Now

Ladakh is a place which makes you feel insignificant not in nihilistic way but in a hopeful absurd way that it fills you with energy and hope while making you insignificant, it makes you feel that you are just very small part of this big ever unexplored world. You look at mountains with beauty but soon realize that it is as ruthless for everyone as it is for you. Ladakh is unforgiving, no one is special the only special thing is the grand Himalayas, but then soon enough you realize that even Himalayas are smaller at the larger scheme of the earth and the world and so on. While riding across the valleys and mountains even though you are insignificant and can die in an instant, you realize that you are free, you are liberated, while the only thing that is ever guaranteed is life and death you look up the mountains and appreciate the beauty, maybe realizing that enjoy the passage of time is the only meaningful thing.

Most of my days go into voice AI — I work as a founding engineer at smallest.ai, building systems that talk to people. It keeps me close to the question I can't stop circling: what does it do to us when machines start doing the talking and the thinking?

On the side I'm building Clove, a curated reading feed that keeps your reading free from the algorithm. It started as a Telegram digest and is slowly becoming a real product.

I also rebuilt this site — the one you're looking at — and I'm moving my writing out of Notion and into the open. The backlog is embarrassingly larger than the published list, which is the point of publishing it.