Dear Friend:

Two patients need blood in Mumbai every minute. Mumbai needs over one million units of blood every year, but has a shortfall of 400,000 units. With 16 million people in Mumbai, less than 5% of all eligible donors have actually donated blood, ever. Mumbai has the largest number of blood banks in India, yet most people do not show up at blood donation camps simply because of inconvenience or fear of needles. If you donate blood once every 90 days, between the age of 17 to 55, you alone can save over 400 lives.

Blood is needed by accident victims, organ transplant patients, cancer & heart patients, and those suffering from HIV, anemia, leukemia and other blood ailments. In an emergency situation, the blood used is always from the stock available on the shelves before the event occurs. Mumbai is no alien to natural or man-made calamities. Yet, most people step forward to donate only after an unfortunate tragedy has passed. Mumbai has some of the highest numbers of victims and patients in the country. Hospitals and blood banks across the city constantly need blood and platelets across all groups.

An hour of your time can save up to 3 lives. But that is not the only reason for you to give us that hour on Wednesday, July 1 at Rotary Service Center on Juhu Tara Road (near SNDT college). Here are four more:

* You would get a certificate that entitles you to a unit of blood from GD Goenka Blood Bank when in need
* You would get a wall clock telling your friends for years to come that you donated blood
* You would join actors Paresh Rawal and former miss India Swaroop Sampat in this initiative
* You would instantly lose 1KG of weight and gain a few inches of self-esteem

Juice and biscuits would be served, and if you call 922-222-1947 to RSVP and tell us the time that is convenient to you, we can arrange for your transportation as well. Please mark your attendance on the Facebook event. If you cannot make it to the event yourself for any reason, the least you can do is pass this along as an e-mail to your friends who can.

Here’s wishing you good health!

Rotary Club of Bombay West
Inner Wheel Club of Bombay West
Rotaract Club of NM College, Mithibai College, Andheri and Bombay West
Chaupaati Bazaar 922-222-1947

Mohammad Rafiq is the sole bread winner of a family of five: his wife, 3 kids and him. “I started my little shop in 2008. I am in a limited area in the middle of 1,000-2,000 jhopdas (huts). Before Chaupaati, I sold 2-5 computers in the neighbourhood”. Besides selling assembled computers to slumdwellers and low-income customers, Rafiq also trades computer parts, offers repair services and computer education & training to youngsters in his slum. Before meeting Chaupaati, he did not get customers from outside the slum.

“God had his way and someone from Chaupaati visited me here and told me that he would get me new business through SMS. His words immediately stuck in my head.” Rafiq bought the cheapest available trial plan from Chaupaati and got 20 contacts within a period of a week. Out of these, a couple of youngsters from Virar (30 km north of Andheri) found Rafiq’s deal too good to be true and showed up at his shop. They took home two computers, on which Rafiq made a profit of Rs.500 each. After a week, he sold another at Rs.700 profit. He had now made more than 3x return on his investment in Chaupaati. Then he bought the monthly plan and closed 4 more deals: “Mira Road, Sion, Kandivali East and Kandivali West”. He is now a subscriber for our yearly plan, whose plan value is 50 times the value of his original trial plan; and with this, Rafiq expects to do 100x more business within the year!

“Dial Karo tried to sell me a plan for a much cheaper price than Chaupaati and said they would start my service within 3 days”, says Rafiq, “but now I am familiar with Chaupaati and I like that they always started sending me contacts from the very first day. I am satisfied with Chaupaati and I trust them.” He has no reason to try another service when Chaupaati is exceeding his service capacity faster than he can scale it. Rafiq succintly concludes “For me, it’s all about fresh sms, fresh call, fresh deal“.

Customers like Mohammad Rafiq help us fulfill our dream of empowering the small entrepreneur and give him a level field to compete with bigger businesses on the basis of his merit.

A 2007 report by Toxicslink mentions how Mumbai generates 19,000 Tonnes of e-waste per year, and yet imports furthermore. In the heart of Jari Mari Industrial Area in Mumbai is Saki Naka, the focal point of electronic waste trade in India and the centre of a large low-income slum area. There are approximately 100 shops of computer waste located in Teen Number Khadi (Bay No. 3). Kurla, Kamathipura-Grant Road, Jogeshwari and Malad are other centers for computer waste in Mumbai. Entrepreneurs with the capability to scavenge, salvage and re-engineer products out of e-waste have created a vibrant economy of unorganized retail for computers and consumer durables across Mumbai. Hundreds of such retailers use Chaupaati as a medium to reach tens of thousands of consumers across Mumbai, many of whom are located in slums in the same areas.

