Outside the fortified gates of the US Consulate in Mumbai, where towering walls and visa anxieties merge into long queues and uncertain glances, a unique story of innovation and grit plays out each day. It doesn’t involve pitch decks or tech accelerators. There’s no app demo, no investor calls. Just a weathered autorickshaw, a sharp mind, and a business model so simple yet powerful that it now commands the attention of India’s startup and corporate elite.
The star of this story is an unnamed Mumbai auto driver. He doesn’t offer rides. He offers solutions. Specifically, a solution to a very real and overlooked problem: what does a visa applicant do with their bag when they’re told they can’t carry it inside the consulate?
One Rule, One Problem, One Entrepreneur
Every day, hundreds—sometimes thousands—of visa hopefuls arrive at the US Consulate, only to learn that bags of any kind are not allowed inside. And here’s the catch: there are no official locker services nearby. No infrastructure, no assistance—just confusion. For applicants carrying laptops, documents, or even personal items, it becomes an immediate crisis. Missing your slot could mean weeks of delay or a missed opportunity altogether.
That’s where this auto driver steps in—not as a transporter, but as a facilitator. “Sir, bag de do. Safe rakhunga, mera roz ka hai. ₹1,000 charge hai,” he says. (Sir, give me the bag. I’ll keep it safe. I do this daily. ₹1,000 charge.)
What seems like a steep price at first glance quickly becomes a lifesaver. In moments of panic, ₹1,000 is not a cost—it’s relief.
From Pavement to Profit
The driver is no ordinary hustler. According to Lenskart Product Leader Rahul Rupani, who shared the story in a now-viral LinkedIn post, this isn’t just some casual offer. It’s a well-oiled micro-enterprise. The driver reportedly services 20 to 30 customers a day. At ₹1,000 per bag, that’s ₹20,000 to ₹30,000 daily. Monthly? A staggering ₹5–8 lakhs—comparable to what top-tier tech professionals or finance executives take home.
But the brilliance doesn’t end with earnings. The man has thought through the constraints. Realising it’s not feasible—or legal—to store 30 bags in an auto, he’s tied up with a local police officer who owns a private locker facility nearby. The bags are secured there, while the auto remains the interface, the trusted face. It’s not just smart; it’s structurally sound.
Solving a Hyper-Specific Pain Point
This business isn’t built on disruption—it’s built on observation. He noticed a problem no one else did, solved it without tech, and scaled it through word-of-mouth and repeat demand. And he did so with empathy, trust, and razor-sharp timing.
There’s something powerful about that. It’s easy to get lost in a sea of pitch decks and jargon—unit economics, product-market fit, CAC and LTV. But real entrepreneurship often begins with one thing: noticing. In this case, noticing a consistent user need and providing a reliable, high-value service.
Rupani calls it “entrepreneurship in its rawest and most powerful form,” and rightly so. It’s not VC-funded, not backed by a digital platform, and yet it works—profitably, ethically, and legally.
The Business School of the Streets
What this story truly celebrates is the entrepreneurial instinct that doesn’t come from MBAs or Silicon Valley playbooks. It comes from the streets. It’s not taught; it’s earned—day by day, customer by customer.
This auto driver has done more than just earn a livelihood. He’s built a brand of trust in a place defined by tension and bureaucracy. That trust is worth ₹1,000 per bag. And in the absence of infrastructure, he has created one.
His model is rooted in what makes great businesses work: trust, timing, demand, and a willingness to take responsibility. It reminds us that not all innovation needs funding. Some of the best ideas only need a human touch, a sharp eye, and a clear problem to solve.
Real entrepreneurship, as this auto driver proves, doesn’t need a launch event. Sometimes, it just needs a parking spot.