Shon Mehta

  "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...

Once, in the ancient land of Jivavarta, there was a small village. For ten years, the Imperial Officer governing the village took half of every harvest and locked away anyone who refused.  Over time, the people had enough. One evening, they gathered their weapons and stormed the fort. The officer fled into the night. That night, the village celebrated till dawn. For the first time in years, they slept believing they were free. Two weeks later, another officer arrived from the capital city of Vanpore. He did not come alone; he brought fifty men in heavy armor. To feed them, he immediately demanded two-thirds of the harvest. Soon, a gallows was raised in the market square. "But I thought we had won," whispered one of the younger villagers, staring at the fresh timber of the gallows. An old elder nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the noose. "We took revenge," the elder replied. “But We mistook it for change.  Anger rarely lacks a target. It usually lacks a solution....

The Jivavarta Lexicon A Lexicon of Philosophy, Literature, and Human Behaviour The Jivavarta Lexicon is a curated collection of literary, philosophical, and psychological concepts originating from the Jivavarta Universe. Filter or search below to explore recurring patterns in human behaviour through the literature of Jivavarta. All Concepts / Types Philosophical concepts Psychological concepts Literary concepts Proper Nouns A Tale of a Fairytale Literary-philosophical concept Definition The act of outliving a fantasy to build a reality. Origin Stories of Jivavarta: A Tale of a Fairytale Biting Dog Literary concept Definition That which is provoked, then blamed. Origin Microfables of Jivavarta: Biting Dog Crossroads of Vakshi Noun ·...

Zukula woke up and yawned silently. As he opened his eyes, he saw his wife, Jalaja, preparing for his trip to the Vanpore market. She had already taken out the morning catch of fresh fish from the small fish pond in front of their hut. "Get up," said Jalaja. "You are already late for the weekend market." Zukula got up unwillingly. He hated going to Vanpore, but it was necessary. Vanpore had the biggest weekend market around, and his fish fetched a much better price there than in his tribal settlement. He hurriedly ate his breakfast, changed into his best clothes, and started towards Vanpore with his basket of fish. When Zukula reached the market, it was already afternoon, and the other sellers from his settlement were preparing to leave. "You are late, Zukula," said a fellow Vidari. "Now, you will not get a good price for your fish. I have already sold mine. The highborn who bought my fish was foul-mouthed, but he gave me a good price." "All...

This is the tale of an ancient fright, Before the dawn gave birth to the light. Jivavarta was a broken place, Where men woke only to join the chase. They woke with hunger and slept with fear, With no mercy or comfort near. To live was violence, to breathe was dread, The living envied even the dead. The rivers did not judge their creed, The sky showed neither wrath nor heed. Their hearts beat on as before their deed, Survival mattered more than guilt could breed. The god of gods, Sarvabhu, looked down, With bored indifference and without a frown, Since all eternity, this was a bore, A repetitive task, and nothing more. He had seen the deaths of a million stars, The drifting dust of distant wars, Where men killed men and had them flayed, Ages after ages, they had never strayed. Then came that fateful Rongcha morning, With an act that had no warning. A man climbed up the mountain to atone, He did not tremble, he did not groan. He brought no hope and he brought no greed, Just the two compa...