Fourteen girls are learning chenda. They have one drum between them.

What of this survives, and where it goes

Left column is a block of the page above. Right column is what it becomes now that Open Collective's own contribution flow does the work. Everything in the right column is a decision somebody still has to take — it just gets typed into a settings screen rather than built.

• The headline and the story → the collective's own description on its public page. Same words, their page. This is the largest single thing that survives untouched.
• ₹500 / ₹1,000 / ₹2,500 and the line about what each buys → tier copy. Someone writes those three sentences and the organisation has to stand behind them.
• UPI listed first, with the fee shown and not added → payment method ordering and the fee line, on the merged Razorpay provider.
• The citizenship tick → a required custom question at checkout, plus international payments left off on every Razorpay account. Two layers, unchanged.
• The refusal of foreign money as a short section with its own heading → a paragraph on the public page. Keep it a heading, not fine print under a tick.
• "Who you are giving to" — seven checkable facts → the collective's profile fields and its public "about". Less load-bearing than it was: this section existed to carry the entire burden of being believable because the profile was private. The public profile now carries most of it.
• The tax paragraph → the receipt, once the host's Indian registration number prints on it, and one line of tier copy. The wording rule is unchanged: Aikyam issues the certificate, never we.
• "What happens after you pay", as three things that happen to her → the receipt email's copy. Keep the framing; the word "sign up" still appears nowhere.

Reversed — decisions on this page that are now wrong

• Reversed: the progress figure is dated and attributed. "Counted by Aikyam, last updated 8 August" existed only because the number was published from our own record and could not be read from a private book. On a public collective it is live. Drop the stamp. A dateline on a live number reads as doubt about a number nobody should doubt.
• Reversed: the "And what raseed is" section. It existed because a cold arrival had nothing else to click and no about page behind it. There is one now. Whether anything of ours is named on this screen at all is open — see naming.html.
• Reversed: "there is nothing else to click through to." There is. The ledger, the expenses, the bills and the updates are all one tap away and all public.
• Reversed: the top bar carrying our wordmark. She is on Open Collective's page, under the organisation's name. Nothing of ours sits above the story.
• Resolved, not reversed: "a permanent public web copy of each update." The page below listed this as the one thing needing a yes. A public collective gives every update a permanent public address by default. The question is now the opposite one, and it is in the shaping document: whether an update should be restricted to contributors.

What this flow must not lose, and it is easy to lose in a settings screen

• Rupees, and nothing but rupees. Every rate is exactly 1, so any "converted at" line will render as ₹500 = ₹500. Hide it. A conversion that does nothing looks like a bug and invites the question "converted from what?"
• The fee is shown and not added. On UPI it is genuinely ₹0 and that is a real reason to choose UPI. If the merged provider adds the fee to the total instead of absorbing it, a ₹1,000 gift costs ₹1,023.60 and the page has broken its own promise.
• Her name is not published unless she chooses it. A public collective lists contributors. She gave from a bus and was never asked. Ask once, at the moment she gives, in one plain line — not in a profile setting she will never open.
• Nothing personal is asked at checkout. Email and the citizenship tick. No PAN, no name, no address. PAN comes later, from her own profile, once.
• "What ₹500 buys" comes from the organisation. We must never write that line ourselves — it is a claim about the world and only Aikyam can make it.

The original notes, kept as they were

Written before the reversal, and left unedited on purpose. The reasoning still holds except where marked Reversed above — and the reasoning is the part that transfers to a settings screen. Read "front door" below as the collective's public page rather than this one.

This is the front door, not a landing page

• It is the only page of this product a search engine will ever index, because everything else is either private or behind a sign-in. Somebody will arrive here having never heard of raseed, Aikyam or whoever forwarded the email. So the page names itself in the top bar, has a title and a description written for a search result, and gives real room to And what raseed is — a section that exists purely for the reader who arrived cold.
• It also has no "about us" behind it. The organisation's profile is private, so this page carries the entire burden of being believable. That is what Who you are giving to is: seven checkable facts, a named human and a phone number, rather than a paragraph about values.
• No "Priya sent you this" strip. An earlier draft had one. It was cut because most arrivals will not have been sent it by anybody, and a page that assumes a friend is confusing for everyone who has not got one.
• Nine pm, on a bus, on a phone. One column, four taps to pay, 52px targets, and the ask a screen and a half down — after the need and the proof, before the institutional detail.
• The name has about four seconds to work here, in the top bar and again in the footer line. That is the whole reason the name had to be a word an Indian reader already knows rather than an invented one — see naming.html.

