A messy friend couldn't find anything. So he taught himself to code and built the app that fixes it.
Open Sortly and a warehouse becomes a photo album with brains. Snap a picture, slap on a QR label, and a shelf of cables, a crate of medical supplies, or a contractor's entire job site becomes something you can search, count, and sync across a team. That is the product Dhanush Balachandran has spent years building, and today he runs it as founder and chief executive of Sortly, based in Redwood City, California.
Sortly sells to the unglamorous middle of the economy: dentists tracking implants, schools tracking laptops, electricians tracking parts in a van, retailers tracking what is on the floor versus the back room. It is cloud-based, mobile-first, and built on the deceptively simple idea that a picture beats a spreadsheet. The app has crossed millions of downloads, and what started as one self-taught developer's side project now carries a team of roughly ninety people.
The interesting part is not that he built an inventory app. It is who he was before he built it. Balachandran spent more than fifteen years inside some of the most demanding product organizations on earth before he ever shipped a line of his own consumer code.
Balachandran put in more than seven years at Intel, moving through strategic marketing and product management roles across three countries. The work was not abstract. He advised senior management on billion-dollar calls, ran worldwide demand forecasting for CPUs, and handled pricing for server processors. Pricing, it turns out, never left him. He still describes himself as a "pricing geek," and years later he would pour that same fixation into the price of a one-dollar in-app subscription.
Then came Apple, where he architected and built core components for five ResearchKit-based medical research applications, the kind of software that turns an iPhone into a clinical data collection tool. After that, DJI, the drone company, where he served as a software engineering manager from 2015 to 2017. Somewhere in there was Y Media Labs. By any measure it was a complete career.
His training started earlier and further away: an electronics and communications engineering degree from NIT Trichy in India, followed by an MBA in strategic marketing and technology from the Indian School of Business. Engineer's logic, marketer's instinct. The combination explains a lot.
The spark was almost too ordinary to be a founding myth: a friend who could never find their things. Most people would offer the friend a label maker. Balachandran, a marketer who had never shipped a consumer app, decided to learn to code instead. He taught himself iOS development from scratch and built the first version alone.
He called it "My Things Where Are They." It was honest, descriptive, and a mouthful. The rename to Sortly was a small act of marketing discipline from a man who had priced server chips for a living, and the downloads followed almost immediately. The lesson he took from it is the kind of thing only a recovering marketer says out loud: the product was the same, the name was not, and the name mattered.
Not all of it was clean. He has spoken about the hardship of losing a co-founder early on, the sort of rupture that ends most young companies. He treated it as a source of best practices rather than a reason to quit. The patience showed up again here, the belief that the timeline is not yours to set.
A visual inventory. Every item is a photo, not a row in a spreadsheet. You recognize a thing faster than you read about it.
QR and barcode labels turn a phone camera into a counting machine. Check items in, check them out, find them fast.
Cloud-based and multi-user. The crew in the field and the office see the same shelves in real time.
Low-stock alerts, custom fields, and reports. The boring parts of inventory, automated so nobody runs out of the thing.
Sortly's genius is its lack of glamour. It does not chase one industry. It chases a chore that every industry shares. A construction crew uses it to track tools and materials across job sites. A medical office uses it to manage supplies. A school uses it to keep tabs on equipment. A retailer uses it across multiple locations. The same app, bent to fit each.
That breadth is why the keyword cloud around the company reads like a directory of small business: asset tracking, barcode labels, low-stock alerts, multi-location tracking, inventory automation, custom fields. It is software for the people who actually have to find the wrench.
A self-described science nerd who "nerds out" on science when he steps away from the desk.
A genuine foodie - the kind who takes the meal as seriously as the metrics.
An amateur mixologist. The pricing geek also knows his way around a cocktail.
He priced server CPUs at Intel, then got obsessive about pricing a one-dollar app. Old habits.
There is a version of this story that is all velocity: raise, scale, exit. Balachandran's is slower and more deliberate. He learned a craft he did not have, renamed a product until it worked, survived the loss of a co-founder, and kept the company pointed at a problem so ordinary that most founders would have scrolled right past it. Seed funding came in 2018; the patience came built in.
The throughline from Intel to Sortly is not the obvious one. It is not "big tech credentials." It is the conviction that pricing, naming, and forecasting are not back-office tasks but the actual product. He treated a consumer inventory app with the same rigor he once brought to billion-dollar chip decisions, and the customers, the contractors and clinics and classrooms, never had to know. They just found the wrench.