Jaggi's claim is that India's cannabis problem is semantic, not legal: the plant is vijaya in the Ayurvedic texts, offered to Shiva, and has always been permitted under the AYUSH licence Awshad operates on — yet the word cannabis cannot be used to market the product, so the messaging has to be built sideways. The company began with a dog. In 2019 her twelve-year-old pet Champ was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer too far gone for chemotherapy or radiation; a vet mentioned CBD, and she found an Indian market with zero information — no quality standard, no clinical testing, no way to know whether what a stranger was selling in a Delhi neighbourhood was even pure. A friend carried a bottle back from Amsterdam, Champ stopped whimpering and started eating again, and he died that November — the origin story of a company whose catalogue is now nine or ten human products against two for pets. What Awshad sells, she insists, is management rather than cure: no claim on curing cancer, only on getting patients off opioid-class painkillers and heavy sedatives while the oncology continues. The rest is trust engineering — every batch sent to a Florida lab for a certificate of analysis, ten doctors placed inside the checkout because edibles need a prescription and Amazon is therefore closed, four-fifths of sales through its own website, and a catalogue graded by potency rather than by ailment. Bootstrapped by choice, the company plans to test the investment market next year; the harder wait is for a regulator willing to say the word out loud.
Worth your time if you are
Anyone handed a CBD bottle with no idea what's in it
D2C operators selling prescription-gated products
Wellness founders in categories the regulator hasn't settled
Long-term sedative users curious about tapering off