An interview with Tengin founder Madhu on turning coconuts into a business built around farmers, villages and communities.
Updated
June 1, 2026 1:46 PM
Workers of Tengin. PHOTO: TENGIN
In Southern India, coconuts are part of daily life. They are used in food, rituals, farming and home remedies. For Tengin, a social startup whose name means “coconut” in Kannada—a South Indian language—the crop also offers a way to build a rural business with deeper local impact.
Founded by Madhu Kargunda in 2017, Tengin works with farmers, artisans and women’s collectives in Karnataka to make products from almost every part of the coconut. Its range includes virgin coconut oil, desiccated coconut powder, shell-based handicrafts, candles, home décor items and other coconut-based goods.
The larger idea is simple. Farmers should play a bigger role in the value created from the crops they grow. Tengin is trying to help rural communities move beyond supplying raw produce and take part in processing, branding, packaging and sales.
Madhu grew up in an agricultural family. Over the years, he saw many young people move away from farming to look for stable jobs in cities. To him, the problem was not farming itself. The bigger issue was that farmers often missed out on the value created after crops left the farm.
A coconut might be grown in a village, but much of the income comes later through processing, branding and retail. That gap stayed with him, eventually leading him to leave his eight-year career in IT and return to agriculture full-time.
Started with just making virgin coconut oil, Tengin has grown into a wider coconut products business. The startup is now working with around 15 to 20 farmers and artisan groups across Karnataka. It is also building production capacity for larger retail and B2B partnerships.
Today, Tengin generates annual revenue of roughly ₹50-60 lakh, or around US$52,000 to US$62,000. It has also started testing international demand, including a recent export of around 200 kilograms of desiccated coconut powder to Texas.
As Tengin expanded, the team began looking more closely at parts of the coconut that were usually treated as waste or low-value byproducts, such as coconut shells and coir. At first, Tengin treated them that way too.
“When we started, we used to burn some of the shells”, Madhu said. “Later, we realized it was an economic opportunity”.
That changed the company’s product strategy. Local artisans working with Tengin now are turning coconut shells into bowls, incense holders, candles, coffee mugs, mobile stands and handcrafted décor items.
This gives Tengin a place in the circular economy, where waste materials are reused instead of thrown away. For Madhu, though, sustainability has to do more than reduce waste. It should also create income in the community.
“We wanted to minimize waste and maximize wealth locally”, he said.
Tengin does not depend only on one central factory. Instead, it works with smaller village-level production groups that connect to a larger business network. This helps farmers stay close to their land while also taking part in processing and manufacturing. It also creates local jobs, which can reduce the pressure to migrate to cities.
Yet, the model is not always easy. In the early days, Tengin had to convince some farmers to move from chemical farming to natural farming. Moreover, the weather has also become harder to predict. Irregular rainfall and changing harvest cycles can affect coconut prices and production consistency.
Still, Madhu sees the village-based model as central to Tengin’s identity. For him, villages are living systems built on shared work, local knowledge and interdependence.
“The definition of a village is inclusiveness”, he said.
That belief also shaped Tengin’s “coco tourism” initiative. Through the program, visitors meet farmers, learn about farming practices and see how coconut products are made.
During one visit by MBA students from Indiana State University, an unexpected spell of rain gave the group a closer look at village life. Farmers gathered and began singing traditional folk songs to express gratitude to nature. For the students, it became a lesson in culture as much as business.
Madhu sees these moments as part of what rural entrepreneurship can protect.
“If villages become empty, we lose language, traditions and local knowledge too”, he said.
Tengin’s model is not difficult to copy on paper. Madhu is open about that.
“Anyone can do it”, he said, “but what matters is how you work with people”.
For him, the harder part is building long-term trust with farming communities. Tengin works through relationships more than rigid contracts. This encourages farmers and local groups to participate in the system in a more collaborative way.
That trust has become one of the startup’s strongest assets. It shapes how Tengin works with producers and how it presents its products to customers.
For Madhu, it is not enough to call a product sustainable. Customers should be able to understand where it came from, who made it and how their purchase supports the people behind it.
That matters even more in a market where terms like “eco-friendly” and “organic” have become buzzwords. Madhu knows that these words can feel empty when brands do not show what they actually mean.
“Anyone can use these words today,” he said. “What matters is whether consumers can actually see what you are doing”.
This is why Tengin focuses on transparency and storytelling. The startup wants customers to see the full journey of each coconut product, from the farm to the finished item. It also wants them to understand whose livelihood is connected to that journey.
Madhu also believes small brands cannot depend on products alone. Products can be copied, but a clear story, a trusted community and a visible impact are harder to replicate.
“Don’t try to sell only the product,” he said. “When you try to sell the product, you are being sold once”.