Sayed Asad, owner of Best Computer Solutions, is headquartered in a prime location in Saki Naka. He purchases old computers, laptops and printers from leading banks and corporations, then re-furbishes and upgrades them with multimedia and entertainment capabilities, then offers them at unbelievable prices for education, home and office use. He provides replacement warranty for all his products and has broken a price barrier that no one in Mumbai is able to match, especially for entry-level configurations. He has 10 branches across Mumbai and 25 full-time engineers. Sayed says, “Now we are proud we made it easy for all to purchase computers.”

When Sayed first heard about Chaupaati on June 15, 2008 (10 days before Chaupaati launched), he was immediately convinced because of our focus on second-hand products, and he is one of the best in the business for old computers. Sayed Asad was one of the first dealers to advertise his deals on Chaupaati and then went on to be a party to Chaupaati’s first known phone pe deal on July 4, 2008, within 4 days of launch.

Since then, Sayed has acquired over 1,000 customers from Chaupaati and he says “For every 100 inquiries received from Chaupaati, at least 25% get developed into deals”, and says “we have been able to build a brand across Mumbai. Since we joined, Chaupaati has resulted in significant growth in business development for us.” Compared to newspapers, Internet, flyers and other media, he finds mobile as the fastest and best medium for interaction. After a customer is generated, “we get an immediate alert by SMS. This is followed up with a quick conversation, prompt visit, and fast deal.” Chaupaati has sent him inquiries from all corners of Mumbai (Vashi - Eastern corner, Vasai/Virar - Northern corner, Colaba - Southern Corner) and the customer profiles include low-income, middle-class as well as corporate buyers.

It is customers like Sayed Asad that help us fulfill the promise of “best deals in Mumbai” for computers.

From the time Chaupaati started, we have always felt that our eventual success would NOT rely on how much of the market we are able to capture, but what market we are able to create. Mobilizing an existing market is not as attractive for start-ups, as fulfilling a latent need. Solving solved problems is not as interesting as solving an unsolved problem. Though we are miles away from being disruptive innovators (addressing non-consumption), we discovered some early signs of fulfilling a latent need, not entirely by design.

One of our regular customers Rakesh Rane, a computer dealer from Lamington Road said to Kiran Patil, Chaupaati’s head of sales: “Yaar tumhare buyers non-serious hote hain, lekin unke saath deal hoti hai.” (Your buyers are non-serious, but they convert to a sale). Kiran was stumped by the irony. Isn’t conversion the only criteria for lead quality! He pealed the onion, however, and connected the dots for us.

The way Chaupaati works is that we advertise hot deals across categories using a variety of media - print, SMS, flyers, online, etc. Consumers call 922-222-1947 and a representative directs those callers to their favorite deals within their locality, budget and feature preferences. Many of our deals appeal to consumers who have not yet made up their minds about buying a product, are usually first time buyers for those products, are attracted by a too-good-to-be-true deal and call us to learn more.

To Rakesh Rane who has advertised his deals on Chaupaati and also advertised his business in a yellow pages, the lead received from Chaupaati is quite different from the one received from the talking yellow pages companies. In case of Chaupaati, the consumer with a latent need asks stupid questions about the computer and does not know what to ask. This consumer wants to be told and sold. In the other case, the consumer with a specific need asks pointed questions (that she is also asking 7 other similar businesses in the list) and is a savvy comparitive shopper. This consumer wants to ask and task. For this customer, one of five Chaupaati leads converts to a sale, whereas one in thirty five yellow-pages leads converts to a sale.

Of course, we continue to figure out how to address the savvy consumer, and whether the higher conversions are a result of the tender-love-and-affection of a small company or is it a product flow that works. We would love to hear your thoughts.

