A personal AI assistant, and an orchestrator
Aanya lives on your computer and inside your accounts. She handles your mail and your calendar, posts as you, keeps your servers up, and remembers all of it. She isn't a chat window you ask. She's the one who gets it done.
Ask most AI to reschedule a meeting and you get advice. Ask aanya and the meeting moves, the other person is told, and your day is fixed.
Your mail, your files, your terminal, your browser, your chats. She can touch all of it, so she can do most of it.
Your people, your projects, the thing you said in passing three months ago. It's all still there, and it shapes what she does next.
What she does
Every one of these is something she does end to end, not something she helps you draft.
Every account, one assistant.
She runs the machine.
Present, in your voice, where your people actually talk.
Nothing important gets lost.
The work doesn't stop when you do.
Forms, bookings, applications. Done, not described.
She delegates, then checks the work.
Same aanya everywhere you are.
A day with aanya
Before you've made coffee, she has read everything that came in overnight, across all your inboxes. You get a short brief: what's on today, what's waiting on you, and what she already dealt with. The replies that needed your voice are drafted. The ones that didn't are sent.
A meeting request lands on the one hour you'd blocked. She offers three other times instead, and the person picks one. A thread you've been ignoring for a week gets a reply that sounds like you on a good day. The socials stay warm without you opening a single app.
You say "get that bug fixed and deployed" and go for a walk. She hands the repo work to a coding agent, runs the tests, ships the fix with a proper commit and tells you when it's live. On the way back you ask her out loud why your laptop fan has been running. She looks, and tells you.
The nightly jobs run. A watcher notices a job posting you would want and the application goes in before anyone else is awake. A customer's order changes status and they get a message about it. You'll hear about all of it in the morning, in a few calm lines.
Memory
Most assistants start from zero every time you open them. Aanya carries the whole story forward: who your people are, what you're building, how you like things done, and what happened last time. Nothing important is forgotten. The context survives restarts, new machines and long gaps.
It's the difference between an assistant and a stranger who's good at typing.
In spring you mention you're quietly thinking about a new role.
Months later a good posting appears. Aanya applies with what she already knows, then tells you.
You say, once, that you hate calls before ten.
She hasn't booked one since. When someone insists, she pushes back on your behalf.
A customer had a rough time with a late order last quarter.
When they write again, she already knows, and the reply reads like it.
The record
Every number here is real, counted from aanya's own record of the work she's done. Not a projection. Not a demo.
11,788
Actions carried out across mail, calendars, files, servers and the open web — completed, not advised.
2,296
People, projects, preferences and history, kept across restarts and new machines.
221
Started and completed on her own, mostly overnight.
1,121
Asked to do something; she did it, not just answered about it.
From aanya's own records.
Where she works
Say it out loud. She answers and acts.
A CLI for when your hands are already on the keyboard.
A small floating panel on your screen. Always there, never in the way.
The full picture, from any browser.
Named plainly. None of these companies endorse aanya; they're simply where the work happens.
One aanya, many jobs
Not a feature list. Standing responsibilities she carries, day after day.
Most AI is a nice voice in a box.
She can touch everything, so she can do most of it. She remembers everything, so she does it right. She's your own assistant, and the best way to get a sense of her is to watch her.