This Part 1 in a series where I will be documenting all the things I’m learning/discovering about building inclusive products. While I am extremely passionate about this and keep learning and growing in this field, I’ve realized that this knowledge could be useful to many people out there.
Most product managers follow some variation of the following process for product design:
Beauty for the ears. Beauty for the heart. Beauty for the soul.
Heavenly music, abstract art and cathartic words.
Beauty in every corner of our existence.
And yet, the affirmation — limited.
Beauty for the eyes. Beauty in touch.
Beauty in the obvious.
Raptures from tunes, tears from poems.
And yet, spring blossoming amidst concrete — overlooked.
Darkness, cynicism, mystery, magic.
The deeper you look for it, the more you call it beautiful.
Is charm meant to be elusive?
Flowers giggling together in a bush, such happy colors!
Rays of sun creeping into office cubicles, a dash of much needed…
Reading a book is getting lost inside a whole new world. Conjuring different landscapes, people and their stories in your head. Living their lives, seeing what the author wants us to see. And just like that, each book you read is a new experience. You’ve had a tour of another city and have witnessed a whole new culture.
Travelling is where you are authoring the book you are reading. You are describing landscapes to yourself. You’re living the story you’re writing. Every new place you travel to makes a new mark on your personality.
Every travel experience is a great…
Blankets of fog everywhere. Dew settling down on the leaves.
Barely visible silhouettes of the surrounding hills.
Green. Green all around. The shade that you think only exists in paintings.
And fresh. So fresh. Almost like this small universe is born anew everyday.
Untouched. With no one to tell nature that it needs to look a certain way, it grows free and uninhibited.
Wild. Stalks of thistles, clusters of ground-ivy and clovers below your feet. So untamed that it grows on you too.
Alluring. Hypnotic. Beautiful. So much so that you stop caring to remember the path you’re taking, for…
We are storytellers. All of us. Emotional or dramatic, inspiring or just plain crazy, we all have a story to share. Conversations become meaningful when people start sharing their stories with each other. Tales are swapped, friends are made and your piggy bank of stories ends up getting richer and richer. The best part of all this is that your narratives are your very own anecdotes, your recollections of the most memorable events of your life. These stories have shaped the person into who they are, and sharing them with someone else gives them deeper insights into their own life.
So many things flow with the wind.
Whispers and secrets swirling with the autumn leaves,
Far-away laughter and the sounds of the ice-cream truck,
The smell of summer with the promise of the spring,
Oh, so many things flow with the wind!
Time does too; it flows with the wind.
The whispers aren’t heard anymore and secrets are forgotten,
Laughter is gone with the people who left and the ice-cream truck no longer comes to your lane,
The doom of the winter calls and so does the gloom of the rain.
Oh, so many things go away with the wind …
There was a time when girls wore flowers in their hair or pinned them on to their dresses, emanating freshness and grace. They adorned their pretty hair locks and curls with ribbons, colourful and bright. In India, they wore bangles that clinked together, anklets that jingled merrily and bindis that defined their lovely faces. Almost every girl’s basic grooming involved enhancing their soft features and embracing their strongest ones. Then most women discovered that usage of kohl beautified the appearance of their eyes, also protecting them from bacterial infections. What’s more, the usage of kohl soothed their eyes and absorbed…
Minutes pass by. Days drag on. There is a picture. I am standing in it. Probably folding all my laundry, not neatly I must add. It’s a weekend obviously, for what are chores on a weekday? Isn’t showing up to work enough?
That picture, I don’t always see. I am a part of it and seeing would mean removing myself from it. I don’t always see that picture but there are times when I do. One moment I’m trying to master the art of fitting all my clothes into the abomination that is my closet. The next moment, a huge…
Waves of warmth. Joyful dance. Wisps of smoke giving a touch of mystery. And oh so beautiful to look at.
However, there was always a distance. People kept telling her, ‘Be careful! Don’t go too close!’
She was but like a moth, drawn to the flame. She kept going closer, till one day when her curiosity was finally quenched. Fear and weariness now sat on top of it. Her love was scorched and very badly.
Yet, the longing never left. Why did she yearn so much for something whose basic nature was to repel on touch? Why did she want…
I am an early riser. Probably only so I get to experience the freshness of the world that comes with the beginning of a brand new day.
I love seeing flowers blossom during the spring. They’re a sign of warmth after the long, dreary days of winter.
And when I see a couple, holding hands, seemingly lost in their own world, my heart fills with joy. …
Product, Tech, Books and Poetry …