est. on a verandah, somewhere humid
I am Aravind, an independent software weaver. I build small, durable systems for people who would rather own their tools than rent them. No frameworks-of-the-month. No abstractions you cannot fold up and carry.
three differentiators, woven into every project
I prefer boring technology. Postgres before NoSQL. Server-rendered HTML before SPA. A cron job before a workflow engine. This isn't nostalgia — it's the cheapest way to keep something running for ten years instead of ten months.
01A lungi is one rectangle of cloth. You knot it for the field, fold it for the market, drape it for a wedding. I write small, sharp tools that compose — instead of large products that try to be everything for everyone.
02Every project ships with a one-page architecture letter, a handwritten runbook, and a phone number that reaches a real human. If I cannot explain a system to its owner in twenty minutes, I have not finished weaving it.
03drag a swatch · or click to unfold the project
Interactions: slow, on purpose. Each swatch unfolds into a full project letter.
A self-hosted inventory and billing system for a small textile cooperative. Runs on a single $5 VPS and a Raspberry Pi behind the counter. Survived three monsoon power-cuts in its first year.
how I work — slowly, in cotton, with chai · from letter to implementation
We begin with a letter — yours to me, mine back to you. No discovery call, no pitch deck. I want the verandah-version of the problem: who is suffering, since when, and what they have already tried.
Inside two weeks I send back a working swatch — a single feature, end-to-end, in production-shaped code. If the cloth feels wrong here, we stop, and I return the deposit.
The rest of the work happens in a shared repository, with a Friday handwritten note: what I wove this week, what I unpicked, and one question for you to chew on over the weekend.
At the end I hand over the cloth — code, runbook, deployment keys, and a one-page architecture letter. No retainer, no lock-in. You are free to wear it, mend it, or hand it to another weaver.
a letter, not a contact form