I still remember something from my childhood. Mummy used to pull the fallen hair out of her comb and save it in a plastic bag. Because a hair buyer used to come to our village. He would call out in the street, and in return for the hair, he would give a few rupees, or a balloon, or a packet of snacks.

Mummy would tie the plastic bag, laugh, and say, "Just wait and see. One day we will sell all this and buy a new house!" And I was just a little boy, and I believed her fully. Every day I checked the plastic bag, wondering when the house would come.

The house never came. But that plastic bag got a little fuller every month. And nobody ever paid attention to it.

When I grew up, things were the same. Only the house had changed. When my wife swept the floor, there was hair in the corner. Hair on the pillow, hair in the bathroom. Hair everywhere you looked. Even then, I thought it was normal. These days, who doesn't have hair fall?

Then our first daughter was born. The house filled with happiness. But in the middle of all that happiness, my wife was quietly fighting something. After the delivery, she started losing much more hair than before. She never said anything. But I would notice how she stopped for a moment in front of the mirror.

A few years later, our second daughter came. And the same story started again, this time even worse.

One evening, our elder daughter was braiding her Mumma's hair. When the hair came off in her hand, she asked in her innocent way,

Mumma, why do you have so little hair now?

My wife laughed. But that night, I could not sleep.

What didn't we try? Expensive serums, hair oils from TV ads, home remedies from our grandmothers. For a few days it felt good, and then it was the same again. We never got the result we wanted.

Then I asked myself, what is the real problem? And slowly I understood that this is not only about our home. The comb in every home is telling the same story.

I started working on a formula. I read about old Ayurvedic methods, tried to understand our grandmothers' remedies, and tried many, many formulas, one after another. Many times nothing worked. But we did not give up.

At last, one formula came out that we ourselves trusted. Before selling it, we shared it with the people around us. Neighbours, relatives, people we know. We went to each home and gave it ourselves. And when their feedback came, it was good.

Then one day my wife said something that I still remember today.

This problem is not only ours. It is everyone's. So why not make it for everyone?

That very day, Nivkara was born.

Today, when you open a bottle of Nivkara, it did not come from some big factory. It is the effort of a son, a husband, and a father of two daughters. So that no other mother has to stay silent in front of the mirror, and no other daughter has to ask that question.

And yes, Mummy's new house was not built by selling hair. But maybe now, someone else's plastic bag will not fill up so fast. 🙂