Hi! I'm Raksha!

I'm the founder of Feasible Advisory. I spent a decade strategizing, designing, and deploying AI and traditional ML systems inside aerospace, manufacturing and operations, long enough to see the same gap everywhere: strategy that isn't grounded in operations, and operators without the vision to push for anything truly competitive. At IBM Consulting I delivered the firm's first production agentic AI system, for Nestlé, saving an estimated $X million across its North American factories.

Feasible isn't a product company with one piece of software for every problem. It's a technical advisory that strips away the hype to find the real business problem, then knows what to apply where under real operational pressure. The result isn't a tool. It's durable, custom value: better decisions for companies with real operations underneath.

Want the long version? Keep reading ↓

The long version
01 · Why Feasible

A name that stays grounded.

optimal
The feasible region: where every constraint holds at once.

My background spans software engineering, large-scale operations research, and multi-agent systems, getting to the math underneath a hard problem and making it hold up under complex, real-world conditions. In mathematics, a feasible region is the exact space where every constraint is satisfied at once and a workable solution still exists. Feasible exists to find that space for your business, the intersection where innovation meets action.

There's a real gap in how companies get help with this. Consultancies are great at strategy but rarely build the thing; model companies ship something powerful and general, but not a solution to your specific problem. What's missing is an advisory that's genuinely obsessed with the client's problem, builds the answer itself, and is free to bring in the right partner or tool for the job. The only incentive worth having is finding the signal in the noise and making it work. That's the gap Feasible exists to fill.

02 · Why now

A good moment to just build.

There's an enormous amount of noise around AI right now, and most decision-makers are stranded between a raw model and a system they can actually run in production, let alone one that moves the outcomes that matter. It's a strangely good moment for people who know how to build to simply go and build, instead of waiting for permission inside a hierarchy.

I spent a decade doing exactly this work inside consulting. I was good at it, and I loved it. I'm building Feasible after a hard reset, and I'd make the same choice again.

What pulls me is the chance to create outcomes bigger than a line on a P&L: an operator whose shift got safer, a patient whose diagnosis came earlier, a planner who goes home on time because the system caught the problem first. Cost and revenue impact follow from that, and teams come out more capable with AI than they went in. I also want to find out whether a technical founder can build something genuinely different in the advisory space.

03 · The industries

Systems that cannot fail.

People sometimes ask why I'd plant a flag in industrial AI (aviation, manufacturing, defense) as though it were a dead, beaten horse.

I'd argue it's the opposite of dead. These are the systems that have to work, at any cost, because real people depend on them. The room for error is minimal, which is exactly what makes the problem hard and exactly what makes solving it worth something. That tension, between the thrill of innovation and the discipline of systems that simply cannot fail, is the most interesting place I know to work.

Decision intelligence, forecasting, recommendation, and now agentic AI, aimed squarely at the operations that keep the physical world running. Healthcare is on that map too, for the obvious reason: the chance to touch millions of lives.

What I've learned working across them is that the hard problems rhyme: a forecasting method that tamed volatility on a semiconductor line answers a supply-chain question in consumer goods, and a maintenance-prediction pattern from the factory floor maps onto fleet reliability in aviation. Most of the value is in seeing those patterns early and carrying a solution into an industry that hasn't met it yet. And the people doing this work, the aeronautical, mechanical, and systems engineers, are a privilege to serve: no room for corporate fluff, everyone focused on the real work.

04 · Why me

Comfortable in the ambiguity.

I'm cross-disciplinary by instinct and a little allergic to staying in one lane. Over the years that's meant work like the Nestlé build inside FDA-regulated factories and fleet optimization for a major airline. The common thread isn't an industry. It's a temperament: comfortable in ambiguity, happiest when I'm trusted to figure it out.

That temperament didn't come from a classroom. I grew up on the coast of India near wildlife, where the background hum of survival lights a particular fire in you, raised by two entrepreneur parents who made their living by controlling their own destiny and left me congenitally suspicious of the status quo. By the age of nine I was paying my own way through school, on a belief common where I'm from: that savings is the truest form of investment. I loved animals enough to quit eating meat at five. Thirty years later, still going.

A footnote I'm oddly fond of: the US government classifies me as an alien of extraordinary ability. It's a funny phrase to carry, but the petition behind it had real backing from government organizations, universities, and clients, and I'm quietly proud of it.

But I learned the most from the mountains. Ultra-endurance events, a solo unsupported ride from Canada to Mexico, a multi-season thru-hike. Every wrong turn into a snowstorm or a day without enough food taught me something about resilience and survival instinct that I couldn't have learned any other way. None of that came with a credential, and I didn't want it to: it stays pure that way. But it's where I learned to read a situation as it's going wrong and keep moving anyway, which is most of what this work actually asks of you.

If you've read this far, I'm impressed. Truly. It means more of my story landed with you than I had any right to expect, and I'm grateful for your time and attention.

I'm not raising money right now. Independence keeps me true to the mission, and lets me earn the ability to scale rather than borrow it.

I haven't figured all of this out yet, and I don't pretend to. I'm always learning, and nothing worth building ever gets built alone. When you back a solo founder, you're backing the rider as much as the horse, so I wanted you to meet the rider. If any of this resonated, here's how to take it forward.