We have closed submissions for Fragments Conf, Bangalore edition which will be held on 30 March. If you wish to submit a proposal for the conference, make a submission here.
Fragments is a conference on mobile engineering, including:
- State of platforms/OS
- Engineering approaches and paradigms
In 2019, Fragments is a traveling conference with editions in Ahmedabad, Bangalore, and potentially Hyderabad and Kochi (in the second half of 2019).
Topics for submission:
We seek proposals – for short and long talks, Birds of Feather (BOF) session topics, and workshops + tutorials – on the following topics:
- Deep dive technical talks on Flutter.
- AR Core: practical approaches and the business use cases.
- Reducing app size to below 10MB and how to cater for lower-end phones.
- PWA caching strategies.
- ML Kit (ML Kit | Google Developers).
- On device ML.
- Server-side ML.
- Progressive ML, where the fallback is on-device ML when the device goes offline.
- Functional programming for mobile.
- Coroutines in Kotlin.
- Mobile specific user research.
- Case studies from teams which have switched away from cross platform approaches.
- Use cases for which Native apps work versus use cases where it doesn’t make sense to build Native apps.
- Deep dive talks on performance.
- Optimising for lower-end hardware.
- Future of chatbots for conversations on mobile.
- Automating design to code.
If you have questions/queries, write to us on email@example.com
In a state of Randomness (MOCK PROPOSAL FOR PLATFORM TEAM UI/UX)
MOTHER died today. Or, maybe, yesterday; I can’t be sure. The telegram from the
Home says: YOUR MOTHER PASSED AWAY. FUNERAL TOMORROW. DEEP
SYMPATHY. Which leaves the matter doubtful; it could een yesterday.
The Home for Aged Persons is at Marengo, some fifty miles from Algiers. With
the two o’clock bus I should get there well before nightfall. Then I can spend the
night there, keeping the usual vigil beside the body, and be back here by tomorrow
evening. I have fixed up with my employer for two days’ leave; obviously, under the
circumstances, he couldn’t refuse. Still, I had an idea he looked annoyed, and I said,
without thinking: “Sorry, sir, but it’s not my fault, you know.”
Afterwards it struck me I needn’t have said that. I had no reason to excuse myself;
it was up to him to express his sympathy and so forth. Probably he will do so the day
after tomorrow, when he sees me in black. For the present, it’s almost as if Mother
weren’t really dead. The funeral will bring it home to me, put an official seal on it, so
This is an excerpt from Albert Camus’ “The Stranger”
A projector and a glass of water