The human
at the root.

Before any of the job titles, I'm just someone who can't leave a thing half-understood. Curiosity is the engine — hand me a system and I'll take it apart to see exactly how it fits, then itch to put it back together tighter than I found it. I became an engineer because building is the most honest way I know to turn an idea into something that actually exists, and because I genuinely love the craft of it.

In practice that's meant a few different worlds — most recently low-latency trading systems in Rust, before that fintech backend that moved millions through banks and couldn't afford to lose a single rupee or a single nine of uptime. Different domains, same pull: the thinner the abstraction, the happier I am. I care about the clean parts and just as much about the unglamorous 3am ones — recovery paths, observability, the pipeline nobody wants to own.

But the engineering is only half of why I'm here. What I really chase is the moment code stops being code and becomes a product — something a person actually reaches for. So I build: I take an idea, sand it down to the one thing that matters, and ship it into the world to see if it holds. Some of those become projects on this site; most start as a "what if" and a blank file. I'd rather have something out there getting used than something perfect that never leaves a branch. This site is where it all lives — writing, projects, the odd experiment — on a roof I actually control.

Why "invert the tree"

The name reads two ways. To an engineer it's the famous interview question — invert a binary tree, swap every branch top to bottom. To everyone else it's the older instruction: go back to your roots. Same words, opposite directions. I like living in that tension: pointed at a problem, it's a way of thinking; pointed at myself, it's a way of staying honest about where things come from.

What you'll find here

• Writing — long-form notes on systems, tools, and craft: the parts worth keeping after the build.
• Projects — things that ship, with the story of how. Some found their own users; one helped get a company off the ground.
• The occasional experiment that didn't fit anywhere else.

And here's the part I mean most: I'd genuinely like to hear from you. If any of this sparks something — you want to build a thing together, you've got a project that needs a careful pair of hands, or you just want to trade ideas about a hard problem — reach out. I'm always open to a good collaboration or a better conversation, and I write back. Pick whichever door below is easiest.