Yes, it’s that cliché. The two words every developer types before they start pretending to build the future. But let’s not underestimate clichés—after all, the universe itself began with a rather loud “Hello World,” just without the compiler errors.
I’m not here to introduce myself in the boring résumé style: X years of experience, Y achievements, Z buzzwords. No. This blog isn’t a LinkedIn post on steroids. It’s a window into the chaos of my curiosity—the kind that jumps from Ibn Khaldun’s philosophy of civilizations to Alan Turing’s machine dreams, from dusty manuscripts to bleeding-edge GPUs that sound like jet engines when they render a humble matrix multiplication.
For me, technology is not about gadgets and updates—it’s philosophy disguised as code. Every algorithm is an opinion about the world. Every line of software is a political statement: do we empower, do we exploit, do we liberate, or do we trap? Artificial Intelligence is not “artificial” at all; it’s just us, reflected back at ourselves, slightly distorted, like a funhouse mirror that occasionally beats us at chess.
I’ve built projects, launched platforms, wrestled with architectures that looked elegant on whiteboards but collapsed like badly baked cakes in production. And yet, in every failure, I discovered the same truth: building technology is less about knowing how to code, and more about daring why to code.
So, what’s the point of this blog? To ramble. To question. To laugh politely at the absurdity of our obsession with “the next big thing.” To blend philosophy with engineering, humor with seriousness, data with poetry. And perhaps, to sketch a small roadmap toward a future where intelligence—human or machine—serves something nobler than click-through rates.
If you came here for productivity hacks, you’re lost. If you came here for depth, wit, and the occasional sharp elbow to conventional wisdom—welcome.
After all, every “Hello World” isn’t just an output; it’s a beginning.
Welcome to mine.