design

Decline Creep: The Slow Slide You Never See Coming

How do you go bankrupt?

Well, gradually, then suddenly.

Thats my most favourite quote. By Ernest Hemingway in The Sun Also Rises

To me, his words aren’t just about money. They hold true for everything—careers, health, relationships, and even ambition. Because decline doesn’t happen in one dramatic collapse. It happens quietly, unnoticed, until the damage is done.

The slow erosion of standards isn’t dramatic. It doesn’t announce itself with alarms. It’s just small compromises made in moments of exhaustion—one deadline missed, one corner cut, one excuse justified. At first, they feel harmless. But over time, what was once non-negotiable becomes optional, and then, eventually, forgotten.

The quiet dulling of ambition doesn’t happen overnight. It starts with settling—choosing comfort over challenge, convenience over growth. The fire that once pushed you forward dims, not because you chose to give up, but because you stopped choosing to push. The hunger fades, replaced by a vague sense of inertia.

The steady lowering of expectations is the final piece. What you once aspired to feels distant, even unrealistic. You adjust—not because you believe less is enough, but because expecting more feels pointless. The extraordinary becomes unattainable, the average becomes acceptable, and before you know it, mediocrity becomes the norm.

Then, one day, you look around and wonder: How did things get here?

Not in a single moment. Not with a single decision. But with a thousand tiny ones.

Decline Creep is real. It thrives on neglect. It doesn’t need effort—it just needs you to stop paying attention. Many a time decline creep happens while you were busy with other things!

Progress, on the other hand, is different.

It doesn’t happen by accident. It requires intent. Effort. Discipline.

It’s never overnight. It’s never one sweeping transformation. It’s the small things, held steady. The right habits, practised consistently.

It starts with paying attention—continuously reflecting on what’s working and what isn’t. It requires taking corrective action before small missteps turn into major setbacks. A bit of optimism keeps you moving forward, but real progress demands a lot of focus.

Good things don’t come in sudden bursts. They come from the little things, done right, again and again.

Progress is built by design. Decline is powered by defaults.

Good things take time. So does decline.

The difference? One is a choice. The other is what happens when you stop choosing.

The Price of Form: Why Design and Care Matter

Walking through Brisbane, I saw something simple but powerful. Storefronts, still under construction, covered in bright art. Not just a splash of colour. Thoughtful, intentional design. It changed the whole street. Made it feel alive. Inviting.

“But isn’t that fake?”

If a store isn’t ready, shouldn’t it show its real state? The half-built shelves, the bare floors, the mess? Isn’t authenticity about showing things as they are?

Authenticity doesn’t mean exposing every flaw. A closed store with bright art isn’t hiding the truth. It’s offering something better to those who pass by. It’s saying, “Yes, we’re still getting ready, but here’s something beautiful in the meantime.”

It reminded me of a conversation in India. Someone told me, “Art comes after the family is fed.” A full stomach before a feast for the eyes. The argument was clear—art is an optional extra, a luxury.

But is it?

Hunger is real. Survival comes first. But beyond physical hunger, there is another kind—the hunger for beauty, and connection. A need that isn’t always felt, but exists. A need that, when ignored, leaves something empty in us.

Yes. There is a cost angle. Keeping things well-designed takes money. That’s true. But neglect costs more. The Broken window syndrome is real. When a place looks abandoned, it slides further. When it looks cared for, people respect it.

And that’s the point—intentionality. Art, design, and care shape how we experience a space. They change how we interact with it. How we treat it. A well-kept street, a thoughtfully designed workplace, a welcoming public space—these aren’t just about looking good. They change behaviour. They build connection. And remind us that we aren’t just individuals passing through.

We belong to the whole.

It reminded me of other examples from Mumbai.

Fixing a cracked pavement, adding colour to a dull wall, keeping a space inviting—these aren’t small things. Just as we change ourselves, we must care for our surroundings. Because they shape us too.

