It started on a badminton court.

Mayooran had already done this twice. Built something, grown it, sold it. He knew how the startup story was supposed to go — the decks, the metrics, the exit. But somewhere between his first and second venture, he started thinking about a different kind of story. The kind that doesn't make it onto a slide.

He and Rupesh had been playing badminton together for years. Every week. Same court. Same terrible backhands. It was the kind of friendship where you talk about everything — ideas, life, what actually matters — usually while catching your breath.

“I just sent my mum a birthday gift. She said thank you. That was it. No story. No context. Just a thing in a box.”

Rupesh said it like it was nothing. But Mayooran felt it immediately. He'd been there too — pouring thought into a gift, only for the moment around it to completely disappear. The memory he actually wanted to share. The reason behind the thing. Gone.

“What if the gift could hold the story?”

Not literally. But what if the moment — the voice note, the photo, the message you really meant to write — what if that could travel with the gift and last forever? What if you could scan something and relive it, years later?

They finished the game. Then they kept talking.

That conversation became Ownstory.