Fewer Words.More Pictures.
Landing pages, marketing sites and consumer apps. The other two are long reads — this one is a gallery.
- what's in here
- Marketing sites · Consumer apps
- my role
- End to end — UX, visual, design system
- surfaces
- Web · Mobile
- on this page
- 05 products · 52 screens
Made of Paper.
An academic writing marketplace — students post an assignment, vetted experts pick it up. Public site and the signed-in product.
bluepen sells help with paper, so I built the interface out of paper. Torn edges instead of section rules, a sticky note instead of a tooltip, perforated coupon stubs instead of promo cards, handwritten numerals on the stat tiles. One metaphor carried through nine screens, doing the work a style guide usually has to argue for.
↳ A 6,800px page with no section rules anywhere. Every band change is a torn edge instead, which is what stops one long scroll from reading as a stack of unrelated slides.
↳ Proof before biography. The dot-map and the three counters land above the founder story, because someone deciding at 1 a.m. wants evidence of scale first and the origin story never.
↳ You are not alone — the avatars sit on concentric rings like a signal going out. Contact is where a stuck student's anxiety peaks, so the illustration answers it before the form does.
↳ Instructions live on a sticky note pinned beside the fields, not inside a tooltip. It is the same object a student already has stuck to a real desk, so nobody needs to be taught what it is.
↳ Domain is a tab, not a dropdown, because it changes the form rather than a value — switch to Professional Writing and the Title field disappears outright. A control that rewrites the fields beneath it has to stay visible while you fill them in.
↳ Three tiles count the platform. The fourth counts hours saved — the only number on the screen measuring what the student actually bought, which is why it earns a tile rather than a line of copy.
↳ Completion is a state, not a nag. One quiet pill at 100% — no progress ring still guilt-tripping a user who has already finished.
↳ The avatar reacts to your own balance. A wallet is usually the flattest screen in a consumer product; here it is the one that gets a laugh out of an otherwise administrative visit.
↳ Offers are drawn as tear-off coupons, with the ₹500 printed on the perforated stub — the part you would physically hand to a friend. The metaphor puts the value on the half that leaves your hands.
scroll sideways · click any screen for the full page
Two Temperatures.
A mental-wellbeing companion — anonymous listeners on one side, and the course that trains and certifies them on the other.
sayHey has to hold two opposite registers at once. For someone looking for help, nothing on the page is straight — every section boundary is a soft curve. For someone being trained to give help, the curves vanish and the screen goes plain and text-first. Same brand, deliberately different temperature, because a course has to feel like a qualification and not a campaign.
↳ There is no straight horizontal edge anywhere on this page — every section boundary is a soft curve. On a mental-health product the absence of hard lines is the tonal argument, made before a single word gets read.
↳ The same page rebuilt for the other side of the marketplace — identical structure, identical cadence, but the phones now show earnings and a client queue instead of a safe space. Two audiences, one template, so the supply side never reads as an afterthought.
↳ The course drops the brand entirely. No curves, no yellow, no characters — a contents rail and text. Decoration competes with a mindfulness lesson, so this is the one surface where the design system is asked to get out of the way.
↳ Ten questions on one page with the contents pinned beside them, not a one-per-screen wizard. In an assessment about your own state of mind, seeing how much is left is the difference between reflection and dread.
↳ The certificate is a key, not a badge — it is what unlocks the partner app. This is the hinge where the funnel turns a user into supply, which is why the install sits immediately under the score rather than three emails later.
↳ Even the dead end keeps the voice. A product whose entire promise is that you are not alone cannot afford one cold screen, and the error page is the easiest place to forget that.
scroll sideways · click any screen for the full page
A Ladder You Climb Alone.
The product the whole site points at — anonymous peer support, a private journal, a library, and a psychiatrist when it comes to that.
The four tabs are a ladder of exposure. Journal is you on your own, Learn is you and an article, Community is you and strangers, and booking is you and a professional charging ₹200. Someone opening this at two in the morning picks their own rung — which is the entire reason the bottom bar has four entries instead of one large Get Help button.
↳ A phone number and nothing else. Every field you add here is a reason for someone in a bad hour to close the app instead.
↳ The brand's speech-bubble faces stop being decoration and become the input. Naming a feeling is hard; pointing at a face that already looks how you feel is not.
↳ The first thing on the home screen is a drawing of a group of people sitting together. Before any feature is offered, the app shows you what it is actually selling.
↳ Groups are filed under the part of life they belong to — Family, Career — rather than by popularity. You arrive already knowing which one is yours.
↳ Every group is badged Break Ice or Paid Group in the list itself. Whether a stranger is a peer or a professional you're paying is the one thing you should never discover late.
↳ Categories are photographs of people, not icons. An icon would turn somebody's hardest subject into a pictogram.
↳ The library is the rung that costs nothing and exposes nothing. Plenty of people will only ever use this tab, and the design treats that as a complete outcome rather than a failed conversion.
↳ Articles are titled as the questions people actually type — what is anxiety, how prevalent is it — and the promoted doctor is labelled promoted, sitting below the free answer rather than above it.
↳ Each row leads with years of experience and sessions taken, not a star rating. Counts are harder to game than stars, and this is not a category where a fake five is harmless.
↳ The fee sits above the calendar, and unavailable days and times are greyed rather than hidden. Seeing the real shape of someone's week is what makes the ₹200 feel like a booking instead of a gamble.
↳ The quietest rung, and the only one where nobody reads what you write. The streak counter is the one piece of gamification the product allows itself, because turning up is the entire behaviour being asked for.
↳ The profile counts buddies, not followers. One word, and it decides whether the screen reads as a support network or as an audience.
scroll sideways · click any screen for the full page
Banao Khudka Brand.
