Most billionaires cling to the CEO title like a life raft. They build a kingdom, fortify the walls, and spend the rest of their lives sitting on the throne, terrified of what might happen if they stand up.
Deepinder Goyal just stood up.
The man who built Zomato into a household verb—and recently topped the Hurun Rich List as India’s wealthiest self-made entrepreneur—isn’t celebrating by buying a sports team or a private island. He’s quitting. Well, sort of. He’s stepping down as CEO of Eternal (Zomato’s parent company) to become Vice Chairman. Why? Because he’s bored. Or rather, because running a public company is too “safe” for a brain wired for chaos.
I’ve followed the Indian startup circuit for a decade, and frankly, most founders operate from the same dusty playbook. Goyal threw that book in the shredder years ago.
Here are the four unwritten rules that explain why he’s the most fascinating—and frustrating—figure in Indian tech right now.
1. The “Obsessive” or Nothing Rule
Let’s cut the fluff: Goyal doesn’t want employees. He wants believers.
He has openly declared that startups cannot be built on a “Monday-to-Friday mindset.” This doesn’t mean you can’t have weekends off. It means you can’t mentally check out. He gave a brutal example recently that stuck with me: if a critical bug breaks the app at 6 p.m. on a Friday, a “job” mentality says, “I’ll fix it Monday.” A “founder” mentality says, “I’m fixing this now because it’s my baby.”
Is it toxic? Maybe.
Critics call it “hustle culture” on steroids. They say it burns people out. They aren’t wrong. But Goyal isn’t trying to build a lifestyle business; he’s building empires. And in my experience, empires aren’t built by people watching the clock. He argues that Zomato pays “exceptionally well” and offers massive equity to compensate for this demand. He’s trading work-life balance for life-changing wealth.
It’s a polarizing stance. But looking at Zomato’s ₹3.2 lakh crore valuation, it’s hard to argue with the math.
2. The “Reverse Retirement” Strategy
February 1, 2026. That’s the day Goyal officially steps down as CEO.
Usually, when a founder steps back, it’s to play golf. Goyal is doing it to play with fire. In his letter to shareholders, he admitted he’s drawn to “high-risk exploration”—ideas too dangerous, weird, or unproven for a public company to touch.
Think about that. He reached the summit, looked around, and decided the view was too stable.
He’s pivoting from administrator to inventor. Most CEOs spend their days managing quarterly earnings calls and soothing jittery investors. It’s grinding, repetitive work. It feels like driving a Ferrari in a school zone. Goyal wants to take the car to the track. He’s effectively firing himself from the boring stuff so he can get back to the messy, thrilling work of creation.
3. Cracking Death (Open Source style)
Here is where things get sci-fi.
Goyal isn’t just delivering biryani anymore; he wants to stop you from dying. He has personally poured $25 million into “Continue,” a longevity research venture. But unlike the secretive, ego-driven labs of Silicon Valley billionaires who want to live forever while the rest of us rot, Goyal is doing something unheard of.
He’s making it open source.
Every finding, every failure, every breakthrough will be public. The goal isn’t to sell a pill to the 1%; it’s to find “simple levers” in human biology that can extend health for everyone. He’s treating the human body like a buggy codebase—looking for the patches that stop the system from crashing.
When I first read this, I laughed. It sounds absurd. But then I remembered people laughed when he thought he could organize India’s chaotic restaurant industry online.
4. The “Skin in the Game” Hiring Protocol
If you want to work for Goyal, it might cost you. Literally.
He recently posted a job for a “Chief of Staff.” The terms? No salary for year one. In fact, you had to pay ₹20 lakh to charity just to get the gig.
It sounds like a scam. It sounds illegal.
And yet, 10,000 people applied.
Why? Because the currency of the future isn’t just cash; it’s proximity. For ambitious young operators, spending a year inside Goyal’s brain is worth more than an MBA from Harvard. It’s a masterclass in high-stakes execution. By demanding a donation, Goyal filtered out everyone looking for a paycheck and left only those looking for a legacy.
It was a stunt, sure. But it worked. It proved that for the right opportunity, people will bet on themselves.
The Bottom Line
Deepinder Goyal is a paradox. He is a demanding boss who asks for total devotion, yet a philanthropist trying to cure aging for free. He is a capitalist titan who just walked away from the most powerful job in his company.
He isn’t playing the game to win anymore. He’s playing to see what happens when you break the rules.
So, now that he’s free from the CEO handcuffs, what does he break next?