Shon Mehta

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who rejoice in their ability to employ others as servants,   And those who are saddened by how cheaply human labour is valued.  I belong to a third kind. I just want to go to sleep. — Shon Mehta, The Uncharted Mind    Shon Mehta  is an author, philosopher, and systems thinker whose Trilogy of the Mind explores human experience through Rough Hewn, a collection of reflective essays on identity and inner struggle; The Uncharted Mind, a collection of her inner thoughts, philosophical insights, and quotes from her novels that challenge biases and sharpen perception; and Jivavarta (The Universe), a fictional universe exploring power, war, religion, survival, and moral choice. Together, the trilogy moves from validation to calibration to simulation—helping readers understand themselves, question reality, and test their beliefs through complex worlds. 

Introduction We like to believe that our lives are a result of our choices. We would like to say I choose what to do, I choose where to work, I choose whom to trust, I choose what to do next, and so on. However, no one makes choices in a vacuum. Before we are old enough to choose, much of our world has already been chosen for us. We are born into a family, a culture, a country, and a particular moment in history. We inherit rules we did not make, opportunities we did not create, and constraints and structures we did not choose. Even our idea of what is possible for us is shaped by the world around us. Therefore, freedom of choice cannot mean choosing without constraints. One needs to recognize the circumstances that shape our world, and make a choice with that in mind. This is where the Jivavarta Framework begins. Survive, Thrive, Strive Our circumstances might leave us with very little room to act. We protect what we have, adapt to our surrounding, and try to get through the situation...

A long time ago, there was a village near Vanpore , the capital of Yashantika. Like in any other village in Yashantika, all land in the village was owned by the Grahvars, the class of highborn landlords. It had been so for generations. Not only did the Grahvars own the land, they also owned the Cetas who worked on the land. The Cetas worked on the farms, cleaned the houses, and did whatever they were told to do. The Cetas rose early and worked till midnight. They did so every day of their lives, and when they could no longer work they were simply thrown off the land. For the Grahvars, this was not cruelty. They believed that Sarvabhu, the God of Gods, had arranged the world this way -- the Grahvars were born to rule while the Cetas were born to serve -- and what had been decided by God could not be questioned by men. Then came the Unification of Jivavarta, and with it a revolution. The old religion of Tapasi was replaced by the new faith of Ajabuhi. This new faith declared that the Cet...

As a child, when people declared pride in their gender, ethnicity, or country, you felt confused. You never understood the pride of being born into something. What have you done to deserve your gender? Your ethnicity? Your country? You did not make them. They arrived before you did, as naturally as the weather. To be proud of them would be like being proud that it rained. Pride, if it must exist, belongs elsewhere. Pride belongs to the carpenter who shapes a table from stubborn timber, to the farmer or gardener who grows flowers from dry earth, or to those who create something with their own hands against the indifference of time. Yet you find yourself defending what you never claimed to have achieved. This is the strange part. You do not defend these things because they make you feel greater than others. You defend them because they are part of what makes you who you are. They are not medals pinned to your chest; they are circumstances from which your life was made: your ethnicity, yo...

A long time ago, in the Jivavarta mainland, a man escaped the ravages of an ongoing war and settled with his family deep inside a forest. Although he escaped humans, he could not escape the birds. When he grew his first crop, birds descended on his fields and started eating his crop. Enraged to his limits, he cursed at them, he shooed them away -- but the birds did not listen. They ate his entire crop. He sowed the crop again, but this time he was ready. As soon as a first bird descended, he killed it. It felt nice, he had finally done something. Birds did not stop coming, but he made a habit of killing a bird whenever he saw one eating his crop. After a few years, he killed them even when they were not eating his crop. He killed them merely because he had now become used to killing them. Every time he killed a bird, he buried its body in a corner of his field and put a gravestone alongside. On the gravestone he carved a little picture of him strangling the bird, a symbol of his victor...

Once there was a man. He did everything right. He ate right. He walked right. He talked right. He wore the right clothes. But he wore his shoes wrong. He wore the right shoe on his left foot, and the left shoe on his right foot. People feared he would fall, but he never did. They asked, "Why do you wear your shoes that way?" He never answered. He only smiled. Years passed, and he was no more. People forgot how kindly he spoke. They forgot how honestly he lived. They forgot how helpful he was. But they always remembered that he wore his shoes wrong. —— Reflection: What "wrong shoes" are you wearing that make others uncomfortable simply because they challenge convention? —— Author’s Note — The Origin of the Poem: Originally drafted in 2018, this poem was last edited in a Google Keep note on January 2, 2019. It sat there for seven years, waiting for its ending. Now, it is finally complete. —- The Man Who Wore His Shoes Wrong Collection: The Uncharted Mind Author: Shon ...

  "Five Villains. Five Philosophies. One Truth: Survival writes the story." In Jivavarta, villainy is shaped not only by perspective but also by conviction taken too far. In that space between belief and consequence,  The Timingila  forces readers to confront an unsettling possibility: under the right circumstances, anyone could become the hero of their own darkness. In Jivavarta, there is no clear good and no pure evil. There are only people moving through their own truths, defending themselves against an unjust world, each trying, in their own way, to justify their right to exist. And perhaps that is all any of us ever does. "Maybe I am villain in your story, but I am hero in mine."  — Tasvak,  The Timingila.  The Whale-Eater. Predator of Predators. Stories Of Jivavarta  By Shon Mehta ——— Jivavarta is a narrative-based systems philosophy: a fictional civilization and analytical framework developed by Shon Mehta that integrates stories, axioms, lexi...