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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The hidden cost of scaling AI: infrastructure, energy, and the push for liquid cooling.
Updated
January 8, 2026 6:31 PM
The inside of a data centre, with rows of server racks. PHOTO: FREEPIK
As artificial intelligence models grow larger and more demanding, the quiet pressure point isn’t the algorithms themselves—it’s the AI infrastructure that has to run them. Training and deploying modern AI models now requires enormous amounts of computing power, which creates a different kind of challenge: heat, energy use and space inside data centers. This is the context in which Supermicro and NVIDIA’s collaboration on AI infrastructure begins to matter.
Supermicro designs and builds large-scale computing systems for data centers. It has now expanded its support for NVIDIA’s Blackwell generation of AI chips with new liquid-cooled server platforms built around the NVIDIA HGX B300. The announcement isn’t just about faster hardware. It reflects a broader effort to rethink how AI data center infrastructure is built as facilities strain under rising power and cooling demands.
At a basic level, the systems are designed to pack more AI chips into less space while using less energy to keep them running. Instead of relying mainly on air cooling—fans, chillers and large amounts of electricity, these liquid-cooled AI servers circulate liquid directly across critical components. That approach removes heat more efficiently, allowing servers to run denser AI workloads without overheating or wasting energy.
Why does that matter outside a data center? Because AI doesn’t scale in isolation. As models become more complex, the cost of running them rises quickly, not just in hardware budgets, but in electricity use, water consumption and physical footprint. Traditional air-cooling methods are increasingly becoming a bottleneck, limiting how far AI systems can grow before energy and infrastructure costs spiral.
This is where the Supermicro–NVIDIA partnership fits in. NVIDIA supplies the computing engines—the Blackwell-based GPUs designed to handle massive AI workloads. Supermicro focuses on how those chips are deployed in the real world: how many GPUs can fit in a rack, how they are cooled, how quickly systems can be assembled and how reliably they can operate at scale in modern data centers. Together, the goal is to make high-density AI computing more practical, not just more powerful.
The new liquid-cooled designs are aimed at hyperscale data centers and so-called AI factories—facilities built specifically to train and run large AI models continuously. By increasing GPU density per rack and removing most of the heat through liquid cooling, these systems aim to ease a growing tension in the AI boom: the need for more computers without an equally dramatic rise in energy waste.
Just as important is speed. Large organizations don’t want to spend months stitching together custom AI infrastructure. Supermicro’s approach packages compute, networking and cooling into pre-validated data center building blocks that can be deployed faster. In a world where AI capabilities are advancing rapidly, time to deployment can matter as much as raw performance.
Stepping back, this development says less about one product launch and more about a shift in priorities across the AI industry. The next phase of AI growth isn’t only about smarter models—it’s about whether the physical infrastructure powering AI can scale responsibly. Efficiency, power use and sustainability are becoming as critical as speed.