©  2017 Tashan Mehta

July 12, 2015

Asiatic Library with its town hall flight of steps, Cinderella-like from afar and chipped and battered up-close, a promised haven of untouched library treasures locked deep in unreachable and (more importantly) undecipherable metal chests, is an exercise in shedding. A...

February 2, 2015

We’ve had three discussions now on marriage. I am unsure if this is because it is all our limited Hindi will allow or if he is just please to have found a common soul. I am “travelling the world”, in his words, unmarried and not looking to marry. He’s been scouring the...

February 2, 2015

The desert is absolute silence, building in your ears like static. When the wind picks up, it howls, a personal song. The village we go to is meant to be a large one, with concrete houses. We wander around one such house, guilty at the intrusion. What must they think o...

January 5, 2015

[Note: I’ve been given permission to write this blog post on the understanding that I will name it the above title. I have spent almost all of my life knowing this song, and assuming that ‘fly’ in the title referred, literally, to a ‘beautiful fly’ because women were s...

July 6, 2014

It is 7am in the morning here, and the view outside the large bay windows is a deep and steady grey. A blue oyster house sits perched at the end of the boardwalk, the sea still. Now I cannot see the mountains, but I know they are there – blue and misty, and on particul...

June 30, 2014

She runs a 24-hour flower shop in Montreal. It is 2am and the light from her shop creates a luminous section of pavement. We passed it earlier tonight and Nik poked his head in to see if she was there. I saw bent shoulders and a broom. That’s her daughter, he said. She...

June 15, 2014

I have been trying to come up with a phrase for Canada—words that convey its flavour (derivative as that might be for a country so vast). But each trip I take has a flavour to it, a certain distinctive tanginess to the cities and the people and Canada had been escaping...

May 29, 2014

There is something about Canada that I cannot quite put my finger on. I see it flashing past me through the window of a car, slim branches sprouting tender leaves, as if almost afraid of the sky they will blossom into. The sky opens up ahead of me and my eyes prick—the...

October 18, 2013

“Okay,” I say. “Now a hard question. Super hard.” They giggle at the made-up word. “How has”—I take my time enunciating each word—“learning English changed your thoughts or ideas about Tibet or the Tibetan language?”

They make me write it down. I underline each complex...

October 16, 2013

I go to the beginners’ room at conversation class today. There are so many people there that I have to pick my way across—stepping on a monk’s knee on the way—to a group of four. They welcome me eagerly. “How old are you, teacher?” asks one. I say twenty-two. He shakes...

Please reload

Recent Posts

July 12, 2015

February 2, 2015

February 2, 2015

June 30, 2014

June 15, 2014

May 29, 2014

October 18, 2013

October 16, 2013

Please reload

Archive
Please reload

Follow
  • Black Twitter Icon
  • Black Instagram Icon