I didn't grow up around computers. The first time I wrote a few lines of code and saw something actually happen, it felt a little bit like magic. I'm honestly still chasing that feeling. Most of what I build now starts the same way—a tiny "wait, can I make this?" that I can't put down until I've tried.
Over the last year, I've worked on real products with real constraints: understanding what people need, collaborating with a team, chasing down stubborn bugs, and learning how good software takes shape beyond the first working version.
I don't fit neatly into one label. Some days I'm shaping an interface, some days I'm deep in an API or database, and some days I'm figuring out how AI can make a product genuinely more useful. I like being able to follow a problem wherever it leads.
Outside of code, I'm usually the friend who texts at 1 AM about a song, a movie scene, or a thought that wouldn't leave me alone. I like long conversations more than long meetings, quiet mornings, loud cricket matches, and the kind of evenings where nothing is happening but everything feels okay.