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Puneet: give up IndiaPolicy and start your company


I got this from one of our close friends. Great example of the guts and
spunk I am always in favor of. I hate staid guys who do other people's
jobs. Leave Intel at once and start your own company which should beat
Intel in about four years 8 months, six days and twenty minutes from now,
as per my best bureaucratic plans and estimates. 

I'll join you as the man with the little stick in an orchestra who waves
the stick about from place to place and contributes nothing to the music
but enthusiasm, guts and the emotion... Those things, plus management,
accounting, economic analysis, marketing, liaison, presentation,
networking, making your web page, etc., etc. You produce the chips and
we'll take over the world!

Let India go to the socialist prigs who can't produce a single chip
including a potato chip. We will make our own life and be rich in this
land of capitalism... If India is not ready for Indians then let the
Indians go where they are welcome.



Silicon Valley's Indian immigrants are moving from the research labs to
the executive suite. Kanwal Rekhi leads the way.  The venture capitalist
from Kanpur By Julie Pitta WHEN KANWAL REKHI paid a visit to Exodus
Communications three years ago, the Internet services outfit was crammed
into a 10-by-10-foot room packed with computers and people. The owner, an
Indian immigrant named K.B.  Chandrasekhar, was not the world's most
focused person. Himself an immigrant from India and a graduate of the
Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay, Rekhi had been invited to invest
in Exodus. "I liked Chandra," Rekhi recalls. "But there were things about
his business plan I hated."  Chandrasekhar and his friends were selling a
smorgasbord of Internet-related products and services. Rekhi wrote a
$200,000 check on the condition that Exodus drop most of its services and
concentrate on only a few. Six months later, with Rekhi's help, Exodus
raised another $3 million.  Today Exodus counts Oracle Corp., CBS
SportsLine and Hewlett-Packard among its customers. After an initial
public offering earlier this year, the company is valued at $556 million.
Four years earlier it had been just a lightbulb in Chandrasekhar's head,
and the founder himself had been in the U.S. only four years.  Rekhi, 52,
made his millions selling his own startup, Excelan, nine years ago. In the
last few years he has become the dominant investor in and sage to Silicon
Valley's affluent Indian community. In the past three years, Rekhi has
funded 12 small companies-all but one started by Indian immigrants.
Already his $5 million initial investment has returned him $20 million,
just from selling parts of the companies he has backed.  Rekhi is a large
and rumpled man with a heavy accent and a rapid-fire delivery. "I'm not
smooth," he says, stating the obvious. The edges may be rough, but the
résumé is impressive: a Master's degree in electrical engineering, two
decades as a hardware designer, founder of a successful startup and,
before striking out as a venture capitalist, board member and chief
technology officer for Novell, Inc. "In a very short time he's become a
very important player," says Novell Chief Executive Eric Schmidt, who
joined the networking softwaremaker after Rekhi's departure. Schmidt
appreciated Rekhi's role in setting up Novell's valuable software
subsidiary in India's high-tech city, Bangalore. Rekhi persuaded Schmidt
to invest in PlaceWare, a company he funded that designs Internet
collaboration software that runs on the Web.  Silicon Valley is a
networking kind of place and, given the number and the prominence of
Indian-born engineers and entrepreneurs, these people constitute a kind of
natural network. Rekhi is at the center of it.  "Kanwal's got a good
nose," says Yogen Dalal, an Indian-born venture capitalist. "When someone
tells me Kanwal's in on a deal, I take a look."  In the nine years since
Rekhi sold Excelan, Indians have moved beyond the engineering ranks into
upper management. More than a dozen Indian immigrants head up prominent
Internet startups. Some have cashed in big: Hotmail cofounder Sabeer
Bhatia probably pocketed $100 million when he sold his Internet mail
service to Microsoft Corp. last year for an estimated $400 million.  The
former conventional wisdom-that Indians were great technical minds but
lousy marketers and executives-no longer holds water.  Many of them, in
addition to holding impressive technical degrees, are honor graduates of
the school of hard knocks. Rekhi's Sikh family fled newly partitioned
Muslim Pakistan with little more than the clothes on their backs and
eventually settled in the Indian city of Kanpur. Rekhi came to the U.S. 
in 1967 to get a Master's degree in electrical engineering at Michigan
Technological University. It might be hard for a member of the class of
1998 to imagine, but there was a time when you had to scramble to survive
in this business. Rekhi was laid off from his first three jobs after
graduate school. "The space program and the war in Vietnam were winding
down," he explains. "It was not a great time to be an engineer."  In 1971
Rekhi packed up his wife, an American-born woman he met through a pen-pal
service, and moved to San Jose for a job at Singer-Link, a subsidiary of
the sewing machine company that made flight simulators.  Eventually bored,
Rekhi left his job to join Zilog, Inc., a microprocessor outfit started by
Federico Faggin, the engineer who co-invented the first popular
microprocessor.  Still restless, a year later Rekhi and two Indian
colleagues started Excelan to build add-in boards to connect desktop
computers into a local area network: Before the company went public in
1987, the backers asked Rekhi to resign as chief executive in favor of
retired Hewlett-Packard executive Richard Moore. "I didn't look the part,"
Rekhi says. "It was explained to me that by hiring Dick, they were
preserving my investment."  That experience explains in part Rekhi's
determination to show that Indians can run companies as well as engineer
them. After Novell bought Excelan, Rekhi joined Novell, but left when he
was passed over for chief executive in favor of Robert Frankenberg.  Rekhi
quit, disillusioned but no longer in any need of a steady job. In earnest,
he began networking with fellow Indians after he became president of Indus
Entrepreneurs, an association organized to help south Asian entrepreneurs. 
Not all of Rekhi's companies have fared as well as Exodus, which netted
him more than $10 million. Intellimatch, an Internet employment service,
and Nirvana, which designed tools for Web site development, flopped. "It
was such a big mismatch between what they said they were going to do and
what they actually delivered," he says. Rekhi's brother, an Intellimatch
founder, has a new venture, but without backing from his brother. With
Rekhi, sentiment comes second, not first. "He [his brother] is not an
entrepreneur," Rekhi says. "Still, I hope he proves me wrong."  Meanwhile,
Rekhi has his hands full with CyberMedia. Three years ago the company
introduced a product to fix bugs in other software packages.  First Aid
was a hit, generating $35 million in revenue during its first year on the
market. A year later the company was in trouble, the victim of
overexpansion. A second product designed to automatically download
software upgrades for Internet sites flopped. Rekhi came in as chairman,
and CyberMedia's chief executive left soon thereafter. "It's important
that I straighten it out," he says. "My reputation is at stake." You get a
sense that he feels the Indian community's reputation is somewhat at
stake, too.