I went to a multiplex last week to watch a movie. Unlike any other movie, this one was special, not because it was a Shahrukh Khan movie, but I saw a new trend in the sale of snacks at movie halls.  As soon as I entered the hall, I saw a couple of young men holding popcorn and pancake trays, held by a string which went round their neck. They were going seat to seat to sell the items. When I looked at one of them, as expected, he came towards me and walked past me to explore the chances of a sale. It should be noted that this multiplex is owned by a media company headed by one of the richest Indians.

When we look at the unorganized retail in India, the numerous shops in the street, the thela-walas shouting on the road, the numerous hawkers occupying the footpaths, poor homeless people, especially small kids on red light signals, hawkers at bus terminals and railway stations across the country, many of us tend to have an immediate reaction - how primitive is retail in India?

If the conventional Indian retail is so primitive, why do low cost airlines sell tea, coffee and sandwiches in the airline, exactly the way hawkers sell food in bus and trains? Why do the IRCTC contractors sell food in trains exactly the way individual hawkers sell food in train - seat to seat? Why did the multiplex start selling popcorn and pancakes inside the hall?

We, at Chaupaati, believe that the conventional Indian retail is not primitive. In India, you can buy 5 pieces of nails. There are many shops where you can buy goods worth 50 paise. This makes the Indian retail industry quite competitive in nature than any other retail network, leading to innovative ways of selling.

It will not be surprising if, some day, you see large brands selling their products on traffic signals. Ultimately, with proper legal approvals, it makes lot of sense to save your real estate and AC costs, reach to the customer instead of asking her to come to you, and reach to her when she has nothing else to do. The small kids selling flowers have already understood this.

“250 rupees for all three bundles,”

“I just want one. How much?”

I was bargaining for a bundle of white lilies wrapped in cellophane paper at a traffic signal outside the J W Marriott in Bombay. A lovely fragrance wafted from the flowers and mixed with the humid breeze that blew from the ocean.

“120 last price,”

“20 rupees,” I told the kid. 10 years old. Barefoot, ragged clothes. I don’t think he ever saw school.

“20 is what we buy the flowers for, Sir,” he slipped. “Give me 60 rupees.”

“Waah, you buy these for 20 and want to sell them for 120. Profit 100 rupees?” the auto-wala turned around and chipped in.

The kid gave him a stare which did not fail to tell him buzz-off-mind-your-own-business. The digital clock on the traffic signal ahead was ticking away … 20, 19, 18 … I knew and the auto-wala knew and the kid knew. If we did not close this deal in another 15 seconds, the Honda Accord behind us would honk so hard, it would blow our eardrums. 17, 16, 15 …

“Give me 45. Look at them … nice and fresh. 45.” The flower kid knew his stuff. He was reading my body language and was responding with an offer. He was timing it well. He had got me indulged. “40 is a good price for this bouquet,” I thought to myself. “Nice brownie points I will pick up at home.”

“20 rupees. It’s a daily for me,” I said aloud putting up a stern face.

“35,”

Thirty five rupees was lesser than what I had decided I would pay. Now was the time to pull out the money and grab the bouquet. A nice fresh bundle of white fragrant lillies wrapped in a cellophane paper. I would pay a bomb for this had I walked into a flower shop.

5,  4,  3 …

But at that moment, I decided to play a little harder.

“No, no. 20 rupees,” I told the kid. And regretted my offer that very moment.

2, 3, 1. The red light turned green. The kid did himself a huge favour and walked away. The Honda Accord honked. My auto-wala shifted gears and we rolled on.

In those 30 seconds and a Rs. 35 non-deal, I learnt what my five year education did not teach me. The flower kid faked an offer. When he was caught, he quickly corrected it. He got me indulged, he read my body language and he responded well. He responded quickly. And he walked away at the right time. And he walked away like he had nothing to lose. Had he not walked on me, I would have offered Rs. 20 for all flower bouquets every time I saw him or his friends at a traffic signal.

Deal or no-deal? From trying to sell a second hand cell phone to negotiations with a VC; from talks on salary offer to haggling for an antique - a deal and a no-deal are separated by a few seconds, few rupees, few moves.

July 2008: In aggregate, Paan walas are arguably the largest retailers of India, by daily volume of customers and by country-wide reach/penetration. Several large organized retailers of India rely on the paan-walas for their last-mile distribution and therefore their business. You are more likely to find a paan shop on an Indian street than toilets, drinking water or aspirin. Here is a paan wala in Kurla (Mumbai) trying to read the deals advertised on a Chaupaati leaflet while one of his 1,000 daily customers distracts him with a 10 rupee note.

