Behind: The Way We Are – Dark Tales From the Himalayas


After two years of writing and editing these stories. I have finally found the courage to publish it on Kindle. These stories are precious as they are my babies whom I have given birth and nurtured them until they were ready to cross the threshold. Countless cups of teas and countless hours of contemplation, character building, shaping and reshaping the stories have gone into the making of The Way We Are and I cannot be more proud to see the end result. I cannot be more happier to share the book with you all. I do earnestly hope that it receives the love and support it deserves.


The Way We Are

Consists of twelve short stories, most of it based in Kurseong or Darjeeling. Some are based in Delhi, Kathmandu and Gangtok. The stories have a dark element coursing through it in a familiar pattern but by dark I do not mean just ghosts and spirits. It is also an exploration of our dark sides that we hide so well under a pleasant countenance; it is about the choices we make and the consequences we bear; it is about strange encounters that fall in the peripheral zone between reality and imagination. It is also about epic romances that we have aspired for sometime in our lives. The title suggest that we are the people we are with all of our flaws and our graces, with all of our beliefs and our convictions, with all of our darkness and light.


Self published

After a long and arduous search for a traditional publishing house, I decided to self publish The Way We Are on Kindle. The traditional publishing world is a cold and an uncompassionate world and if you are a short story writer trying to get your work published, no literary agents are willing to risk their business on you. And without a literary agent you are left on your own knocking at the publishers’ doors with your manuscript tucked under your arm. Most likely, the doors do not open if you do not have a contact ; someone who knows you, who knows someone in the publishing business.

Then there are self publishing houses that you pay to, and they publish your work for you, market it for you and so and and so forth. But they are very region based. For example Patridge publishing only caters to the Indian market. The options for me grew narrower by the day and finally I saw Kindle Direct Publishing (KDP) on amazon as that light at the end of my tunnel. It is not restricted and one can sell one’s books via amazon all over the world. The most challenging work with KDP however is marketing your book. You will have to try your best to remain conspicuous in the amazon market by using whatever marketing tools there are available today.



The journey for me has just begun but the path ahead is set well.

The Way We Are is available at

I would like to thank every one of you out there who have supported me and believed in me and my deepest gratitude goes to the ones who read my stories and leave the review it deserves. Thank you once again for all your love.




Some place better

“I give you this to take with you:
Nothing remains as it was. If you know this, you can 
begin again, with pure joy in the uprooting.”

- Judith Minty, “Letters to my Daughters”

We left the winter beaten landscape of Sweden drooping like wilted flowers dying for a single ray of sunshine. Over the years, Scandinavian winter had cast its ominous spell heavily on us until we recognised the melancholic and uninteresting streak that had begun to bend us out of shape. We could hardly appreciate the brisk summer because we knew that winter was longer, darker and it was coming. There is something about a severe winter that gives one a feeling of being trapped in a white prison. A month or two or even three of this can be romanticised but a six of those every year is enough to turn one acerbic like wine turning into vinegar. People like us are not built to survive long winter months; neither are we built to sustain scalp-piercing heat. We are simply constructed to live in a place where the weather doesn’t interfere. And where would that be? We wondered and we dreamed of it every day of our lives. Without our knowing, our children had become like us searching for the one place they could call home where life wasn’t about thick layers of clothing that was too difficult to peel off, or about being baked alive under the sun. “It’s just a matter of time. We will find it dear.” We reassured them with enough hope that hugged our dreams tight at night. What we didn’t know was, that they were growing like lotuses in a pond with roots floating lightly in the water. They could grow into beautiful individuals or into despondent creatures with no desire to ever root themselves. That was the repercussion that was likely of our flights for the search of a better world. But we braced for it with the hope of seeing them turn into fantastic human beings who had the best of many worlds and for whom adapting would be like their second skin. Perfect people for the future they await, we imagined. We could be wrong but we liked to believe that we were right.

* * *


After setting the sun rises again


a smile on your lips
a dagger underneath
fingers clasped tightly
around the hilt slyly
you let me in


Owning up to it

A life fit for a king
a song fit for a sing
we all dream

No matter how poor
no matter how sore
we all want more

How do we stop
how do we drop
staying on the top

where do we find
peace from this grind
a calm within the mind

rummage, dig, rake
let the ugly surface
let it
evaporate into nothingness

Could you be?
as deep as the sea
as rooted as the tree
as dark as a starless night
as cruel as the knife
as gossipy as the Meerkat
as broken as a door latch

I think you could
but I doubt it
I seriously doubt it
because you’d never own up to it

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Yoshay Lama

I welcome you warmly to my blog. This is the resting place of most of my creative work. This blog consists of book reviews, articles, poems, mere reflections and excerpts from my stories.

Please feel free to read and comment. I appreciate my readers tremendously.

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