Connect the calendar
We wire isbusy into the calendar system you already run — Google Workspace or Microsoft 365. Rooms map to signs once, on day one, and then nobody thinks about it again.
Meeting-room status
A 130-millimetre disc on the meeting-room glass. Green, red, amber — legible from the far end of the corridor, long before you are close enough to read anything. Driven by the room’s own calendar.

01 — The problem
A booking panel is a document. You have to be standing at the door to use it, and by then you have already opened it to find out that you should not have opened it.
A light is not a document. It is a signal. It answers the only question anyone walking down that corridor is actually asking — can I go in — at the distance where the answer still changes what you do.

Colour is the fastest thing the eye does. It arrives before shape, before text, before you have decided to look.


02 — The three states
The ring reads as a row of discrete points rather than a flat band. That is deliberate. It is what makes it legible at an angle, through glass, at the end of a corridor.



Nobody is in there. Walk in.
The calendar shows no booking and the room is unclaimed. Visible as green from roughly thirty metres of corridor.
Taken. Keep walking.
A meeting is live. The one state that has to work at a distance, because it is the one that stops someone opening the door.
Held, but empty.
Booked and nobody came, a break mid-session, or a device that has lost its connection and is telling you so rather than lying green.
03 — How it works
The whole point is that nobody has to remember to do anything. The sign is downstream of the booking you already made.
We wire isbusy into the calendar system you already run — Google Workspace or Microsoft 365. Rooms map to signs once, on day one, and then nobody thinks about it again.
A meeting starts and the ring goes red. It ends and the ring goes green. A booking nobody turned up for goes amber instead of lying to the corridor. No app to open, no panel to tap, no habit for anyone to form.
Every sign answers a plain HTTP request on your own network. A door sensor, a Slack command, a studio recording light, a booking system we have never heard of — if it can make a request, it can drive the light.
# set a room
curl "http://isbusy.local/api/state?state=busy"
# ask one
curl "http://isbusy.local/api/status"
{ "state": "busy", "rssi": -52, "uptime": 918442 }No cloud account in the path, no per-seat licence, no vendor tenant sitting between your calendar and your corridor. The sign is a device on your network that answers requests.

04 — In place
Two suction cups drop into keyhole slots in the back and lock as the sign slides down; gravity does the rest. No drilling, no adhesive on a partition you are renting, no facilities ticket. If you would rather it never came off, the back is flat enough for a ring of VHB.
Move a room, move a sign. Reorganise the floor on a Friday and the signage follows on the same afternoon.

05 — Made, not sourced
We design and build every sign ourselves, here in Türkiye. Nothing about it is a white-label box with a badge on it.

A black body that traps the light everywhere except the rim, and a clear cover over the ring. Nothing else is on show.

Every screw enters from behind and sits flush, so the face you look at is an unbroken disc. The back is flat enough to take a ring of VHB instead of the cups.
06 — In daylight






07 — Numbers
Size, light, network, power, mounting. Written for the person who has to hang it and the person who has to sign for it — including the parts that are not flattering.


08 — Get some
You buy the sign and you own the sign. There is no per-device fee, no seat count and nothing that stops working if you stop paying.
Single sign
₺5,900
per sign, including mounting hardware
10 rooms or more
Let’s talk
Calendar integration, per-floor rollout and anything you need it wired into.
Prices exclude VAT. Shipping within Türkiye is included.
Tell us how many rooms you have and which calendar you run. We will come back with a plan and a date, not a discovery call.