With 37 authors contributing to ‘The Himalayan Arc’, the anthology straddles the realms of character-driven fiction and a broader examination of economics, politics and geographies in nonfiction. While the fictional stories in the book authentically capture the experiences of individuals from north-east India, Bhutan, Nepal and Myanmar amid shifting political and economic landscapes, the book doesn’t shy away from acknowledging the real-world impact on their lives.

In navigating numerous narratives, and, most importantly, reality, the book initially grapples with uniting its diverse stories. However, as it progresses, particularly beyond the initial chapters, it establishes a cohesive flow, delving into the explored themes over time.

The opening story, ‘A Himalayan Citizen’ by Sujeev Shakya, sets the stage by recounting his life in Kalimpong and the dynamic identity he experienced in the Himalayas. This narrative lays the groundwork for the cultural and geographical intricacies that remain prominent throughout the collection. Shakya’s exploration of geo-political conflicts between Himalayan nations finds resonance in later contributions, such as Manoj Joshi’s ‘Tibet, China and India’, which provides a concise overview of conflicts, including China’s annexation of Tibet, the Tibetan rebellion of 1959 and the Sino-Indian border conflict.

Similarly, Shakya’s reflections on the culinary delights that bind the people of the Himalayas, particularly his thoughts on the nostalgia and uniqueness of momo and aloo dum, take a historical perspective in Pushpesh Pant’s ‘Meals in the Mountains’. However, both Shakya and Pant encounter certain pacing and narrative issues in their respective chapters, though their intention to showcase Himalayan aspects is pivotal to the collection.

Shakya, in his attempt to bring together various Himalayan experiences, appears to cover too many topics simultaneously, creating a sense of jumping between them. On the other hand, Pant’s exploration of Himalayan cuisine, including his personal encounters with local produce, diverse Nepali cuisines, the influence of Buddha’s teachings on a healthy diet in the Himalayas and sampling Bhutanese cuisine, feels somewhat incomplete. The chapter could benefit from being more extensive, allowing Pant to share additional experiences and better connect his concluding reflections on the encroachment of local cuisine by modern fast food—especially given his esteemed status as a food critic and cookbook author.

Discussing modernity and urbanisation, both of Prajwal Parajuly’s stories, ‘Downhill in Darjeeling’ and ‘Sikkim: A Home Full of Hotels’, are filled with a sense of sadness and nostalgia as the author reflects on the transformation of his childhood memories in the face of political, economic and modern changes. In ‘Downhill in Darjeeling’, he observes the region’s declining economy, with the Gorkhaland rebellion taking centre stage, highlighting internal conflicts among Himalayan regions and the personal struggles of those affected by the economic downturn. Darjeeling’s challenges closely parallel those of Nepal, with young people leaving the region due to financial difficulties and aspirations for a brighter future. This illustrates that Himalayan people share cultural and regional experiences that often transcend geographical boundaries.

In sharp contrast is the tale of Sikkim, where Parajuly, while witnessing positive economic changes, also grapples with a sense of sorrow as he observes the proliferation of hotels and buildings that have replaced the natural beauty of the region.

Editor Namita Gokhale skillfully brings together the collection, guiding us through stories across the Himalayan belt, spanning Bhutan, Tibet, north-east India and Myanmar. However, it did seem like there were some struggles in terms of curating the chapter at first. We jumped from Shakya’s starting chapter to Amish Raj Mulmi’s brief historical account of the principles and success of the Gorkha army, ‘The Making of the Gorkha Army’, to Thomas Bell’s comprehensive take on the spy network on the Maoists during the civil war, and the resulting mistreatment of prisoners, and Sushma Joshi’s traumatising experience of her life-threatening injury during the earthquake.

Considering Nepal’s history, this curation makes sense, but, as evident in the later collection, it might have been even more fitting to include a realistic fiction piece in the early chapters. It felt like there were numerous Nepali experiences and stories to explore, and there was uncertainty about how to organise them effectively.

The collection gains coherence with John Elliot’s renowned interview of Bhutanese King Jigme Singye Wangchuk, marking the start of unravelling each region’s politics, economy, culture and humanity. Wangchuk, famous for coining the term ‘Gross National Happi ness’, sets the stage for the subsequent chapter, titled ‘Gangkar Punsum’. Here, Tsering Tashi’s brief and amusing account of the mountain Gangkar Punsum as the ‘world’s highest unclimbed mountain’ delves into the significance of spiritual and religious preservation in the region. It details the challenges of climbing the mountain, emphasising Bhutan’s commitment to protecting its heritage.

Some of the fictional stories in the collection delve into the senselessness of existence, evoking a feeling of despair within the portrayed meaningless cycle of life. Catherine Anderson’s ‘Little Lhasa’ stands out in this regard. Set against the sombre backdrop of McLeod Ganj, Anderson’s prose exudes a misty lifelessness, accentuated by her allusions to Greek mythologies such as the grieving Laertes and Penelope. The choice of McLeod Ganj as the story’s setting adds an otherworldly enchantment, akin to a traveller’s experience, mirroring the main character’s fleeting breathlessness as she admires the beauty of Lingkhor. Yet, she is inevitably pulled back into the abyss of lifelessness, drawing parallels to the ‘wheel of Samsara’ and the cyclical nature of existence.

Chetan Raj Shrestha’s ‘A Tranquil Tenure’ also delves into life's despondency through Mr Sanchan, who realises the significance of status when the respect he once commanded as the principal director of a project abruptly disappears with the end of his tenure.

Andrew Selth’s ‘Burma and the Kipling Mystique’ establishes the tone and pace for subsequent works by astutely examining the romanticised notion of Mandalay in Kipling's poem, a notion popularised globally. This analysis sets the stage for the following works that truly highlight the conflict and struggles in Myanmar. Salil Tripathi’s ‘Pacifist Prisoners and Militaristic Monks’ scrutinises the military dictatorship in Myanmar, focusing on their fight for democracy. The narrative places Ma Thida’s peaceful revolution against prison abuse at its core.

Thida, a human rights activist, who was imprisoned for six years during Myanmar’s military dictatorship, goes on to write about the violation of freedom of speech during the time, in a chapter titled, ‘A ‘fierce’ Fear’. Thida’s analysis is based on personal experience as someone actively involved in writing against the dictatorship at a time when censorship ran high risks for writers. Her perspective on how repression contributes to violence is succinctly presented, offering a broader examination of the importance of freedom of speech and opinion in a country.