Ratna G. Chotrani

From  being a housewife to resurrecting a dying business, the rag-to-riches story of  Zeenat Begum is an inspiration to young female entrepreneurs. Often described as the original Self–Made She-EO (CEO) Zeenat has indeed traversed quiet a distance from the by lanes of Attapur in the interiors of Mehdipatnam Hyderabad.

She studied in Urdu medium Zeenat was married early in life to a hotel manager whose keys jingled with the weight of storerooms, banquet hall and dinner shifts he knew the table  occupancy better than his own heart beat.

Life was ordered, modest, and predictable. She had a daughter and son. Zeenat and her husband married off their children. Soon her husband stopped working. And like countless parents  before them,  they carried the quiet hope the son would take care of them in their twilight years.

But destiny has its plans.The son and his wife left for the US. The day they left, Zeenat’s husband hugged his son at the airport and came home a smaller man.

Suddenly the house felt empty and future felt heavier. With no job and no income, Zeenat’s husband sat by the window, watching the road.

He stopped inspecting the creases in his shirts. The husband didn’t know which way to turn. Zeenat watched the man who once commanded the kitchen of forty fold inward, day by day.

Until a neighbor dropped a lifeline. Why not sell Malabar parotas?

He jumped at it. Door to door street to street, he sold. The Parotas moved .Business was good  Business ws good . So good he bought stock in bulk thousands invested. Then his body gave out .He couldn’t continue .The stock sat at home a mountain of unsold dough and doubt.

That’s when Zeenat stepped in.

She slung a bag over her shoulder and started .Door after door, knock after knock. She sold some. Days passed by sweat and thirst were her companions Days later her relative stepped in and offered to drive her in his auto for a share of the profits, she said yes Soon her husband recovered enough to join back .She took the auto routes. He took the stores and malls .Trouble came as it always does.

The  relative who drove Zeenat around asked to make the share fifty fifty and not 35 each. Zeenat refused saying her husband too was working and he would get his share to. The man pulled the auto thinking this would kill them. But not with Zeenat and her husband they went to a manufacturer and asked for dealership. He agreed . The business breathed again Their parotas began landing in big stores and malls. Then the manufacturer fell sick .

So Zeenat and her husband did what survivors do: they started their own brand .Malabar Parota 99 was born .But misfortune wasn’t finished. Her husband passed away.

Most stories would end their .Hers didn’t .

Her daughter stepped in. Her son in law, looked at the ledger, at his mother in law’s cracked hands and said “Amma no more autos of other people" and invested.

Their little home operation grew teeth.

Today, they move flaky soft .ghee scented Parotas 1800 to 2000 packets a day.  They scaled up .Zeenat used her old contacts .Hotels Canteens, small dealers .The margins maybe thin but the orders have grown

Their little factory smells of flour and ghee as the dough mixer whirls. They employ over 15 people and taught them the slap, the fold, the patience. Zeenat tested every first batch .If the layers did not separate  like pages of a book, she sent them back.

Several years have passed by Malabar Parota 99 reaches several districts and States. She has one plan for the royalties , not gold , Not a bigger house. All she  wants to do is  write her story .Rags to riches .And with the proceeds, build a home for the aged, for parents like her who were left waiting. Because Zeenat knows sometimes the son doesn’t  stay.

But strength does ."When you have nothing,” Zeenat writes ,"You learn the weight of a rupee .When you have something you learn the weight of another woman’s hunger.”

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If you have the patience and endurance to stay in the long run, reaching your goal gets easier. It’s the sprint to success which takes a harder toll than you realise.