Yanira D. Kivi 
If you haven’t seen it, or if there was a pitch to explain this show – which is ironic, given that it’s a show about pitches – it would be Dance India Dance meet IIM . Which is scary just to write, let alone watch. Which is also another way of saying it’s impossible not to watch.
The basic idea behind the original UK show, Dragons’ Den, which Shark Tank India is based on is very simple. The contestants present a pitch and a panel of judges chides them explaining why it’s a terrible business idea. And once in a while, in fact very rarely, they get excited about something. The mood is dark, even menacing, and is shot in a den/basement type setting to murder mystery music. To stay within its British aesthetic, it’s mostly about failure. Everything is understated, laced with subtext.
The American version is called Shark Tank. It’s much more upbeat and, well, American.
The mood, like America, is about optimism. And like America, judges use a lot of words that don’t mean anything. And like America, the amount of money they invest if they like the business is huge.
Candidates go out and perform, more than pitch. Among the worst business ideas were a machine that shocks squirrels, a fundraiser for an unscripted movie about a motorcycle ride, and a mirror that makes women look thinner. Americans are a direct culture, so the sharks often speak their minds about the company – which almost feels like listening to a distraught shrink analyzing the candidate’s entire life and the mistakes they’ve made. In return, the contestants get angry if they are rejected and have some harsh words in return for the judges. If they like the deal, the judges often smack each other — like sharks — for a piece of the pie.
What makes all this viewing exciting is that a company gets real funding and audiences get to see the ingenuity of some entrepreneurs and the craziness of others. The most tense moment, especially for cowardly columnists like me, is when a shark offers a large sum and the entrepreneur asks for more. Obviously, the “take the money and run” principle only applies to the writing profession.
Shark Tank India is a different beast. The judges are not of the old school Indian affairs aesthetic – a suit-wearing Anand Mahindra or Ratan Tata. They are between 30 and 40 years old and are dressed as DJs, people on a first date or the best friend of a Karan Johar romance. And the mood is very encouraging, no matter how silly the business plan is. Very similar to encouraging child singers or dancers in the many reality shows. When Sharks like a company and want to fight together, they wink at each other like teenagers who just saw their first crush walk into a room. The fake drama has all the pathos of a mother-in-law, daughter-in-law tiff, not a Silicon Valley negotiation. That says a lot about where the startup world has taken modern Indian business – much closer to Instagram reels and stand-up comedy than The Economic Times and ET Now. In the age of Elon Musk, it makes sense that the Paytm founder would go viral for dancing and shouting at his annual party rather than giving a boring speech about the future of digital payments.
My favorite moment was when this fake cheerleading made for reality TV broke for a second. One of the judges said to a contestant, “This is complete nonsense. Please close this business.’ I feel the same about Shark Tank India. And yet, I can’t stop looking at it.