The B2B ordering app a kirana owner actually holds — the third surface from the One Kiraana case study, up close.
The logo says banao khudka brand — build your own brand — and the app has to mean it. So ordering is only half of what these screens do. A shopkeeper adding a sack of chia seeds also sees what DMart and JioMart charge for it, sets their own margin, names the product for their own back label, and prints their own barcode. Wholesale in, private label out, on a phone held in one hand.
The written case study covers the three-surface model this sits inside — the admin console, the godown worker view, and this. read One Kiraana in full
↳ The whole screen is a photograph of the goods themselves. This buyer stands in a room full of these sacks all day — showing the product beats any illustration of an app.
↳ Phone and OTP, no password. Nobody is inventing and remembering a password for a wholesale account between customers.
↳ Ordering for Janata Store sits above everything, because an owner with three shops ordering into the wrong one is the single most expensive mistake this app can allow.
↳ Every packaging and SKU option carries a small badge with the quantity you last took. Reordering is the real job here, so the history is printed on the buttons rather than filed in a separate tab.
↳ The screen the product is really about. Competitor prices sit right where you set yours, the estimated earning updates as you move the margin, and the label name is validated against the ones you have already used — because a duplicate on a shelf is a duplicate forever.
↳ The cart totals in kilograms as well as rupees, and out-of-stock lines stay struck through instead of vanishing. Bulk grocery is bought by weight, and a line that quietly disappears is a line you reorder wrong next week.
↳ No sooo OK! — OK is One Kiraana. The empty state is the one place in a working tool where a joke costs nothing, so it is the one place the brand gets to be funny.
↳ Reorder and Download Invoice sit on the card itself. Those two actions are most of why this screen is ever opened, so neither is buried behind the chevron.
↳ The status timeline runs newest at the top. You open this screen to answer one question — where is it now — and that answer should not be at the bottom of a list.
↳ A calculator that teaches the arithmetic rather than hiding it. Asking a shop owner to set a margin without ever showing how margin works is how you get a screen full of defaults nobody ever touches.
↳ Margins are set once per category and inherited by every SKU underneath. Atta and dal do not carry the same markup, and nobody is retyping that on item four hundred.
↳ Owner, store, and manager are three separate records. The person holding the phone is often not the person who owns the licence, and the account has to survive that.
scroll sideways · click any screen for the full page
Everyone Here Is Out Of Time.
An academic help marketplace seen from the student's side — post a requirement, compare writers, get it back before the deadline.
Nobody arrives here early. So the clock organises the product rather than the price: a live countdown on every posted job, average response time on every writer card, an urgency field on the contact form, and a headline that names the two-in-the-morning panic instead of the service. The crowd of hand-drawn strangers running across the marketing pages does the other half of the work — academic help carries a stigma, so the site is full of ordinary people and the sign-up asks only for a nickname.
↳ Escape the all-nighter trap — the headline names the problem the student actually has at two in the morning, not the service being sold. Nobody searching for this at that hour wants to read the word marketplace.
↳ The contact form asks for urgency before it asks for detail, and the reach claim is a dotted map captioned From Kashmir to Kanyakumari — a phrase every Indian student reads as a whole country rather than a statistic.
↳ The first field is nickname, not full name. Paying someone to help with your coursework is not something most students want their real name attached to, and the form says so before they have to ask.
↳ Two rows, both resumptions — pick up where you left off and continue talking. A dashboard for someone mid-deadline should open the things already in flight, not invite them to start something new.
↳ Six categories as tabs across the top, then one form. Tech Projects and Art & Craft need different questions, and choosing between them is easier than reading a dropdown of everything the platform can do.
↳ A running countdown to the deadline sits level with the budget, and the writers already contacted sit underneath. The two questions on this screen are how long have I got and who has replied, and nothing else competes with them.
↳ Every writer card leads with average response time and total deliveries. On a deadline, how fast someone answers is worth more than half a star, so those two numbers get the strip and the rating gets a corner.
↳ Every person in the list is labelled with their project, and every file ever sent is collected in a third pane. Coursework arrives as attachments, so the thing you will hunt for later gets its own column rather than a scroll.
↳ The top-up tiers are described by the work they cover — a small write-up, a final year project, a post-graduation thesis — not by discount. A student has no idea how many coins they need, but they know exactly which of those three they are staring at.
scroll sideways · click any screen for the full page
Give The Tool Away.
A conversational-AI platform for enterprises — and the two working tools it hands you before it asks for anything.
Enterprise AI usually hides behind a Book a Demo wall. Engati's answer is to give the tools away first. A WhatsApp pricing calculator that runs the real numbers and a link generator that works in three fields sit in front of the paywall — ungated, genuinely useful, quietly proving the platform before a salesperson ever calls. The marketing pages do the conventional job; the free tools do the honest one.
↳ Engage. Acquire. Retain. — three words that name the whole customer lifecycle, because Engati is sold to a buyer who owns all of it. The client logos land before the features, since at enterprise scale trust is the first objection.
↳ The AI product opens with a mind-map, not a headline. A tool whose whole pitch is that it thinks in every direction at once should not be introduced by a single line of copy — the diagram is the claim.
↳ A calculator that helps you spend less with WhatsApp — not obviously in Engati's interest, which is exactly why it earns trust. The most persuasive thing a platform can do is do your sum honestly before you have paid it a rupee.
↳ Three fields, no account, a working link at the end. This is the front door — a genuinely useful giveaway that ranks in search and gets bookmarked, pulling in the exact audience the platform is for, one small favour at a time.
scroll sideways · click any screen for the full page
More Landing.
This page is built to grow sideways. Each product is one block — a name, a sentence, the idea, and its own rail of screens.
thinking of something that could make the world a better place? let's talk.
free 1:1