Design page, not the product. Priya, Devi, Rahitha, Aikyam, Chalanam Foundation, Puzha Reading Room and Peruvanam Music House are invented for this design. No real person or organisation is described here, and no registration or tax status shown is anybody's actual status. Nothing on this page is wired up.
Superseded as a page. Kept as the specification for an update
This was drawn as a page of ours, behind her sign-in, because the organisation was going to be
private. There is no app of ours now. Open Collective does her account, her history, her
receipts and her updates, and the collective is public.
The honest answer to "does this still need building?" is no — and it is a close call.
Nearly all of this composition can be authored inside an Open Collective update: the
photograph, the shop's bill as an expense with the paper attached, who paid what, and the story.
What cannot survive the translation is the word your. An update is the same text for
everybody, so the sentence this whole page was built around —
"your ₹500 was part of the ₹23,900" — has nowhere left to live.
Buying that word back means one page of ours, which means an app of ours, which is exactly what
was just deleted for costing eleven extra things to build. So: not for launch. If donors
turn out not to click, that sentence is the first thing to reconsider — and by then it is one
page, not an app. The shaping document carries that as a named test rather than a hope.
Nothing inside the mockup below has been edited. Sections 2, 3 and 4 are the update
template — that is the part to build against. Sections 1, 6 and 7 are now Open Collective's own
pages. Section 5 is wrong and is marked below.
Aikyam · Fort Kochi
The drums arrived on Tuesday.
You helped buy them.
Six chenda in the rented room at Amaravathi, photographed by Devi on 9 September.
Your ₹500 was part of the ₹23,900 that twelve
people gave, which bought six chenda from Peruvanam Music House on
4 September.
The shop's bill
The paper Aikyam got from the shop, and what Devi typed off it.
Recorded by Devi at Aikyam on 6 September. Two people at Aikyam approved this before the
shop was paid. Aikyam paid the shop from its own bank account — the money never passed through us.
Who paid the ₹38,200
Gifts did not cover the whole bill. Aikyam put in the rest.
₹23,900 from twelve gifts, one of them yours
₹14,300 from Aikyam's own funds
The gifts that paid for it
Every gift that went to the drums, yours first.
12 AugYour gift₹500
The other eleven gifts
2 AugA donor₹5,000
4 AugA donor₹2,500
8 AugA donor₹1,000
11 AugA donor₹2,000
14 AugA donor₹400
17 AugA donor₹5,000
19 AugA donor₹1,500
21 AugA donor₹2,500
24 AugA donor₹500
28 AugA donor₹1,000
30 AugA donor₹2,000
Nobody's name is shown here — not to strangers, and not to the other people who gave.
Want to show somebody? Forward the email we sent you — the one about the drums.
It opens for anyone, it explains itself from scratch, and there is nothing in it about you or
what you gave. This page is the opposite: it is yours, it is behind your sign-in, and a link to
it is a locked door to everyone else.
Puzha Reading Room is not registered under 80G, so it cannot issue a tax certificate for this gift. That is the organisation's registration, not something you can add.
It needs your PAN — ten characters, once. We keep it, and every certificate after this one
writes itself. Without it Aikyam cannot put you on the file it hands the tax department by
31 May, and the certificate cannot be issued at all.
Two more things need money right now — one at Aikyam and one at Chalanam
Foundation. Nobody has asked you for anything since March.
What survives as an update, section by section
1. The outcome — headline, photograph, one sentence → the update's
opening. Survives, except the sentence loses "your". Write it as
"Twelve people gave ₹23,900 of it" and let her find her own line on her contributions
page. Weaker, and true.
2. The shop's bill → an expense with the paper attached. This is the
part Open Collective is genuinely best at, and it is already public. The design instruction
that transfers: the bill is a document, not a row — shop name, bill number, line items, the
photograph, and who typed it in.
3. Who paid the ₹38,200 → written into the update by hand. The split
bar does not exist upstream. The sentence does: "twelve people gave ₹23,900; Aikyam paid
the remaining ₹14,300 from its own funds." Keep the admission — hiding the ₹14,300 would
have been the first lie, and that is unchanged.
4. The gifts that paid for it → the public contributor list. With one
difference that is now a decision rather than a design: this page showed amounts and never
names. A public collective shows names by default. Her name should not be published unless
she chooses it, asked once at the moment she gives.
