Vad Mehta

I came across a beautiful article by Sage Mehta in The New Yorker regarding her father, Vad Mehta,  a prolific American writer, who passed away January 9, 2021.

Ved Mehta's life and work defied conventional limitations. In The Sighted World, his daughter, Sage Mehta, reflects on growing up with a father who, despite being blind since childhood, navigated the world with precision and confidence. She describes how he structured his home environment so meticulously that he rarely needed assistance. His blindness, though a defining aspect of his life, was something the family seldom acknowledged. Outsiders often marveled at his ability to move without aid, yet his independence was the result of rigorous adaptation and an extraordinary memory.

Born in Lahore on March 21, 1934, Mehta lost his sight at age three due to cerebrospinal meningitis. Determined to receive an education, he moved to the U.S. in 1949 and attended the Arkansas School for the Blind. He later studied at Pomona College, Oxford University, and Harvard, where he developed his literary voice. 

His career took off when he joined The New Yorker in 1961, writing extensively on philosophy, politics, and culture. Over three decades, he crafted a distinctive narrative style that blended memoir with journalism, culminating in works like Fly and the Fly-Bottle (1962), which explored intellectual debates among British thinkers.

Mehta’s Continents of Exile series—his most ambitious work—spanned 12 volumes, chronicling his life and the experiences of his family across multiple continents. Beginning with Daddyji (1972), which detailed his father’s life, the series wove personal and historical narratives together, capturing themes of migration, displacement, and belonging. 

Despite his literary success, his personal relationships were complex. His dependence on young assistants, known as amanuenses, sometimes led to discomfort and allegations of inappropriate behavior. Sage Mehta acknowledges both his brilliance and the challenges of being close to him.

As he aged, Parkinson’s disease gradually diminished his physical and cognitive abilities. His once sharp mind became clouded, as if retreating into the past. When he passed away in 2021, his family scattered most of his ashes in places that had shaped him—Maine, Oxford, and India—but some remained in a wooden cube called the “Statesman” in his wife’s new home. 

His legacy endures in his literary works, which continue to offer insights into identity, exile, and the resilience of the human spirit. 

Sources:

Wikipedia

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2024/10/14/growing-up-with-the-writer-ved-mehta