Rules That Never Fit Her
Anjali Sardana grew up in Virginia, and honestly, she was never the quiet kid. Her parents showed up at school all the time because she’d gotten in trouble—again. Anjali just didn’t buy into following rules for the sake of it. She did her own thing, thought for herself, pushed limits, and asked the questions other kids kept to themselves. People called her difficult, but really, she just paid attention.
Even as a kid, Anjali figured out something a lot of grown-ups miss: rules aren’t always right, and sometimes you need to change them. That idea stuck with her. Later, she realized people do their best work when they feel trusted—not when someone’s breathing down their necks. Giving people ownership makes them more confident, more creative, and more responsible. That early way of looking at things shaped her as a leader. When no one knew what to do, she stepped up. When things got messy, she kept her cool.
Seeds of Future Purpose
At home, Anjali saw what real sacrifice looked like, just by watching her mom. Her mother was a doctor, running her own clinic, working late—sometimes until ten at night. For a while, Anjali’s dad was busy building a startup in Silicon Valley, so he wasn’t around much. That meant her mom had to juggle everything—work, the house, three wild kids—all by herself. She barely took a break after giving birth to Anjali. Two weeks later, she was back at the clinic. The same thing happened after Anjali’s older brother was born. It wasn’t that her mom was eager to rush back; she just didn’t have another option. The kids, including Anjali, were loud and always up to something, so home was never quiet or easy.
As Anjali got older, she started to see the real problem. It wasn’t that her mom wasn’t trying hard enough. It was just that there was never enough time, never enough order. Watching her mom struggle felt awful—not because the work was insignificant, but because the whole system gave her no chance to breathe, to plan, or even to rest.
A System Failing Everyone
By her final year in college, Anjali started to notice just how messed up the labor market really was. She looked up to leaders like Mr. Mukesh Ambani, who managed to make cellular data in India cheaper than almost anywhere else. Because of that, people could actually use apps like Pronto. But what really stuck with her? Usually, when markets have these weird inefficiencies, someone’s making money off it—maybe quietly, but still. In the domestic help market, that wasn’t the case. No one was winning. Customers couldn’t find reliable workers. Workers couldn’t find steady jobs. And neither side ever seemed to agree on pay. There was no sneaky advantage, just a system that failed everyone.
That’s what drew her in. Not because it was flashy or exciting, but because it mattered. She saw that fixing this mess needed empathy, patience—someone willing to do the boring, careful work. Big ideas were fine, but step-by-step solutions would actually make things better. The frustration didn’t scare her off. If anything, it made her want to dive in. She wanted to fix it, for the workers who deserved some stability and respect—for people who were tired of confusion and getting ignored.
The MVP That Started in a Park
Anjali graduated in May 2024, but honestly, she’d felt restless since the previous December. She missed working on Pronto. By January, she’d sketched out the business model—the same one they’re still using. From February to July, she took on an internship, but every day dragged because Pronto was all she could think about. She lost sleep, barely ate. The idea just wouldn’t let her go.
She built the app with Cursor, even though she’d never written a line of code before. The business pilots ran in December, January, and February. She ran everything from a park near Huda Market in Sector 56, Gurgaon. The pilots? They cost just $300 a month. The first customer came from Delhi. Then, during the next pilot, someone made the first instant booking—under ten minutes.
Early workers joined through referrals. They took the training seriously, even when others bragged they already knew it all. That’s when things started to feel real. Validation came, not from plans or theories, but from actual customers who believed in what she’d built.
Official Launch and Day-One Success
Pronto kicked things off on April 1, 2025. Right out of the gate, they pulled in 15 bookings—mostly thanks to folks spreading the word from the pilot run. Fast forward seven months, and they’ve already hit seven figures in revenue. The company has grown fast: they’ve got 230 corporate employees now and more than 1,000 Pronto pros out there delivering services.
Here’s how Pronto operates: they use hubs instead of dark stores. It keeps costs down, and they don’t just pick locations at random. The team actually studies the roads, traffic patterns, and where time gets lost before settling on a spot.
People seem to love the basics—sweeping, mopping, and washing dishes. Those three alone bring in half the revenue. When it comes to quality, the numbers are solid: just 2 complaints for every 6,000 bookings. Still, Pronto doesn’t brush off any complaint. Their standard is zero, so every issue gets the full treatment—deep investigation, lessons learned, fixes made.
Before hitting the field, workers go through five days of training. If they ever feel unsafe or disrespected, Pronto stands behind them. This kind of support gives the team real stability, agency, and respect. Anjali runs the show with one core belief: happy teams do their best work, and every job matters.
Driven by Vision
Anjali feels proud of what Pronto has pulled off so far, but she doesn’t see hitting revenue goals or raising money as the finish line. For her, it’s still just the beginning. There’s a lot left to do, and honestly, she thinks they haven’t even scratched the surface. She’s focused on expanding into big markets all over India. What keeps her moving is something pretty straightforward: you don’t really know what works until you actually try it. Running those pilots taught her more than any amount of planning could. The workers showed her what dignity really means—no business hassle or frustration ever matched that lesson. And before any investor believed in her, it was the customers who gave her confidence.
Her mantra is simple: you either win or you learn. She’s all about learning quickly, moving even faster, and staying steady through it all. Most nights, she barely gets more than two hours of sleep, not because she wants to look daring, but because she’s pushing for something bigger. Real impact, for her, is about changing daily life—helping workers find stability and respect, backed by a company that actually cares. The journey’s long, steady, and driven by purpose, and that’s exactly how she likes it.