the establishment of Electronics Corporation of India Limited (ECIL) in 1967 under the leadership of A.S. Rao. The government wanted to reduce dependence on foreign technology, especially in strategic sectors like defense and telecommunications. If Rudra could position his venture as part of this broader goal, he might be able to secure funding or policy support.

However, this came with risks. Accepting government backing meant operating under bureaucratic constraints and political influence. Rudra had no intention of becoming a pawn in government-controlled industries. His ambitions extended beyond just being a businessman—he wanted control, independence, and the ability to shape India's future. If he relied too much on the state now, he might find his hands tied when it came to making bold decisions later.

One of Rudra's biggest advantages was his modern knowledge of industry trends. He didn't just want to build calculators; he wanted to build an ecosystem—like how James Watt commercialized the steam engine or how Thomas Edison dominated the electrical industry. For this, he needed not just skilled engineers but visionary thinkers who could push the boundaries of Indian electronics.

India already had pioneers in the field of electronics, and Rudra began identifying key figures who could be instrumental in his journey. Vikram Sarabhai, the father of India's space program, had founded institutions like ECIL and was a driving force behind indigenous electronics production. A.S. Rao, the man behind ECIL, had experience in manufacturing India's first computers and control systems. Then there was C.N.R. Rao, a leading scientist in materials science and semiconductor research. Rudra realized that semiconductor research would be crucial for the long-term success of his company, making C.N.R. Rao an ideal candidate to approach.

Out of these, Vikram Sarabhai was too closely tied to government projects, and A.S. Rao was already leading ECIL, making them difficult to recruit. However, C.N.R. Rao was a more viable option. At the time, C.N.R. Rao was working at IIT Kanpur, having previously studied in the U.S. at Purdue University. He was young, ambitious, and deeply invested in scientific research. If Rudra could convince him to collaborate, it would give his venture a massive intellectual boost. But what could he offer a scientist of Rao's caliber?

Rudra knew that money alone wouldn't be enough. Scientists like Rao were driven by the desire to push boundaries, to conduct world-class research without bureaucratic interference. This was where Rudra had an edge over government-backed projects—he could promise Rao complete research freedom, funding for cutting-edge semiconductor research, and an opportunity to build something groundbreaking. However, approaching an esteemed academic required careful strategy. He couldn't just walk into Rao's office and expect an immediate 'yes.' He needed credibility. One way to do this was by securing endorsements from leading industrialists.

If he wanted to manufacture calculators, he needed a strong financial base. India's major industrialists, like J.R.D. Tata, G.D. Birla, and Lala Shri Ram, had the resources and influence to back such a project. The challenge was convincing them that investing in an electronics company was worth the risk. At the time, most Indian businesses were focused on textiles, steel, and heavy machinery—electronics was an untested industry.

Rudra decided his pitch would revolve around India's growing need for automation and computing. With the right backing, he could manufacture not just calculators but later expand into larger computing systems, a market that was bound to explode in the coming decades. The problem was that Indian industrialists were notoriously risk-averse, and unlike in the U.S., where venture capital was growing, India had no equivalent ecosystem to support high-tech startups.

To counter this, Rudra planned a two-pronged approach: leverage patriotism by positioning his venture as a step toward making India technologically self-reliant, and show financial viability by highlighting how Japan and the U.S. were rapidly expanding their electronics industries and how India could follow suit.

A key question was where to set up the manufacturing facility. The ideal location needed to have access to skilled labor, good transportation infrastructure, and supportive state policies, including tax incentives, land availability, and industrial backing. Based on these factors, Rudra narrowed down potential locations. Bangalore was already emerging as a hub for scientific research and home to institutions like IISc. Pune was a growing industrial city with proximity to Mumbai's financial network. Chennai had a strong industrial base and access to the port for possible future exports. Delhi NCR was close to IIT Delhi and government policymakers, but bureaucratic hurdles could be high.

Bangalore seemed like the best bet. It had a growing tech ecosystem and was already housing major government research institutions.

Now, Rudra had the beginnings of a plan. Secure backing from an industrialist to lend credibility. Recruit C.N.R. Rao to head R&D. Establish Bangalore as the manufacturing base. Use nationalism as a selling point to gain investor and policy support.

With these steps in mind, he was ready to start reaching out to the key players. But he knew that this journey wouldn't be easy. He was about to challenge an industry dominated by foreign giants while battling bureaucratic red tape and industrial skepticism.

But that was precisely what made the challenge worth it.

For Rudra, this wasn't just about building a business—it was about shaping India's technological future.