Shon Mehta

  As the warm afternoon breeze blew in, it brought the fragrance of wildflowers with it. Nahuja Duja took a deep breath, and smiled. "Smells just like Lasati ," he told himself. He stared at his image in the mirror, trying to remember how he looked in his young age. He was not a bad-looking man in his youth, but too much of indulgence had made him lose whatever beauty he had. His fair skin was now filled with dark spots, his head was balding in patches, and his flat stomach had given way to a paunch. However, he was oblivious to things that tended to lower his self-esteem. In his mind, he was still the handsome legend who made women swoon, and men fall in line. Looking at the mirror, he turned slightly to the left, then slightly to the right, and felt happy that he could hide his bald patches so perfectly. "The warlords are here, Chief Father ," his guard announced. "Send them in," Nahuja Duja spoke in his deep baritone, which he had acquired after consid...

  When Lokya woke up, it was past midnight. He was at the back of a horsecart, dumped over the luggage. Beside him, the priest was sleeping on his seat. A lantern hung in the front of the cart, and its dim light gave the priest a demonish appearance. Lokya realized that he had been abducted. "Stop the cart!" Lokya screamed. "Help, I want to go back." The priest woke up with a start. He looked at Lokya, and slapped him hard on his head. "Shut up," he shouted. "Shut up now, not a word!" "Where are you taking me?" asked Lokya, hitting back. "Take me back to my home." "You fool," chuckled the priest. "Your parents have sold you to me. I am your master now, and you are my slave." "Why did they sell me?" Lokya started crying. "Because they did not want you." The priest was enjoying this. "They sold you for just one silver karshika ." "Still I want to go back home," Lokya s...

  War is a smell – a smell of filth, a smell of sweat, a smell of flesh, a smell of blood, a smell of death; war is a stench that never goes away. Prince Abhik stepped out of the water after a brief swim, and sat on one of the stones surrounding the lake. He could still smell the sweat and the blood and now that he was clean, he craved for more. He dived back into the dark green water. Deep under, he closed his eyes and held his breath, savouring the stark silence and trying to remember the rush he felt in the battlefield. When he resurfaced and opened his eyes, his bodyguard was waiting for him. Abhik tried to recall the bodyguard’s name. “Always remember the names of your bodyguards,”  his father used to chastise him, “they may be willing to save your life, but make sure that they are also willing to give theirs while doing so.” But no matter how hard he tried, Prince Abhik could never remember their names – with their feral attire and face tattoos, they all looked the same ...

  “The Uncharted Mind” is a collection of Shon Mehta's inner thoughts. It also includes philosophical quotes from her novels. Our mind is our own cozy shelter, where we can have our private conversations, find solace, and be at peace.   ― Shon Mehta, The Uncharted Mind The Uncharted Mind: Writing The Uncharted Mind: Forlorn The Uncharted Mind: Hurt The Uncharted Mind: Bringing the words home The Uncharted Mind: The Man Who Wore His Shoes Wrong The Uncharted Mind: Mob Mentality The Uncharted Mind: Fool's Gold The Uncharted Mind: Life The Uncharted Mind: Religious Scriptures The Uncharted Mind: Travel The Uncharted Mind: Clothing The Uncharted Mind: Old Photograph The Uncharted Mind: Idiocracy The Uncharted Mind: Nepotism The Uncharted Mind: Age is not just a number The Uncharted Mind: The Time Has Come The Uncharted Mind: Kakistocracy The Uncharted Mind: It Never Goes Away The Uncharted Mind: The Dare The Uncharted Mind: Bamboos The Uncharted Mind: Rising Against Odds The ...