My First iPod – Intentionality with Design

the genius imprint of Apple design

I still remember my first iPod.
I received it as a gift from someone named Reliance, a friend of my dad’s who we hosted several times when I was growing up. In gratitude to my parents, he gifted me a second-generation iPod.

1,000 songs in my pocket

I was elated. It truly felt like I had 1,000 songs in my pocket. I remember asking how to add my own music. He smiled and said, “You’ll figure it out.” And I did—alongside my brother.

We took turns using it. We each took it to school. I was the cool kid with an iPod—something uncommon in a school like mine. But the beautiful thing about my school—a well funded Public School—was its diversity. It had students from all over the country, from all walks of life. It was well integrated. Though we weren’t wealthy, I never felt deprived. I had friends who it was obvious they had more than others. It showed in how they vacationed as a family in Europe and the States during the summers. They returned with stories, gifts, and accents. I told myself, even at that age, that one day, I’d create those kinds of experiences for myself.

But I digress.

The reason this memory came rushing back—and why you are reading this piece I was instantly inspired to write—is because I recently saw a cover of Unchained Melody by Life in 3D (you should check them out, they’re pretty great.) The original song is by The Righteous Brothers. The original was a leading song on my first iPod that played more than just music, it marked my first real experience with intentional design. I never forgot it, and Apple made sure of that.

Unboxing moments are still precious to me. And I realise now that Apple, perhaps subconsciously and unknowingly, planted that in me.

I remember the box vividly—grey and compact. I tore off the plastic wrap, opened the layers, and there it was: small, sleek, centred, and quietly perfect. I stared at it, and it stared back. I took out the earphones, powered it on, and just like that, my musical escapades began.

Steve Jobs was famously obsessed with design. That obsession became Apple’s DNA—and in many ways, became mine too.

When I started building Dukka, that same obsession guided me. I cared deeply about the experience. I wanted every interaction—whether digital or physical—to feel thoughtful. Purposeful. Beautiful. Just like my first iPod.

Till today, Apple remains my benchmark for design—software, hardware, payments, and everything in between.
I’m fascinated by how they take complex systems and reduce them into something that feels stupid simple.

I remember spending days, even weeks, obsessing over tiny decisions.
When we were creating our logo, I had two references in mind: Apple, of course. And Square.

Our designer shared 20–24 colour palettes. I narrowed it down to four to get the final one.
He submitted 12 logo options. None landed. He tried again. Still nothing. So I decided to bring in a jury—friends, family, early investors. They indulged me. They saw how important this was. I didn’t want to be one of those companies that rebrands midway. I wanted something strong. Something that could stand the test of time.

Eventually, I spoke to a close friend who used to work at Square. She gave me a suggestion that changed everything:
“If the D could feel a little more Square, it might not be a bad thing—could even help if Square ever came knocking for acquisition talks.”

That feedback sealed it.
Our designer made the change, and what we got is the Dukka logo you see today—elegant, iconic, and quietly confident.

I’m biased, yes. But also honest. It’s a great logo.

And that same intentionality didn’t stop at branding. It runs through everything we build.

From our app interface to our payment terminals, we obsess over how people feel when they first open a Dukka box, power on a terminal, or launch the app. The experience has to feel seamless, delightful, and smart—no tutorials needed, no guesswork. Just intuitive, confident simplicity.

We think about every curve of our hardware. The weight. The way it fits in your palm. The way it lights up. The way it boots. The feeling it gives a business owner who’s about to make their first sale.

Because we know that design isn’t just how something looks.
It’s how it works. It’s how it feels.

That mindset—the Apple mindset—is what we carry at Dukka.
It’s what I carry with me every single day as we build.

Today, I continue to push my team at Dukka to think like that.
To focus on the customer. To obsess over the details.
To deliver excellence—not just in code, or hardware, or design, but in everything.

Operational excellence isn’t a nice-to-have. It’s the standard.
My competition isn’t my peers. My competition is me—10 years from now.

And I apply that principle in everything I build.