Give Their Voice A Forever

Your elder's life, in their own voice, arriving in yours.From home to wherever you are.

A young Indian man sits beside a wooden desk in a modest office, hands folded over a folder, waiting before his first job interview.

The day your grandfather sat for his first interview

A young Indian girl runs barefoot through a sunlit courtyard, her yellow dupatta streaming behind her, grinning mid-prank.

The prank your mother still laughs about

An elderly Indian woman grinds spices on a stone slab beside an open hearth, firelight catching the dust rising from her hands.

The recipe amma never wrote down

You built a life far from home, but the stories stayed behind.Alfaaz talks with your elders on WhatsApp, in their own language, and brings every story to you in their own voice, kept forever.

The Distance Is Real

You want to listen. They want to tell. Life keeps getting in the way.

You're 8,000 km away. Juggling work, bills, health, relationships and building a life for yourself. They're home, with a lifetime of stories and no one sitting across from them to hear it.

Your worldAbroad
An Indian man in his early thirties drinks coffee at dawn in his apartment kitchen abroad, laptop bag already on his shoulder.
Different time zones, different routines, and a life unfolding far apart.
Their worldHome
Elderly parents at morning chai in their living room in India — he reads the paper, she lifts her cup mid-smile.

It's not that you don't care.

It's that there's never enough time. So the stories keep waiting.

How it works

Nothing new for them to learn. Everything for you to keep.

How it works

We do the asking. They just talk

We ask on WhatsApp

A warm question lands as a voice note. No app, no account to set up.

They reply by voice

In Hindi, Indian English, Marathi, Telugu, Bengali, Tamil or Gujarati. At their pace, when the mood strikes.

Each reply builds into their story

We shape every answer into a page your family keeps, the original recording kept with it.

See the full flow
What you get

Every story becomes a page

A painted memoir chapter cover: a bright folded saree and a plate of mangoes on a sunlit village verandah, glass bangles scattered on the floor.A growing memoir

Chapter Two · Childhood

The Brother I Dressed as a Bride

वो चल तो एकदम character में रहा था, पर जब ऊपर गली में नितिन ने देखा, फिर तो जो शर्मा के भागा है
See everything they keep

Voices Already Saved

These families said yes. Here's what they sound like.

Mohan Kumar of Delhi

Mohan Kumar, 62

Delhi

0:25
Pankaj Sharma of Jaipur

Pankaj Sharma, 56

Jaipur

1:47
Sukirti Joshi of Lucknow

Sukirti Joshi, 60

Lucknow

0:19
Vibha Anand of Delhi

Vibha Anand, 55

Delhi

0:51

Swipe to hear more

Read what they said

Mohan Kumar, 62, Delhi

इन सब में एक दोस्त रह गया जिसका हम नाम नहीं लिया वो है संजय। वो बहस नहीं करता था, सिर्फ सुनता था। आज भी उसका यही हाल है। बोल नहीं पाता, logic से शब्द नहीं है उसके पास इतने, लेकिन सुनता अच्छा है। वक्ता नहीं है, श्रोता बहुत अच्छा है।

There is one friend among all of them whose name I have not said: Sanjay. He never argued, he only listened. He is still the same today. He cannot speak much, he does not have that many words for an argument, but he listens well. He is not a speaker. He is a very good listener.

