There is one memory from Dubai that I will carry with me forever.
Someone looked at us and said, 'Raj, you and Atul should take a picture together.'
Atul smiled and replied, 'Yaar, doston ke saath photo kaun leta hai?' ('Who takes photos with friends?')
We laughed and moved on.
Today, I wish we had taken that picture.
Some people leave behind companies. A few leave behind an entirely different way of thinking.
That’s who Atul Hegde was for me.
We met only a couple of years ago, but somehow it never felt like a new friendship. We travelled to Dubai together, explored opportunities around Saudi Arabia, met several times in my office, at my home, and over long conversations at Soho. Every meeting felt like a masterclass—not in advertising, but in entrepreneurship.
Atul wasn’t just a creative businessman. He was a businessman who happened to understand creativity deeply. He had an extraordinary ability to see where the world was moving before everyone else did. While many of us were busy competing for today’s business, he was already building relationships for tomorrow’s industries.
One conversation with him has stayed with me.
He laughed and said, “Raj, one of the biggest differences between many Maharashtrian entrepreneurs and Marwari entrepreneurs is courage with capital. If your business consistently earns more than the bank’s interest rate, why wouldn’t you borrow to grow?”
Then, with his trademark humour, he said, “What’s the difference between Patel’s Shrikhand and Patil’s Shrikhand? Nothing. They both eat the same food. One simply has the courage to use capital to build something bigger.”
We laughed. But behind the joke was a lesson I’ll never forget.
I also remember the day he asked about the size of my company. When I shared the numbers, he smiled and said, “I thought I should buy your company… but looking at this, maybe you should buy mine.” That ability to admire someone else’s success without ego was rare. There was confidence, but there was also generosity.
What I admired most about Atul was his curiosity. Every conversation was about possibilities, acquisitions, partnerships, new markets, technology, people and the future. He connected people naturally. Through him I met wonderful people, including Soumya Iyer, and many conversations began because Atul believed good people should know each other.
My wife and children knew him too. Whenever he came home, he never behaved like a business acquaintance. He had the warmth of an old friend.
His passing feels deeply unfair because it came at a time when it seemed his biggest chapter had only just begun. The industry hasn’t just lost an entrepreneur. It has lost a rare combination of vision, ambition, generosity and business intelligence.
Thank you, Atul, for the conversations, the laughter, the lessons, and for reminding all of us that building a business is ultimately about building people and possibilities.
You will be missed.
The author is founder and CCO, Famous Innovations.

