You weren’t supposed to land here.
And yet, here you are — reading words I wrote in silence, probably without ever meeting me. That, in itself, is poetic. I didn’t build this page to impress. I built it to express — not who I am in bullet points, but in presence. This site isn’t a pitch deck or a personal ad. It’s a door left slightly open, for the kind of minds that like wandering into rooms uninvited.
I start early. Always have.
I never waited for permission. While most people followed maps handed to them, I trusted something quieter — my own gut. That still voice inside me that whispered, “Try it now. Build it now. Learn it now.” Even when nothing made sense, I listened. And it led me to places no curriculum ever mentioned.
I don’t think in terms of “career plans” or “exit strategies.” I think in ideas. And when one grabs me — really grabs me — I follow it. I’ve always believed that the best things come from impulse wrapped in intention. That’s how this site was born too.
This isn’t a pitch. It’s a reflection.
I wasn’t sure what to write here. So I did what I always do when I’m unsure: I stared at the blank page until it stopped staring back. Then I wrote this.
No elevator pitch. No bullet points. No pretending I know more than I do.
Just this: I’m someone who thinks a lot — sometimes too much — about the gap between what we say and what we mean. About how often we speak in punchlines when what we really need are pauses.
Everyone’s busy performing. I get it. That’s how the game works. But what if we stopped? What if — just for a second — we stopped trying to be impressive and started being honest?
This isn’t a portfolio. It’s a page.
Not a statement of purpose — more like a glitch in the system.
A moment to say: Hey. I’m here. And I think. And I care.
If you’re reading this, maybe it wasn’t meant for you. But maybe that’s exactly why you should be reading it.
So no, this isn’t a pitch.
It’s something quieter. Maybe even something real.
Calm over chaos. Depth over noise.
I’m not interested in fast money, fast fame, or fast anything, really. I value silence. Clarity. A cup of coffee that’s not rushed. I believe there’s more power in one thoughtful project than in ten shallow ones. I’d rather go unnoticed building something real than go viral for building nothing.
And I mean this sincerely — if your project is bold, thoughtful, and rooted in real change, I’ll show up. Even if you can’t pay. Because the kind of impact I want to make can’t be measured in bank transfers. Not everything I do has to be monetized. Some things just have to be meaningful.
I’m not looking for everyone. Just the right few.
I don’t want thousands of followers. I want quiet collaborators. People who think deeply, obsess slowly, and dream in tangents. People who look at broken systems and feel a moral itch to fix them — not because it pays well, but because it matters.
If you’re someone who writes before they speak…
Who builds late into the night not for deadlines, but for dopamine…
If you’ve ever been called “too intense,” “too idealistic,” or “too curious” — then we’re already on the same frequency.
When you leave, I want you to wonder.
Not about what I do. That’s in the other tabs.
But about who I am.
I hope this page doesn’t give you closure. I hope it gives you questions.
Like — “Why does this feel familiar?” or “Who even writes like this anymore?”
And maybe, if the curiosity lingers long enough, you’ll reach out.
Until then, this corner of the internet will wait quietly.
Like a book on a shelf you didn’t expect to love — but did.
My Timeline
A life in phases — each one a chapter, not a checklist. Here’s how it’s unfolded so far:
Phase 1 — High School (2024–2026)
Finished middle school with a 3.7/4.0 CGPA — solid, not groundbreaking, but it left me hopeful. With an eager mind and a restless heart, I stepped into high school, choosing Science as my major. It felt less like a decision, more like a quiet dare to myself.
Before high school formally began, I wandered — through content writing, e-commerce trials, marketing misadventures, and even fellowship applications. None bore fruit. But each failure whispered a different lesson, and I was listening.
I stumbled into open-source like one discovers a hidden alley in a busy city — by accident, but never by mistake. I launched my first public projects, contributed on GitHub, and started leaving footprints in a digital world where age, location, and labels didn’t matter.
Class 11 arrived with its own storm. My grades dipped to a 2.6/4.0 CGPA — but strangely, I wasn’t shaken. That year taught me to uncouple academic metrics from personal growth. Not everything that counts can be counted.
Amid the chaos, I authored Zero to Job, a student’s guide to exploring IT careers. It began as a monetization idea, ended as a near-free resource tucked in a quiet corner of the internet. Sometimes, impact matters more than income.
After many average experiments, one idea finally clicked — a quiet breakthrough, born from boredom and curiosity. I got 2.5 million streams on a song I posted randomly.
The start of Class 12 was beautifully unproductive. For two months, I didn’t study a word. Instead, I caught feelings for a girl who never looked back. (“psst… she never even noticed”)
Eventually, I joined HackClub — a place that felt like home for builders and dreamers. Collaborated with strangers who became friends. Built things that didn’t just work — they sparked something inside me.
Volunteered as a Program Manager at YIAW, helping students navigate their mental wellbeing. It wasn’t a fancy title — just quiet hours spent listening, guiding, and reminding young minds they weren’t alone.
Founded my own nonprofit: the DeyWeaver Foundation — a 501(c)(3). We got fiscally sponsored by IFERS, under the generous guidance of Professor Newton Lee — whose support reminded me that even the boldest visions need roots.
Eventually, I applied to become the Lead Organizer of Campfire Delhi at HackClub. I wasn’t expecting much — in my head, it was just another form to fill, another shot in the dark. But out of nowhere, I got selected.
Last updated: July 2, 2025
🛠️ Phase 2 — [Next Chapter Title]
Coming soon…