Talk, don’t tap.
A sentence in your language beats a form, every time. Pia hears the request in the language it arrived in — Hindi, English, Hinglish, voice, photo. The screen is a specialization. The conversation is the baseline.
The Eleven · what Pia decides by
Principles are tiebreakers.
When two features are equally justified, when two designs are equally clean — the principles decide. These are the six that show up in front of you. Five more steer what happens behind the curtain.
Every role is a first-class user.
The 19-year-old worker behind the counter gets the same surface as the owner. No reduced-feature tier for staff, no “manager mode” that hides the good buttons. Each role gets a tool pack, copy calibrated to their reading speed, and the same Pia.
Built for the ₹10,000 phone.
The design target is a low-end Android on patchy 4G in a Tier-3 town. It opens in under two seconds. Nothing you tap waits on a slow server. If it doesn’t run there, it doesn’t ship — modernity is not an excuse to leave half of India behind.
Never surprise the wallet.
No surprise charges, no per-action fees sneaking into the bill. Pricing is transparent and stays where it was — the only motion ever permitted is downward.
Do the boring correct thing.
GST rounding to the right paisa. HSN tax codes. Batch-wise expiry. Books that always balance. Actions that are safe to repeat. A record on every action. The unsexy plumbing your CA will quietly thank us for, because we didn’t cut a single corner.
Local is the product.
Hindi is a peer, not a translation. ₹ is the currency. DD-MM-YYYY is the date. The ₹2,500 Epson clone in the shop’s back room prints clean. Pia belongs to Tier-2 India, not San Francisco.
We add a principle only after we’ve argued for it twice and it’s held both times. We delete one only after we’ve violated it twice and been glad we did. Everything else — every feature, every screen, every line of copy — is downstream of these.