Every plant carries
a woman's name.

The first nursery sat on a half-acre patch of land that had not seen a profitable crop in nine years. The water table had dropped, the soil had thinned, and the men of the village had largely migrated to cities for daily-wage work. The women who stayed were holding the village together on remittances, NREGA work and small loans.

We did not start Tulsee with a business plan. We started with a question: could a plant nursery, run carefully, generate enough income to keep a woman in her village with dignity? Could it use a fraction of the water that field crops needed? Could it produce something Indian cities would actually pay for, year-round, without monsoon dependency?

The answer, four years in, is yes — at small scale. Twenty SHGs. Two hundred and forty women on payroll, not piece-rate. An average household income that has more than doubled. Eighteen villages where at least one woman now controls the family bank account. And a network of 1.2 lakh plants that have travelled to offices and homes across India, each one with a story most clients only discover when they read the card.

This page exists because that story matters as much as the plant. If you are a buyer, you should know what your money funds. If you are a maker, you should know that someone in Pune is counting.