Chaupaati executives visit shopkeepers who have been power users of the Chaupaati service and have connected with several potential buyers through Chaupaati. We try to get candid feedback about their experiences. Here are insights from interviews with three shopkeepers in Ghatkopar; dealing in motorbikes, mobile phones and computers respectively.

Kalpesh Thakur, Auto Smart, Chirag Nagar, Ghatkopar (W): Kalpesh is a dealer in new and second-hand bikes. Kalpesh has listed 15 bikes on Chaupaati in the last month, and has connected with 36 buyers till date (out of 66 leads sent). Our visit was triggered by his complaint to our call center agent that the buyers do not respond to his phone calls. Upon meeting Kalpesh, we discovered that he has a strong preference for connecting with individuals (not dealers) for both buying and selling second hand bikes. He doesn’t particularly care if those individuals are in his locality or not. In fact, he uses Chaupaati to get an edge over other dealers in his neighbourhood, and wants to connect with new deals that are otherwise out-of-reach. When selling a bike, he believes that the buyer is only valuable when he visits the shop (10 Chaupaati buyers visited) and NOT valuable once he walks out of the door without a purchase. After that point, he considers the deal as lost. When buying a bike, however, he does it in two trips: one for on-site inspection (by his employee), and the second one to strike the deal (himself) and drive back with the bike. The Chaupaati flyer was pinned on the soft-board at his desk; most of his friends have heard about Chaupaati from other sources as well, and know him as a dealer listed on Chaupaati. He will continue using the service, but is impatient (as are we) to close his first deal. That one deal will make him a believer.

Kishore Joshi, Rajal Mobile Shop, Ghatkopar (W): Kishore owns a mobile store on a busy Ghatkopar street. In the 10 minutes that we were at his shop, while he provided us feedback; he sold a Tata phone with service contract, recharged a pre-paid Airtel phone with Rs. 50/-, replaced a headphone for a Nokia music phone, accepted a second hand Nokia from a customer to try and find buyers for it, and checked the availability of the display unit of a recent Nokia handset! His items are low value (under Rs. 3,000) but fast moving. He listed 11 items on Chaupaati, out of which 8 were sold elsewhere within a week of listing. He finds the service useful and would continue using it, though he has not done a deal through Chaupaati yet. He has 2 Chaupaati buyers in the pipeline who are negotiating with him over the phone. One buyer visited but did not buy. Kishore strongly prefers local buyers only, and does not want to waste any time on buyers outside the locality. They are usually cheapskates distracting him by making offers to buy at unrealistically low prices.

Ajit Yadav, Om Infotech, Bhatwadi, Ghatkopar (W): Ajit is a certified software professional who owns three computer stores in Ghatkopar doing everything from LAN network set-ups to selling assembled computers with second hand parts. He has listed 9 items on Chaupaati, the most popular listings being a couple of configurations for assembled computers at Rs. 8,000 and Rs. 10,000. He has connected with 116 potential buyers, and he thought 90% of them were valuable! He claims to have sold 2 computer monitors and 1 assembled PC to Chaupaati buyers, though we have reasons to believe that the number is higher. He is extremely pleased with Chaupaati and is a fan of the system we have built. His only complaint is that he would like to receive unlimited leads without having to think about paying per lead (viz. monthly or annual subscription package). In the past, Ajit has tried yellow pages, pink pages (a localized tender process), and online classifieds. He finds the Chaupaati system way more valuable than those options.

We are doing a larger round of phone interviews (with individuals as well), and hope to cover a larger customer base than with personal visits alone. We will keep sharing the learnings and insights on this blog from time to time. An interesting insight in the initial phone calls is that the sellers are quite forgiving so far due to the monsoons, and believe that more conversions would happen once the rains subside and customers are ready to buy in the festive season.

A street scene from our test market as we blend ourselves into Bombay rains, double deckers and dabbawalas.

