Where curiosity
comes from.

I grew up in Delhi. A city simultaneously ancient and relentlessly modern. Chaotic and deeply ordered.

My mother is from Kanpur, but she grew up in Arunachal Pradesh, where my grandfather was posted as a teacher. Teachers from across India lived and worked there together, their families alongside the local community. Languages, traditions, ways of seeing the world. She grew up in the middle of all of it, and she carried that forward.

My father spent his career at Hewlett-Packard, starting in operations and retiring as National Sales Manager. He was not an engineer. But he spent thirty years inside a technology company and never stopped being curious about what it could actually do. Those Intel stickers on laptops meant something different in our house. I used to look at them and try to imagine what was happening inside. That question stayed with me.

I have a younger sister. She does not ask whether something is appropriate before she does it. She just does it. She rides a motorcycle. That one actually moved me. Growing up alongside her gave me two things I did not expect to get from a sibling: a real sense of responsibility, and the habit of staying open to how someone else sees the world.

I was a JEE candidate. That examination is how India decides who gets to call themselves an engineer. I sat it and cleared it. Then chose Melbourne and electrical engineering at Monash. People thought it was an odd choice. I thought it made complete sense.

That curiosity about what is happening at the level you cannot observe became my career. From silicon wafers to wearable biosignals. Same instinct, different scale.