Pankaj Sharma, 56, Jaipur

अरे तब हम बहुत छोटे बच्चे हुआ करते थे ना। तो हमारे मामा जी का एक नया घर बन रहा था, जो Urban Estate, करनाल में था। तो हम वहां जाया करते थे। तो वहां मस्ती की सबसे बड़ी बात पता क्या थी? मेरे जो दोनों cousin थे ना, अरुण और तरुण, उनके पास ना bicycle हुआ करती थी। तो हम bicycle पे वहां जाते थे घर देखने के लिए कि construction चल रही है, labor काम कर रही है। तो हम थोड़ी देर वहां अपना पहले time pass करते थे और आसपास ना पूरा ground खाली था वहां पर। दूर-दूर तक अभी घर सबके बन रहे थे क्योंकि new location थी सारी की सारी। तो वहां क्या हुआ, एक बार ही ना कुछ जो donkey होते हैं ना वो हमें नजर आए। तो एक बड़े वाले cousin ने कहा, “अरे आज donkey पकड़ते हैं।” “अरे donkey कैसे पकड़ेंगे?” “अरे नहीं यार, donkey की सैर करेंगे।” “अबे गधे की सैर कौन करता है?” सब हंस पड़े। कहता है, “नहीं-नहीं यार, आज पकड़ेंगे।” हमने क्या किया? बच्चे तो थे शरारती, खुराफात तो हमारे भी अंदर थी। हमने एक cycle का tyre लिया, bicycle का जो tyre होता है। उसके साथ हमने एक लंबी सी rope बांधी और rope लेकर donkey के पीछे भागने लगे। जैसे hunters पकड़ते हैं ना, शिकार करते हैं गले में पकड़ के। ऐसे अपनी bicycle से उनके पीछे जाएं, उनके गले में किसी तरह से अपना tyre डालने की कोशिश करें कि tyre अंदर जाए तो हम उसको पकड़ सकें। At last, काफी देर के बाद हमने उसको पकड़ लिया। उसके बाद सबसे पहले जो उसकी सवारी थी ना, तो मैं सबसे छोटा था। तो मैंने तो चल लिया पकड़-पकड़ के डर के मारे। जैसे मेरा दूसरा cousin उस पे बैठने लगा, वो donkey ही गिर गया और हम सब खूब हँसे और उसके बाद donkey अपना उछल के भाग गया। ये तो हमने शुक्र मनाया कि किसी को उसकी लात नहीं लगी, नहीं तो हम दोनों में से कोई एक आधा तो चोट खा ही लेता। यह सबसे interesting story है जो मुझे आज तक करनाल की याद है।

We were very small children then. My uncle's new house was being built in Urban Estate, Karnal, so we used to go there. Do you know what the best part of the fun was? My two cousins, Arun and Tarun, had a bicycle. We would ride there to watch the house, the construction going on, the labourers working. We would pass some time there, and all around the ground was empty. Houses were still being built far into the distance because the whole location was new. One time we spotted some donkeys. The eldest cousin said, “Let us catch a donkey today.” “How will we catch a donkey?” “No, we will go for a ride on it.” “Who rides a donkey?” Everyone burst out laughing. He said, “No no, today we will catch it.” What did we do? We were mischievous children, we had that troublemaking in us too. We took a bicycle tyre, tied a long rope to it, and ran after the donkey with the rope, the way hunters catch their prey by the neck. We chased them on our bicycles, trying somehow to get the tyre over the neck so that we could hold it. At last, after a long while, we caught it. Then came the first ride, and I was the youngest, so I managed to sit and hold on out of fear. The moment my other cousin climbed on, the donkey collapsed, and all of us laughed and laughed, and then the donkey leapt up and ran off. We thanked our luck that it had not kicked anyone, otherwise one of the two of us would certainly have been half injured. This is the most interesting story I still remember from Karnal.

Sukirti Joshi, 60, Lucknow

यही कि इसे मैं दुनिया भर की खुशियां दूंगी। जितना भी बन पड़ेगा, जितना भी हो सकेगा सब दूंगी इसे मैं। हर तरह से ख्याल रखूंगी। खूब पढ़ाऊँगी, लिखाऊँगी। बस यही thoughts थे।

Only this: that I would give this child all the happiness in the world. Whatever I could manage, whatever was possible, I would give. I would take care in every way. I would educate this child well. Those were the only thoughts I had.

Vibha Anand, 55, Delhi

एक बार मेरे birthday पर बहुत interesting बात हुई। हमारे घर में TV नहीं होता था तो हम साथ वाले घर में ऊपर third floor पर किसी के घर में बैठकर TV देखा करते थे। तो कोई program आ रहा था, बड़ा interesting सा। तो मैं बैठ के देख रही थी और मैंने time पे ध्यान नहीं दिया। उस समय पौने नौ हो गए थे। साढ़े आठ, पौने नौ हो गए थे और बुआ जी घर आ गई थीं। ये संतोष बुआ, नानी बुलाते हैं जिनको। तो मुझे भैया बुलाने आया। “aunty आ गई हैं, बुला रही हैं।” मैं बहुत डर गई। मैंने कहा, अरे गुस्सा करेंगी बहुत कि इतनी late हो गई। मैं जैसे ही घर आई, वो मेरे लिए बहुत सारा खाने का सामान ले-लेकर आई हुई थीं। उस दिन मेरा birthday था।