Yes, form has a price. But leaving it perhaps costs much more.

Good Design

The Netflix docu-series Abstract: The Art Of Design has been quite something. One of my favourites there is the one that features the Greek photographer Platon.

Perhaps it is my fledgling interest in photography (that has resolutely stayed fledgling). But, I would like to think that it is more than that. I think, it is at the core, the philosophy of design that that I deeply resonate with.

At the end of it, I asked myself ‘what is good design?’

Here are some sponataneous thoughts that emerged.

Good design goes beyond aesthetics. It is a seamless weave of form and functionality. To get to get to awesome design, you sure need imagination and a certain courage to go beyond immediate feedback.

But at the very core, design to me, is about how much you care.

Design manifests in subtle and obvious ways, when deep empathy and listening beyond what is said is the norm. Good design is often mistaken to be an outcome. It actually is a way of thought. Sure, it looks pretty and feels good. But if you look deeper than that, you would find that the designer ‘cared’!

I liked a couple of lines from the episode with Platon.

“Before a shoot I am not thinking of how can I get a good picture, but what can I learn from this person.”

“Taking a picture is very technical, but 99.9% of it is the connection that allows me to reach someone.  And through that connection, there’s just a chance you’re going to feel something too.”

Great design is about connecting with other people. That is something that I am inspired by and try to practice. Every single client interaction and consequent solution design is about care and empathy. At least, that’s my endeavour.

There is another widely held belief that good design is a function of awesome tools that you have. Sure, tools help. Heres my opinion: design that is purely a function of the tools at hand is a lazy mind at work.

Good design brings out the human in the other. It evokes an emotion. That’s a function of connections. Be it a photograph, a costume, car or a workshop, good design is a function of how much you really care.

That’s why good design is rare.

The Sea, The Mosque, and Lessons in Resilience

The Haji Ali Dargah in Mumbai, seen here as the waters recede. Soon, the restless sea will return—its waves crashing, its energy relentless. And yet, the mosque will remain, untouched in its resplendent silence and peace.

There’s a lesson in this.

To be humble in moments of glory.
To be calm when times are tough.
To ride the waves when they threaten.
To give in when no other choice remains.

Like the sea, life will ebb and surge. And like the Dargah, we find strength in stillness.

Beyond the Road: What the VW Camper Teaches About Staying Relevant

As a talented pair of hands whipped up a fresh cocktail, my eyes wandered to the Volkswagen Camper van, glowing under bright lights.

But this isn’t just a vehicle. It’s a symbol.

First introduced in 1950, it rolled off production lines in 2013, but not before proving its remarkable ability to evolve. It started as a people carrier, then became a parcel transporter, a tourist van, an ambulance, and much more. From the practical to the imaginative, it has done everything possible—and everything conceivable.

To age gracefully, like the VW Camper, means one thing: staying relevant.
And that requires daily reinvention. Self-disruption. A willingness to redraw the finish line—again and again.

It’s not easy. But it’s possible.

Just ask the VW Camper.

(at Pattaya, Thailand)

The Qutub Minar is tall. With a seeming rush to reach the sky. But when you stand at its base, you realise that the rush isn’t a compromise on aesthetic. Or design, for that matter.
Function needn’t be at the expense of aesthetic. A win is a win, but an elegant win stands tall.

Real tall.
#travel #qutubminar #qutub
#NewDelhi #Delhi #travelblogging #traveller #design #art #history #monument #Blogger ##aesthetic #function #victory (at Qutub Minar)

The stairway to the apartment that we stayed in Paris #airbnb
Paris is full of style and technology seems to be an afterthought. Obviously. But style remains.
A numbered lock on the main door that leads to a passage way that you need another numbered entry or an electronic key. And then you get to this stairway that sums up many years of steps taken to keep it this way.
#Traveldiaries #Travel #EU #France #Paris #Style #architecture #airbnb #design #designer #Traveller