Each Tengin product includes details about the people behind it and how profits are shared. In that way, the company connects its coconut products to the farmers, artisans and village systems that make them possible.
For Madhu, entrepreneurship starts with the problem. Founders, he believes, should understand the problem deeply before thinking about scale and revenue.
“An entrepreneur is someone trying to solve an existing problem”, he said. “Sometimes it may be a small problem, sometimes a niche one. It could be in technology, energy, farming or any other sector—but first understand what problem you are trying to solve”.
Farming has also taught him patience. He gives the example of coffee.
“When you plant coffee, you know it may take five years before you see results”, he said, “but you still [have to] water it every day”.
He sees entrepreneurship the same way. Building systems, communities and trust takes time. Growth may be slow at first, but daily work matters.
Adaptability is another lesson he returns to often. Farming conditions change constantly, and so do markets. In both cases, people have to keep learning, unlearning and adjusting.
“Entrepreneurship is about constantly learning new things because the world is changing all the time”, he said. “You need to stay relevant, understand what connects with [your customers] and adapt accordingly”.
Looking ahead, Tengin plans to grow its farmer network, strengthen production capacity and expand its export business. Madhu is also looking to collaborate with more platforms, storytellers and communities that can help amplify the voices behind the products.
The startup is also involved in rural community initiatives, including support for government schools and menstrual health awareness programs.
For Madhu, giving back is part of how he defines success. With more resources, he would invest further in farmer education, village-level production systems and community development.
By building a business around coconuts, Tengin is also making a larger case for rural entrepreneurship. Its work shows that a modern consumer brand can grow without losing its connection to the farmers, traditions and village ecosystems that make that growth possible. For Madhu, that is the real measure of progress: creating value that stays rooted in the community.
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CES 2026 and the move toward wearable robots you don’t wear all day.
Updated
January 28, 2026 5:53 PM
The π6 exoskeleton from VIGX. PHOTO: VIGX
CES 2026 highlighted how robotics is taking many different forms. VIGX, a wearable robotics company, used the event to introduce the π6, a portable exoskeleton robot designed to be carried and worn only when needed. Unveiled in Las Vegas, the device reflects a broader shift at CES toward robotics that move with people rather than staying fixed in industrial or clinical settings.
Exoskeletons have existed for years, most commonly in controlled environments such as factories, rehabilitation facilities and specialised research settings. In these contexts, they have tended to be large, fixed systems intended for long sessions of supervised use rather than something a person could deploy on their own.
Against that backdrop, the π6 explores a more personal and flexible approach to assistance. Instead of treating an exoskeleton as permanent equipment, it is designed to be something users carry with them and wear only when a task or situation calls for extra support.
The π6 weighs 1.9 kilograms and folds down to a size that fits into a bag. When worn, it sits around the waist and legs, providing mechanical assistance during activities such as walking, climbing or extended movement. Rather than altering how people move, the system adds controlled rotational force at key joints to reduce physical strain over time.
According to the company, the device delivers up to 800 watts of peak power and 16 Nm of rotational force. In practical terms, this means the system is designed to help users sustain effort for longer periods, especially during physically demanding activities_ by easing the body's load rather than pushing it beyond normal limits.
The π6 is designed to support users weighing between 45 kilograms and 120 kilograms and is intended for intermittent use. This reinforces its role as a wearable companion — something taken out when needed and set aside when not — rather than a device meant to be worn continuously.
Another aspect of the system is how it responds to different environments. Using onboard sensors and processing, the exoskeleton can detect changes such as slopes or uneven ground and adjust the level of assistance accordingly. This reduces the need for manual adjustments and helps maintain a consistent walking experience across varied terrain, with software fine-tuning how assistance is applied rather than directing movement itself.
The hardware design follows a similar logic. The power belt contains a detachable battery, allowing users to remove or swap it without handling the entire system. This keeps the wearable components lighter and makes the exoskeleton easier to transport. The battery can also be used as a general power source for small electronic devices, adding a layer of practicality beyond the exoskeleton’s core function.
VIGX frames its work around accessibility rather than industrial automation. “To empower ordinary people,” said founder Bob Yu, explaining why the company chose to focus on exoskeleton robotics. “VIGX is dedicated to expanding the physical limits of humans, enabling deeper outdoor adventures, making running and cycling easier and more enjoyable and allowing people to sustain their outdoor pursuits regardless of age.”
Placed within the wider context of CES, the π6 sits alongside a growing number of portable robots and wearable systems that prioritise convenience, mobility and personal use. By reducing the physical and practical barriers to wearing an exoskeleton, VIGX is testing whether assistive robotics can move beyond niche environments and into everyday life. If that experiment succeeds, wearable robots may become less about dramatic augmentation and more about quiet support — present when needed and easy to put away when not.