Every home
deserves someone
who keeps track.
We have all imagined it. The quietly brilliant assistant who knows where everything is, what everything cost, and who still owes whom. We are not flying around in suits of armour yet. But we got closer than you would think.



On any given day
Running a home is hectic. We know.
We have watched our parents stress over shopping lists. We have watched flatmates go around in circles over one line in a group chat.
arrey, maine ye kab kharida tha?
It lives in WhatsApp. It lives in the notes app. It lives nowhere, really, which is the problem.
Now, if we told you we had an app that streamlines all this, you would reasonably assume we were selling you a glorified spreadsheet.
We are not.
A munshi kept the books. In old Indian households, he was the one literate, numbers-sharp figure trusted with the ledger, the records, and the correspondence. Everything nobody else could be bothered to track, he tracked. Quietly, and completely.
Ours does the same. Only rather more modern.
The household ledger
Expenses, shopping, resources, duties, and the household calendar.
One place, one record, one version of the truth.
Log it yourself in a tap, the way you would in any good app. Or do not bother, and tell Munshi instead.
Expenses and splits
What was spent, by whom, and who owes what. Settled before anyone has to ask.
Shopping lists
What the house is short on, tracked as it runs out, not after.
Resources and stock
A running count of what is actually in the house.
Tasks and duties
Whose turn it is, stated plainly, and quietly tracked.
The household calendar
Rent, bills, guests, and everyone's comings and goings, per person.
Or do not type at all
Just tell him.
Say what actually happened, in the words you would actually use. “bill came, fourteen hundred.” “four people over tonight.” He sorts it into the right place, updates what needs updating, and lets you get on with your day.
No forms. No dropdowns. No app to learn.



Munshi is optional. Every list, every split, every reminder works perfectly well without him.
He is simply the fastest way through, for the days you do not have the patience for forms.
He grows with you
He does not start over every time.
Munshi learns the house. Who pays late. Who hosts every weekend. Which guest does not drink, and which one you should never seat next to the speaker. The longer he keeps your books, the less you have to explain.
In the first week, he confirms what you tell him.
By the third month, he has already handled it.
The whole house
Everyone in the flat has him.
One ledger. One calendar. One list. Everyone sees the same books, because that is the only way a shared house works.
But he is not the same with everyone. He knows who pays before you ask and who needs asking twice. He knows who hosts every weekend. He speaks to each of you a little differently, because he has learned each of you differently.
And when someone owes you a hundred rupees, you do not have to be the one to bring it up.
The books are open.
The conversations are private.
Get in touch
Say hello.
Questions, ideas, or a household in crisis. We read everything.