Write a thought. Speak a memory. Save a photograph. Then, years later, simply ask — and rediscover the person you used to be.
Seven careful tools — each designed to turn passing moments into something you can return to, again and again.
Ask anything. Your memories answer — patient, accurate, kind.
Write a sentence. Record your voice. Snap a photo. Audio is transcribed; images are described. Everything becomes searchable, automatically.
Browse your years like a slow river — chronological, beautiful, never overwhelming.
Invite the people who were there. One trip, four perspectives — woven into a single shared memory.
Some moments are just yours. Lock them away — invisible to the timeline, invisible to the AI, invisible to us.
Every word, every voice note, every photograph is encrypted with keys only your device holds. We cannot read your life. We were never meant to.
Streaks, gentle reminders, and rewards that make reflection feel like something you look forward to — not another thing on the list.
Four steps. The first takes thirty seconds. The last lasts a lifetime.
Open the app, choose your format. Write a sentence, record your voice, or take a photograph. There's no friction, no template — only the moment, exactly as it was.
Audio is transcribed. Photos are gently described. Words are indexed by meaning, not just keywords. The archive understands, so you don't have to remember what you wrote or where you put it.
Open the chat months or years later. Ask anything. The AI replies with what you wrote, in the context you wrote it — never inventing, only reminding.
Some memories are richer with company. Open a Shared Nexus, invite your people, and let each person add their own lens to the same scene.
saved · just now
Every entry you've ever made — date-stamped, indexed, waiting. Scroll back through your own months like turning the pages of a book you wrote yourself.
Woke up to the world erased. Made coffee in the dark and watched for an hour without thinking. The quiet was the kind you can hear.
Voice memo, late dinner. "Two pinches of saffron, not three. And always wait until the milk hums before adding the rice." Auto-transcribed.
She said the most honest thing I've heard all year, and I didn't say anything back. I'll remember that. I want to remember that.
The whole valley was wrapped in cloud. Felt like flying without leaving the ground. Took only one photograph, on purpose.
Seven of us, three days, one shared archive. Priya added the boat photos. Rama added that recording of the fishermen singing at dusk. I wrote about the rain.
No single person remembers an evening completely. A Shared Nexus lets each person who was there add their own lens — their photos, their notes, their voice.
The same dinner, seen from four chairs. The same trip, told in four voices. What emerges is something none of you could have written alone — a memory richer than memory.
Tap any entry, send it to the vault. It vanishes from your timeline, your search, your AI chat — sealed behind a passcode only you remember.
The vault is encrypted with a key derived from your passcode — not stored on our servers, not recoverable by us. You hold the only copy. The way it should be.
One sentence a day. One photograph. One voice note before bed. Small things become a life when you keep them.
The chat doesn't search keywords — it understands meaning. Ask in plain words. Get answers in your own.
Every reply is grounded in your actual entries. The AI never invents, only reminds. And when you don't want to remember, you can simply close the app.
Three plans. Streak points unlock add-ons. Cancel any time. Export everything you've ever written, always.
We made SmritiQ because the most valuable thing you'll ever own isn't in a spreadsheet. It's in the quiet conversations, the small Tuesdays, the ordinary mornings that turn out, in retrospect, to have been extraordinary.
A small team — writers, builders, designers, archivists — based in India. We are not in a hurry. Neither are you, we hope.
Press, partnerships, feature requests, or just a kind note. We read every message ourselves.
Free, forever, to begin. No card required. No reason to wait.