Pranay Patel

…Grew up in a Motel; here is his story.

There’s something quietly magical about the back room of a motel. The hum of industrial dryers, the clang of laundry carts, the soft sizzle of a pan behind a curtain of steam. For most, it’s just the underbelly of hospitality. But for Pranay Patel, it was the beginning of everything.

Pranay learned to whisk an omelet in the tiny kitchen tucked behind the laundry room of his family’s Days Inn motel. The sounds of the washers masked the whistle of the pressure cooker as his father, Sandip Patel, taught him the perfect way to beat eggs—his voice booming with "typical Indian dad" energy, his passion loud, his expectations louder. "I have core memories of being in that little kitchen in the back," he recalls.

That’s how Pranay grew up: not in a quiet, conventional home, but in the living, breathing belly of a budget motel—a childhood framed by folding sheets and late check-ins, by financial instability and unwavering ambition. And yet, from those modest beginnings, he’s built a legacy of success.

The Shift: Boston to Minnesota

Pranay was just five years old when his family moved from Gujarat, India, to the United States in 2003. His father started "working at the front desk, housekeeping, and doing everything in between" in a Boston-area motel. Money was tight. The dream was far.

Eventually, the family reunited in the U.S., staying in the home of a generous Indian family while saving every penny. Pranay’s father, fueled by relentless drive and a spontaneous spirit, partnered with his childhood best friend in Minnesota to purchase their first motel together. The Patels packed up their life once again, heading from Boston to Alexandria, MN, with nothing but vision in hand. "That's when they bought the motel Days Inn," Pranay clarifies.

More Than a Building: The Motel as a Classroom

Growing up in a motel isn’t always picturesque. As a kid, Pranay often felt the sting of embarrassment—the awkward explanations, the constant presence of guests, the reality that “home” didn’t look like his friends’. But behind that discomfort was something stronger: resilience.

“While my classmates were perfecting resumes and landing internships, I was running vendor calls from the back of a motel lobby.”

Money was a frequent guest in every conversation—sometimes absent, sometimes urgent, always important. "You're always worried about money," he states, calling it "guaranteed an issue." He watched his parents juggle risk with faith, stability with sacrifice. "We always lived frugally," he remembers. "It wasn’t until 18 that I realized that like, ‘oh, wow, we actually make a lot of money,’ but I’m thankful my parents never raised us being spoiled."

“At 18, I wasn’t learning powerpoint shortcuts. I was learning how to argue a disputed utility bill, how to file my parents’ taxes, and how to install security cameras when the installer ghosted.”

In 2008, when the U.S. financial collapse hit, Pranay’s father had grown to five or six hotel motels. Overnight, that number crumbled. "My dad had to forfeit, I think, three to the bank, and then the rest was available to sell." The family was at risk of losing everything. But as the economy collapsed, an idea planted decades earlier began to bloom.

Uganda: A New Chapter on Old Land

Back in the 1990s, Pranay’s father had purchased a piece of land in Uganda on a whim—a spontaneous investment most people would consider reckless. But in 2008, that land became his lifeline.

Leaving behind most of his U.S. properties, he relocated to Uganda and started a sugarcane farm. What began as a small agricultural project grew into a full-fledged empire: "800 acres of sugar cane," and a thriving real estate force in East Africa, now boasting "hundred, 200 unit apartment buildings." From builder to developer, Pranay's father "conquered Uganda as much as [he] wanted, and he kind of retired."

And all the while, Pranay watched—and learned.

Finding His Own Way

Despite his admiration for his father’s success, Pranay’s own path isn’t linear. He studied architecture at the University of Minnesota, thinking he’d join the family development business. But after just one year in the field, he realized the truth: "Architecture in America was really tough. We don’t get any design decisions until you’re 10 years in.” He realized this wasn't what he wanted to do. “I’m not making as much money as I always wanted."

So he pivoted—into technology. Pranay had always been curious about software, and he soon launched his own Agile culture consulting company. Today, he works in tech and his booming social media presence on Instagram; continuing to invest with the same quiet hunger he inherited—but on his own terms. "I’m not at all practicing what I studied," he admits, "but I’m grateful for what I studied because it taught me to think outside the box."

“I didn’t have deadlines. I had day-to-day fires. Restocking vending machines. Negotiating rates with suppliers. And the occasional “can you drive 3 hours to reset the router?” (It was never just the router.) There was no salary. No LinkedIn post. But I didn’t pay for rent. Or gas. Or college. And when life hit hard my parents always showed up.”

What makes Pranay remarkable isn’t just that he succeeded. It’s that he didn’t forget. He carries his past with pride—not just the successes, but the lawsuits, the betrayals, the nights where his parents fought over how to make the mortgage. "My dad's friend who used to live here, he himself screwed my dad over," leading to a "lawsuit that lasted two years." He remembers how hard it was to admit they were struggling. And he holds all of that not as shame, but as fuel.

Legacy and Lessons

Pranay says it best himself:

"Our parents did everything; they have this level of risk appetite that cannot be matched. That has definitely not passed down to the generation... because we were only built on a base that was higher than what our parents had. So for us, if we were to lose everything, we'd be down to the level that when they came, they started at. And they're okay to build up from that. I'm not. I am used to certain comforts in life that I don't want to give up on."

Where his father was bold, Pranay is measured. He takes risks, but he studies them. "I'm very risk averse investor," he states, elaborating that he does "a lot more analysis and understanding before I put any type of capital anywhere." He moves with purpose, not panic. He’s not trying to build something bigger than his father did—he’s trying to build something that lasts.

“I used to be jealous of my friends with internships. Now I realize: I didn’t miss out on work experience. I just had a different kind. The kind that teaches you to solve problems with no instruction manual. To keep receipts. To keep calm. To build trust. To fix the lock before calling someone else.”

And through it all, he remains grounded. He laughs at how his brain can’t stop calculating margins when he sees a new business: "The first thing my mind goes is like, how much margins do you think they're making?" He speaks with clarity about how much the motel taught him—not just about work ethic, but about heart. "I don't want my life to just be money focused," he shares.

“I didn’t clock into an office. But I still showed up every time it mattered.”

There’s a moment from the interview that still lingers in my mind. Pranay described standing in that tiny kitchen behind the motel laundry room—watching his father teach his sister how to whisk eggs. The dryers spinning. The pressure cooker hissing. His dad yelling, his heart full.

That image says everything about who Pranay is. Rooted in noise and hustle. Raised on spice and sacrifice. Built for more. And as he continues to grow—across industries, across continents—he carries that little kitchen in the back of that motel with him, every step of the way.