Anand Kumar
Summary: An 18 per cent market fall can slash your SIP returns by 35 points, even if you've done nothing wrong. Before you second-guess yourself, read this.
There is a particular kind of investor suffering that does not get enough attention. It is not the suffering of someone who made a terrible mistake—bought the wrong fund, chased a hot theme, panicked and sold at the bottom. Those stories get told often enough. The suffering I am thinking of is quieter and, in some ways, crueller. It belongs to the investor who did everything right and still spent three years staring at a return figure that made them question whether they had done anything right at all.
That investor is the subject of our cover story this month, and what the story reveals about the mathematics of compounding in the early years of a SIP is genuinely illuminating--not in a vague, motivational sense, but in a precise, data-backed sense that ought to change how investors read the numbers on their fund apps.
The core of it is this: a SIP return, especially in the first few years, is not a stable report card. It is a highly sensitive instrument that amplifies market movements by a factor most investors do not intuitively understand. An 18 per cent market correction can cause an early-stage SIP’s XIRR to collapse by 35 percentage points—not because the investor erred, but because a small, growing corpus works that way. This is not bad news dressed up as good news. It is simply how the maths works, and understanding it changes how one sits with the discomfort.
The cover story of Mutual Fund Insight April 2026 edition explains the maths in full, and I would encourage every SIP investor to read it carefully. If you want a simpler way to hold the idea in your head, here is one I find useful. A SIP is not one investment. It is a series of separate monthly investments made at the market price for that month. The SIP mechanism is simply a convenience that automates them. When you think of it that way, the impact of a market fall becomes immediately legible. If the market drops to the level it was at six months ago, your last six instalments will be underwater. Not your entire portfolio—just those six. The ones before them, made when prices were lower, are doing fine. You can see this clearly in your head, without any spreadsheet. The investor who intuitively understands that a correction hurts only the recent instalments and actually helps the ones yet to come is far less likely to make the error that truly costs money: exiting.
Because that is where the story gets serious. Patience in investing is not a personality trait some people are lucky enough to be born with. It is a conclusion you arrive at through understanding. The investors who stayed through the Global Financial Crisis and the ones who switched to the apparent safety of debt at the bottom are not fundamentally different kinds of people. They had varying understandings of what staying invested actually meant. The cover story puts that information front and centre.
Thirty years of writing about investing have taught me that the financial industry has a structural incentive to keep investors busy—new funds, new themes, new reasons to act. Compounding has the opposite requirement. It asks for inaction, or more precisely, the continuation of a single well-considered action over a very long time. The two are in constant conflict, and most of the time, the industry wins, not because investors are foolish, but because doing nothing is genuinely hard when the numbers look alarming.
What the data in our cover story make clear—across every market cycle since 1979 and across cohorts that started SIPs at the worst possible times—is that the destination was never really in doubt. The only variable was the length of the journey and the investor’s willingness to stay on the road.
The maths, given enough time, always finishes what you started.
Also read: The only way to actually lose money on your SIP