5. The line about forwarding → wrong now, in the best way. It said
this page is a locked door and only the email travels. The public collective means the page
itself travels. That was the largest limitation in the old model and it is gone.
6. Everything you have given → Open Collective's own contributions
page. Free, verified running, and it already spans several organisations. The three
statuses drawn here are the one thing worth carrying over as words: "Not spent yet"
beats "pending", and the plain line about an organisation without 80G is still the right
sentence.
7. The PAN nudge → her own profile. PAN goes in the structured part
of her address, which means it will arrive labelled as an address line. It needs its own label,
its own sentence saying why it is being asked, and a check of the format. A field labelled
wrongly collects wrong data — lower case, spaces, the wrong line.
What is genuinely lost, said plainly
The arithmetic sentence. "Your ₹500 was part of the ₹23,900 that bought six
chenda on 4 September." Nothing in Open Collective composes a sentence about one person's
gift, and nothing should be built to, for now.
The email that fires because something happened. This page assumed a system
watching Devi's record. An update is a piece of writing a busy person has to sit down and
produce. The trigger stopped being a mechanism and became a habit, and that is the
biggest risk left in the build.
The split bar and the "yours first" ordering. Both were compositions only a
page of ours could make.
The original notes, kept as they were
Written before the reversal and left unedited. The reasoning still holds; only the surface it
was written for has gone. "Why there is no share button here" is the section to read as history —
its premise was a private organisation.
What this page is for
It is the six-star moment in the shaping document, and the whole argument for eight weeks
rather than three. Priya taps a link in an email, lands here already signed in, and meets one
thing: what her ₹500 became, with the shop's paper above the gifts that paid for it.
The decisions on this page
The outcome comes before the money. A headline, a photograph and one
sentence before a single number is broken down. She came for the drums, not for a statement.
The bill is a document, not a row in a table. Shop name, bill number, line
items, the photograph of the paper, and who typed it in. A number without its paper is a claim;
with the paper it is evidence.
The gifts did not cover the bill, and the page says so. ₹23,900 of ₹38,200.
Hiding the ₹14,300 Aikyam put in would have been easy and would have been the first lie.
Amounts are shown, names never are — not even between people who gave to
the same thing. Nobody decided that before now; it is decided here.
"Not spent yet" is a status she can read. Not pending, not processing. A
donor who funds something slow is told nothing has happened, which is the truth.
PAN is offered as a certificate she can have, not a form she must fill. The
sentence about 31 May is the plain warning the shaping document asked for.
Why there is no share button here
This page cannot be forwarded and should not pretend it can. It sits behind
Priya's sign-in, and the organisation behind it is private, so a link she pastes into WhatsApp
is a sign-in wall to everybody else.
The email is the only thing in this product that survives a forward, because
it carries its own copy of the story. So the forwarding job moved there entirely —
email-the-drums-arrived.html — and this page got
simpler for it.
This page holds everything personal; the email holds none of it. Her amount,
her three organisations, her receipts and her PAN live here, behind sign-in. That split is the
rule, not a preference: see the email's own notes.
Where this leaves Open Collective's look, and why
Body type is 17px, not 14px. Open Collective's 14px is right for an admin
scanning a dashboard all day and wrong for one person reading one thing once, on a phone.
Buttons a donor taps are 52px tall, not 44px. 44 is the floor, not a target,
and this is a phone page.
Colour is spent on exactly one thing: her line, her amount, her share of the
bar. Everything else is grey. Open Collective's blue is used as the accent it already is.
Every colour, radius, badge and button style otherwise comes from tokens.css
unchanged. Nothing new was invented.
Known gaps
The photograph and the bill thumbnail are placeholders drawn in code. No real image is embedded.
No state for "she has given to one thing only" — the sections that compare across
organisations would need rewriting for a first-time donor.
No state for "Aikyam has nothing to raise for right now", which makes the share block
homeless. It should fall back to Aikyam's standing page; that page is not drawn.
The 80G certificate itself, the receipt PDF, and the PAN form are not drawn.
No email is drawn — and the email is half of this moment.
There is no JavaScript on this page at all, and nothing on it needs any. There was, briefly:
a copy-link script left behind when the share block was cut, throwing on every load. It was
found by opening the page rather than by reading it.
Line length in characters was not counted. Measured at 375px in a browser,
nothing overflows sideways (0px) — but that is geometry, not typography.