“મારે એવી વેબસાઈટ જોઈએ છે કે આખા રાજકોટમાં કોઈએ ના બનાવી હોય.”

“I want a website nobody in all of Rajkot has built.”

That was the brief from Radheshyam Rollers, a family factory in Rajkot that makes taper rollers¹ for the bearing industry. It had to be unique, something he would enjoy showing people. Then he added the line every client saves for last:

Unique usually gets bought: 3D models, a photo shoot, an illustrator. The budget had room for none of that.

So I set one rule: use the free tools that already exist, and put the effort into the idea. The motion runs on GSAP, the smooth scrolling on Lenis and the globe on cobe.² There isn't a single photo on the home page. The only image is the logo, and everything else is drawn in code.

That left the real question: what should a roller company look like?

I started with the business, not with other websites. A buyer sends a drawing or a sample, and the factory works to it, down to the micron. In this industry, drawings are the common language.

So the website speaks it too. The first thing you see isn't a photo of a factory. It's a sheet from an engineering drawing, with a title block, a revision number and real dimensions.

The same idea runs through every page: thin lines, centre marks and small monospaced labels, like the notes on a drawing. On the products page, each type of roller draws itself on screen.

The colours came from the same place. Deep navy is the ink of a drawing. Orange is steel in heat treatment, the one stage where the metal itself glows.

Orange is used sparingly: one word in a headline, a button, an arrow. On the home page, only the contact section goes fully orange, so the page warms up right when it asks you to get in touch.

For type, Bricolage Grotesque gives the headlines weight, and Onest keeps everything else easy to read. One tap switches the whole site to Gujarati, set in Anek Gujarati, because the people he'd show it to first are right there in Rajkot.

Here is the whole system on one sheet.

There was one thing I couldn't redesign. The company already had a logo, a red and black seal with a serif name, and it came from a different world than a blueprint.

The brief's real test was still waiting: would he enjoy showing it to people? That's where the animation comes in, and I wanted every piece of it to come from the factory.

It begins before the page does. The loading screen is a dial gauge, one of the instruments the factory measures with, counting up to 100%.

Further down, the quality section has a bearing that turns as you scroll, because the whole company exists to keep things turning.

The smallest detail is one you feel before you notice it. Move your cursor near a button and it leans toward you like a magnet, with its label moving a little further than the button itself.

These rollers end up in bearings that travel far beyond Gujarat, so the export story is a globe, with lines running out from Rajkot. For a factory in Padvala, that picture says more than a paragraph could.

His review was short:

“મજા આવી ગઈ. તમારું કામ બહુ જ ગમ્યું.”

“I loved it. I really liked your work.”

Maja was exactly what he had asked for on the first day. And none of it needed more money. The idea was already inside the factory, in its drawings, its furnace and its gauges.

The budget was small. The idea didn't have to be.