Something very interesting happened on my birthday once. We did not have a TV at home, so we used to sit in a neighbour's house on the third floor and watch television there. Some programme was on, a very interesting one. I sat watching and lost track of the time. It had become a quarter to nine by then. Half past eight, a quarter to nine, and my aunt had come home. This is Santosh Bua, the one the children call Nani. My brother came to fetch me: “Auntie has arrived, she is calling you.” I was very frightened. I thought she would be angry that I was so late. The moment I came home, she had brought armfuls of food for me. That day was my birthday.

589 min
of their voices, recorded
97,339
of their own words
72.6
messages per engaged elder, on average
1,075
people, places & moments kept

every number measured from our own records · refreshed daily · 2026

Before you ask

Every family had the same doubts

Will my mother find this strange?

Most elders already send voice notes to family on WhatsApp. Alfaaz uses that same familiar habit: a short text introduces itself first, she taps once to begin, and from then on a warm voice note arrives and she replies when she feels ready. There is no camera, account, or new app for her to learn.

What if they don't want to continue?

They can ignore a prompt or answer later. Alfaaz is designed for pause-friendly conversations, and families can stop future prompts if an elder asks them. Anything already shared remains in the family archive unless the family requests deletion.

What language does it work in?

Live elder conversations currently support Hindi, Indian English, Marathi, Telugu, Bengali, Tamil, and Gujarati. Hindi/Hinglish code-mixing is handled naturally, and family words like Amma, Nani, Dada, Dida, and English names are expected.

Does my elder need to install any new app?

No. Alfaaz works entirely through WhatsApp, which most Indian elders already use every day. There is nothing new to download, no account for the elder to create, and no screen to navigate. They simply reply to a voice note the way they already do with family.

How is Alfaaz different from just calling my parents?

Phone calls matter, but they depend on everyone being free at once and often stay with daily logistics. Alfaaz is asynchronous, so an elder can answer at their own pace. Its questions are designed to dwell on memories that ordinary calls rarely reach: the first job, the old neighbourhood, the recipe that was never written down.

What kinds of stories does Alfaaz help capture?

Alfaaz surfaces stories families rarely think to ask about: childhood games and mischief, how your grandparents met, the first time your parents left home, the hardest year they lived through, and the people who shaped them. It also catches the texture of ordinary life. The smell of a grandmother's kitchen. The sound of a grandfather's workshop. The things that disappear quietly when no one thinks to ask.

My parents live in India and I am living abroad. Can I still use Alfaaz?

Yes. This is exactly who Alfaaz is built for. A family member abroad signs up, adds their elder's WhatsApp number, and Alfaaz holds the conversations in India. You get the growing memoir wherever you are. Many families in early access are NRI children who want their parents' and grandparents' voices kept for the next generation.

What does the memoir actually look like?

It is both a screen and an object. The family workspace keeps every conversation with its audio and transcript, plus story summaries, life chapters, people, places, and unfinished threads that grow after each session. In the post, every plan sends one chapter printed as a scroll each month, and the quarterly and yearly plans add a hardcover book of their stories, printed and bound once a year. There is no self-serve export or PDF download; the print arrives by post.

My father has early-stage memory loss. Can Alfaaz still help?

Yes, and this is often when families find Alfaaz most urgent. Alfaaz asks short, specific questions one at a time, not broad prompts that can feel overwhelming. Many stories that seem forgotten can still be reached through a precise question about a particular moment or sensory detail. Families who begin early almost always find that their elder remembers far more than expected when given the right prompt.

How do I explain Alfaaz to my elder?

Frame it plainly: 'We are trying to save your stories. You will get voice questions on WhatsApp, and you can reply whenever you feel like it.' Alfaaz does not pretend to be a family member; it is a family-arranged service that should feel simple and respectful.

If you're reading this and wondering if it's too late,it's not. Not yet.