When: 23 May 2008
Where: L&T to Kandivili, Mumbai
Who: Autowalah; lives in a chawl in Borivili; family back in Jharkhand

I was waiting for my colleague Zubin in an auto rickshaw by the roadside. We had decided to meet at L&T junction and he was still a good ten minutes away. I shuffled through my backpack and pulled out the iPod. Just when I was about to plug the earphones, the autowalah turned around and smiled at me.

‘Do you own this rickshaw?’ I asked him casually.

‘Yes. I figured a couple of things out. If you want to live in Bombay, buy yourself a place. If you want to earn money driving an auto, buy yourself one. I start at 7am, drive around the city, finish at 10pm, make about 800 rupees, go home and sleep.’

He was the talkative type. ‘Where do you live?’ I asked him still searching the artists list for Pink Floyd.

‘Borivili.’

‘Chawl?’

‘Yes. Chawl. I’d bought a room for Rs. 60,000. The previous owner needed money to get his daughter married. Now the builders keep coming for the place. I don’t want to sell. But if everyone is selling, I will sell too. I think I can get about 6-8 lakh for my room now. It’s a 20×10. If the builder constructs flats there, that place will be worth 30-35 lakh.’

He grinned and popped a lump of tobacco and choona between his gums and lower lip. I could see the million dreams in his eyes.

‘It’s tough to stay out there. You guys have it all figured out. A day-job. A salary at month-end.’

‘That’s not the case. I don’t have a day-job. I run a small business,’ I told him. Well, technically, I was still trying to.

‘Business? What do you buy and sell?’

What did we sell? If I told him we were trying to create a C2C telephone based classifieds business, it sure wouldn’t have made much sense. ‘We sell information over telephone,’ I told him. I couldn’t simplify it further. But the answer did not seem compelling enough to him.

‘Matlab?’

I decided to explain him our business. I wrapped the earphone around the iPod and packed it inside. I moved to the edge of the seat and asked him, ‘So tell me … what do you want in life?’

‘Life mein? I want happiness, peace, money. I want to be able to visit my folks back in village. I want to …’

‘No, not at a philosophical level,’ I interrupted him. ‘What do you want materially? What do you want to buy next?’

‘I wanted a home; I have it. I wanted an auto; I own one,’ he said, a little perplexed. ‘Phone! I want a phone. I have one, but I want a new one with pictures.’

‘Great. So you can call up our service and say you want to buy a cell phone with camera. And if someone like you or me is selling such a phone, we will connect the two of you. You can complete the deal amongst yourselves.’

His eyes brightened a bit. He immediately pulled out a small notebook from his shirt pocket and said, ‘Aapke paas kalam hai? Write down the phone number for me on this page.’ I started to scribble 922 222 1947, and he continued, ‘I have 2-3 old Nokia handsets at home. Do you buy those too?’

‘Sure, call up the service and tell them about the things you have to sell. When buyers come across, we’ll connect them to you.’ I could see imagination firing away in his eyes. ‘You can buy a second hand TV, DVD player, CDs with our service’

‘No, no … I have TV and DVD player,’ he said disinterestedly. ‘But I want to buy a bike. I can manage in the city with my auto. But back in village, I need a bike. I am looking for a good deal on a second hand bike.’

Zubin arrived and we started moving towards Kandivili from L&T.

‘And a Commander, a solid one,’ he said after a pause. ‘Back in the village, you misuse the vehicle a lot. It has to be rough and tough. Commander will do good; will haul 25-30 people at a time,’ he grinned. ‘A Baleru will be good too.’

‘A second hand jeep would be expensive. At least a few lakh.’

‘Paisa hai mere pass! I can raise some more through the chits. I have two monthly and one weekly chits going on in the chawl. I can get the money, but the jeep should be good. Rough and tough.’ With a quick jerk, he swerved the auto narrowly avoiding the pothole. ‘I will call you in a week. Look out for good deals on these three: Commander, Baleru and Selundar. Yeh teen abhi tatkal quota mein hai.’

‘Tatkal quota?’

‘Things to be bought next.’

Commander and Bolero were Mahindra jeeps. ‘Er, and you need a cylinder? As in gas cylinder?’ I asked him.

‘No, no … Selundar motorcycle,’ and he zipped past a Ford through traffic.

‘Hero Honda Splendor,’ Zubin said.

When I thought I could see the million dreams in his eyes, I was surely underestimating.