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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Bindwell is testing a simple idea: use AI to design smarter, more targeted pesticides built for today’s farming challenges.
Updated
January 8, 2026 6:33 PM
Researcher tending seedlings in a laboratory environment. PHOTO: FREEPIK
Bindwell, a San Francisco–based ag-tech startup using AI to design new pesticide molecules, has raised US$6 million in seed funding, co-led by General Catalyst and A Capital, with participation from SV Angel and Y Combinator founder Paul Graham. The round will help the company expand its lab in San Carlos, hire more technical talent and advance its first pesticide candidates toward validation.
Even as pesticide use has doubled over the last 30 years, farmers still lose up to 40% of global crops to pests and disease. The core issue is resistance: pests are adapting faster than the industry can update its tools. As a result, farmers often rely on larger amounts of the same outdated chemicals, even as they deliver diminishing returns.
Meanwhile, innovation in the agrochemical sector has slowed, leaving the industry struggling to keep up with rapidly evolving pests. This is the gap Bindwell is targeting. Instead of updating old chemicals, the company uses AI to find completely new compounds designed for today’s pests and farming conditions.
This vision is made even more striking by the people leading it. Bindwell was founded by 18-year-old Tyler Rose and 19-year-old Navvye Anand, who met at the Wolfram Summer Research Program in 2023. Both had deep ties to agriculture — Rose in China and Anand in India — witnessing up close how pest outbreaks and chemical dependence burdened farmers.
Filling the gap in today’s pesticide pipeline, Bindwell created an AI system that can design and evaluate new molecules long before they hit the lab. It starts with Foldwell, the company’s protein-structure model, which helps map the shapes of pest proteins so scientists know where a molecule should bind. Then comes PLAPT, which can scan through every known synthesized compound in just a few hours to see which ones might actually work. For biopesticides, they use APPT, a model tuned to spot protein-to-protein interactions and shown to outperform existing tools on industry benchmarks.
Bindwell isn’t selling AI tools. Instead, the company develops the molecules itself and licenses them to major agrochemical players. Owning the full discovery process lets the team bake in safety, selectivity and environmental considerations from day one. It also allows Bindwell to plug directly into the pipelines that produce commercial pesticides — just with a fundamentally different engine powering the science.
At present, the team is now testing its first AI-generated candidates in its San Carlos lab and is in early talks with established pesticide manufacturers about potential licensing deals. For Rose and Anand, the long-term vision is simple: create pest control that works without repeating the mistakes of the last half-century. As they put it, the goal is not to escalate chemical use but to design molecules that are more precise, less harmful and resilient against resistance from the start.