There are certain projects that enhance your portfolio, and then there are those that transform you as a person. SeedVault was unequivocally the latter.
At first glance, it appeared to be a conventional warehouse and operations management system: complex, multi-layered, and enterprise-scale. Yet beneath the architecture of UI components and data flows, an equally intricate and personal story was unfolding, a quieter narrative of a young designer striving to build not only a product but also a name, a studio, and a reputation. This was not merely a professional endeavor; it was an emotional undertaking. It was a story woven together by late-night revisions, countless spreadsheets, imposter syndrome, bursts of passion, and the occasional 2 a.m. breakthrough, Figma aglow on the screen, a half-eaten bowl of Maggi nearby, and a mind oscillating between exhaustion and clarity.
At the time, we were not what one would traditionally call a studio, and certainly not a registered "company." What we had was raw conviction. We believed perhaps naively, but earnestly that we could take on something of this magnitude and not just complete it, but create something meaningful. We aspired to design a system that was clean, scalable, and deeply usable, something that solved a real problem for a real business. But there was also something deeply personal at stake. For me, this project was a form of self-validation: a way to prove that walking away from a conventional career path and betting on design, on myself, and on my co-founder Ayush, had not been a mistake.
Even naming the product "SeedVault" required significant deliberation. What now feels logical and fitting was, at the time, the result of days spent navigating questions of symbolism versus clarity, cultural grounding versus universality. A name is never merely a title, it is a signal of intent. We needed a name that could scale with the product and communicate a sense of purpose and security. SeedVault captured that duality beautifully: it was both a metaphor and a functional descriptor, evoking growth, safekeeping, and structured potential.
What few people see when they interact with a polished UI is the immense cognitive labor involved in harmonizing logic with emotion. Every design decision demanded inner negotiation whether to prioritize data hierarchy or role-based access, whether to lead with usability or elegance. There was the constant back-and-forth with the client who often knew what they wanted intuitively but lacked the vocabulary to express it. As designers, we became translators interpreting abstract ambition into tangible workflows.
During the build, I made it a point to immerse myself in deeper UX theory reading, practicing, and applying concepts that extended beyond surface-level design. I didn't want to just move elements around; I wanted to understand how decisions shaped behavior, how language informed clarity, and how structure influenced trust. SeedVault became my first real testing ground not just as a designer, but as a systems thinker.
Over the course of the project, I came to understand that doing justice to a client is not about delivering on time alone, nor is it about writing the most immaculate documentation. It is, more profoundly, about honoring the trust placed in you. It is about holding space for their uncertainty and ambition and converting it into something that works. It is about resisting shortcuts, even when no one is watching. Above all, it is about care care for the product, the people, and the process.
When SeedVault finally went live last year, it didn't feel like we had merely completed a project it felt like we had crossed a threshold. It served as a mirror, reflecting both the evolution of our studio and my own transformation as a designer. It reminded me that even in moments of exhaustion, ambiguity, or doubt, there is something sacred about designing with intention.
SeedVault wasn't just a design project, it was a test of how thoughtfully we can solve real operational problems. From architecting complex user roles to designing intuitive flows for logistics and inventory management, every element was built with clarity and function at its core. It demanded both strategic thinking and precise execution. What emerged wasn't just a tool that looked good on screens, but a solution that held up in the everyday realities of the business. And that, ultimately, is the kind of work we strive to do, design that doesn't just perform in theory, but delivers in practice.