The decisions on this page

• The headline is the need, not the organisation. Nobody on a bus cares what Aikyam is called until they care about the drum.
• The progress figure is dated and attributed. "Counted by Aikyam, last updated 8 August" — because it is published from our own record and cannot be read live from the private book. A number that might lag is honest if it says when it was true, and a lie if it does not.
• The fee is shown and not added. On UPI it is genuinely ₹0, which is a real reason to choose UPI and is a badge rather than a footnote. Switch to card and the line moves while the total does not.
• One checkbox, one email field, nothing else. No PAN, no name, no address. The email is not a form field so much as the delivery address for the receipt, and it says so.
• The account is described as three things that will happen to her, not as an account. The word "sign up" does not appear on the page.
• "What ₹500 buys" comes from the organisation. The page says so out loud. We must never write that line ourselves — it is a claim about the world and Aikyam is the only one who can make it.
• The refusal of foreign money is a short section with its own heading, not fine print under a tick. Somebody abroad who wanted to help deserves the reason and a way to do something else. The words "criminal" and "illegal" are not on the page; they belong in the staff handbook, not in front of a person trying to be generous.
• "The last thing this raised for" is the strongest trust device available and it costs nothing — the content is already public, because the update email travels.

The one thing here that needs a yes

• A permanent public web copy of each update email. The "Read what Aikyam sent about it" link, and the email's own "read this in a browser" link, both imply one. It is a small widening: from "the email travels between people" to "the email has an address anyone can find". It is also what makes this page believable to a cold stranger, so it is probably worth it — but it was not decided, and one purchase becoming permanently public is not the same as an email being forwarded.

Where this leaves Open Collective's look, and why

• Body type 17px, not 14px. Their 14px is right for an admin scanning a dashboard and wrong for one stranger reading one page once.
• Tap targets 52px, not 44px. 44 is a floor to clear, not a size to build at.
• One accent colour, spent on money and the action. The progress bar and the pay button are the same blue; nothing else on the page is coloured. The green badge is the single exception and it is carrying a fact, not decoration.
• Colours, radii, badges, inputs and buttons are tokens.css unchanged. Nothing new was invented, and no value was restated.

What was measured, in a browser, at 375px

• Nothing overflows sideways. Document width 375px, horizontal overflow 0px.
• Tap targets: amount buttons 56px, email field 52px, payment rows 65px and up, the pay button 56px × 293px. The floor everyone quotes is 44px; nothing here is near it.
• The amounts fall to a 2 × 2 grid of 141.5px, and the seven fact rows stack instead of holding a label column.
• The behaviour works. The pay button is dead until the citizenship box is ticked. Choosing ₹500 changes the button, the summary and the line about what it buys. Switching to card moves the fee from ₹0 to ₹12 and leaves the total at ₹500 — which is the one decision on this page most worth being able to see.
• Two defects were found this way and fixed: a stray badge on the UPI row, and a table on naming.html that pushed the page 111px sideways.

Known gaps

• No error states. Declined card, expired UPI collect request, a tab closed mid-payment, a foreign card refused at the gateway. All four happen; none is drawn.
• The "Other amount" state is not drawn — tapping it should reveal a field and it does not.
• Razorpay's own payment sheet is the last screen and belongs to Razorpay. It cannot be restyled and is not shown.
• No version for an organisation without 80G. The shaping document is explicit that such a page must say "this organisation cannot issue a tax receipt", and that variant is not drawn here.
• No "this has already been fully funded" state, and no closed state.
• Photographs: none. The page is text-only and would be stronger with one image of the class.
• Line length in characters was not counted. The column widths came from the type scale. Everything below was measured; this was not.