In a market that prides itself on transparency and “investor protection,” RRP Semiconductor Ltd has delivered a spectacular 70,000 percent performance — a number so absurd it deserves its own SEBI committee. The stock, which practically turned into a money-printing machine overnight, somehow waltzed through the BSE’s famed “surveillance” systems as if they were decorative QR codes rather than regulatory safeguards.
The extraordinary rally of RRP Semiconductor’s stock unfolded rapidly over 2025, with the share price shooting from a modest ₹22 in July 2024 to an astronomical peak of nearly ₹11,900 by November 2025—a mind-boggling surge of approximately 70,000 percent. The explosive rise attracted barely a whisper of regulatory inquiry until after the price had reached stratospheric heights. It was only on November 7, 2025, that the BSE sought clarifications amid swirling rumors, which the company later denied. Meanwhile, retail investors were left to marvel at a rally that defied all financial logic and market discipline, all while BSE’s surveillance system apparently hit snooze for over a year.
After social media buzzed with wild claims — from Sachin Tendulkar’s supposed involvement to a mythical 100-acre land allotment by the Maharashtra government — the company finally broke its silence. It clarified, rather sheepishly, that it has no connection to Tendulkar, owns no vast land parcel, and that its financials do not even remotely justify the stock’s sky-high valuation. But by then, retail investors were already busy calculating which island to buy with their imaginary returns.
Apparently, SEBI’s investor awareness campaigns are working — investors are now fully aware that they’re on their own. One might recall the recent fairy tale of CIAN Agro, the company linked to Union Minister Nitin Gadkari’s family, that also witnessed a “dream run.” These stocks seem to operate in a parallel universe where fundamentals are optional and surveillance is aspirational.
Meanwhile, the BSE continues to issue boilerplate disclaimers about “market integrity” and “real-time monitoring,” even as such price spectacles unfold daily in broad daylight. The exchange’s systems must have been on a meditation break when RRP Semiconductor shot into the stratosphere.
Perhaps the only consistent thing about Indian capital markets is how consistently they fail to notice what everyone else sees. If 70,000 percent gains don’t trigger an alert, maybe SEBI should just rename its surveillance department the Complaints Aftermath Division.
Back Story of RRP Semiconductor Ltd.
The company is no overnight wonder—it’s a vintage relic, born in 1980 as G D Trading & Agencies Limited, a company that had long since faded into defunct obscurity before dressing up in semiconductor garb in 2023-24. The impeccably timed name change coincided with India’s semiconductor push, cleverly exploiting the buzz while actually doing next to nothing in the sector. But the real magic lies in the share structure drama: the old promoter’s stake was massively diluted through a preferential allotment to a select few, bringing their own combined stake down to a scant 1 percent, while the new largest shareholder, intriguingly, refused to officially don the promoter hat, running the show from the shadows.
Complicating this spectacular confusion, an identically named company exists, owned by the non-promoter kingpin behind the scenes, which applied for the government’s coveted semiconductors PLI scheme—and famously did not qualify. Yet, the market, in a stunning display of collective gullibility (or regulatory blindness), embraced the semiconductor label wholeheartedly, with prices scaling heights that no underlying business reality could possibly justify. The two parallel companies blended into a bubbling cauldron of deliberate obfuscation, with the non-promoter master tactician denying any link, perhaps to keep legal troubles at bay while enjoying the spectacle of a soaring stock unrelated to its fundamentals.
Meanwhile, the original promoter seems to have found a perfect rent-seeking arrangement: happily watching the fictitious share price rise, perhaps cushioned by generous compensation to play the unwitting front-man. In the background, BSE apparently revels in the increased volumes and trading commissions, perhaps pleasantly distracted by the official charade of free markets championed by SEBI—who conveniently agreed that free markets mean zero intervention.
And then the grand finale: November 25, when some higher authority apparently whispers to BSE to pretend to act. The exchange moves the stock to a weekly once-trade madness, locking it in a 1 percent price band auction where trades are scarce but prices remain gloriously inflated. Brilliantly, the stock is essentially frozen at ₹11,000 forevermore—too precious to fall, too frail to trade—a monument to what happens when markets, regulators, and operators happily conspire in maintaining the greatest free-market illusion of all time. |
