When I read, the conflict in my head goes down

Writer Devasha Pant discusses breaking self-imposed limits and her debut book, ‘In Pursuit of Inner Peaks’.

Photo: Courtesy of Devasha Pant

Reeva Khanal

Published at : April 24, 2025

Updated at : April 24, 2025 06:57

Kathmandu

Devasha Pant made her literary debut in 2024 with ‘In Pursuit of Inner Peaks’, a book that blends personal reflection with cultural critique. Drawing on her experiences growing up in Nepal and navigating life abroad, the book explores how societal expectations and identity-based stereotypes shape our internal landscapes. While studying International Relations and Human Rights at Webster Geneva Campus in Switzerland, she curated and exhibited her abstract artworks in ‘The Unseen’, an art fundraiser. Through the event, she sold three of her paintings to support cataract surgeries in Bajura, Nepal.

In this conversation with the Post’s Reeva Khanal, Pant reflects on the emotional terrain of writing her debut book, the intersections of identity and memory, and the quiet power of reclaiming one’s voice.

How did your own childhood experiences influence the metaphorical ‘inner peaks’ you chose to explore in this book?

My childhood was a quiet storm—a blend of deep silences, small rebellions, and a longing to belong. I often felt as though I was trying to justify my presence in rooms I already existed in. Those early experiences taught me that some of the hardest climbs are not visible to others. They are the moments when you question your worth, your voice, your right to dream beyond what you've been taught to accept.

The inner peaks in the book emerged from that space—each one shaped by a childhood memory that still echoes into adulthood. Writing this was my way of mapping those mountains and learning how to navigate them, not just around them.

What does resilience mean to you, especially in the context of breaking self-imposed limitations?

Resilience is not about always being strong; it’s about being able to recover from adversity. It is about choosing to return to yourself, even when parts of you are tired of fighting. When others impose limitations, they feel heavier and more personal. Resilience becomes an act of quiet rebellion: rewriting your inner narratives, reclaiming your rhythm, and learning to trust that becoming is not a linear process. It is about showing up—with softness and stubbornness—for your becoming.

What books or authors do you turn to for inspiration?

As an avid reader, each writer has their unique style of writing and communicating with their readers, but I find myself drawn to those who make the quiet feel powerful. When I read Ocean Vuong or Elif Shafak, something in me softens. The voice and conflict in my head calm down. Joan Didion reminds me that clarity can be its kind of rebellion. Khaled Hosseini shows me how to carry tenderness through displacement, and Jean Sasson’s stories taught me early on that women’s voices, especially from the Middle East and South Asia, carry immense weight when told with honesty.

Lately, I have been moved by Silvia Vasquez-Lavado’s ‘In the Shadow of the Mountain’. The way she writes about an all-female team of climbers, many of whom are from Nepal, feels both literal and metaphorical to me. It affirms what I have always believed, that some of the bravest ascents are the ones we make within ourselves. I also return to voices closer to home, such as Yuyutsu RD Sharma and Manjushree Thapa, and find unexpected inspiration in folk songs, strangers’ stories, and the quiet moments between conversations. Writing begins when I listen. And often, it is silence that gives the loudest permission to speak.

What do you hope readers will take away from ‘In Pursuit of Inner Peaks’?

I hope readers feel less alone in their contradictions. That they realise healing is not always loud or linear. It is often messy, personal, and full of pauses. In ‘Pursuit of Inner Peaks’ is not a manual; it is a mirror. A reflection of the quiet strength we all carry inside. I hope that readers feel seen in their quiet struggles and are encouraged to name their peaks, whatever they may be. Because sometimes, the most courageous journeys are the ones no one else sees, the ones that ask us to climb inward, sit with our shadows, and return with a softened, stronger sense of self.

Are you working on any new writing projects or thinking ahead to your next book?

Yes, I’m currently working on two fictional writing projects. One is a novel set in a version of Nepal I’ve imagined, an entirely fictional world that still carries the soul of places I know. The story is still unfolding, and I’m taking my time with it, letting the characters and setting reveal themselves slowly. I don’t know if anyone else will ever read it, but it’s a space I love creating.

The second is a fictional storybook, something softer and more intimate. It weaves together short tales that sit somewhere between fictional folklore and quiet reflection. I’m experimenting with voice and rhythm in a way that feels almost like storytelling around a fire. Alongside these, I’ve also been writing short blog pieces, usually within 500 words. They’re personal and spontaneous, just little windows into my thoughts and moments I want to hold onto. It’s helping me stay close to writing without the pressure of structure.

What would you say to young Nepali writers who want to share their stories with the world?

Start with honesty. Write what feels true to you, even if it seems small or uncertain at first. Your inner world matters. The way you see, feel and move through life is already a story worth telling. Don’t wait for permission or perfection—simply begin. Also, don’t be afraid of quietness. Not every story needs to be loud to be powerful. Some of the most moving writing I’ve read came from a place of stillness and reflection. Write in the language that feels most natural to you, whether that’s English, Nepali or a mix of both. Let your voice carry the texture of where you’re from, who you are and what shaped you. Our stories are no less valuable because they come from Nepal—they are richer because of it.

And, above all, protect your tenderness. The world may try to tell you that your voice is too soft, too raw, or too specific. But that softness is your strength. Keep writing. Someone, somewhere, needs your story to feel a little less alone on their own.

Devasha Pant’s book recommendations

Karnali Blues

Author: Buddhisagar

Publisher: FinePrint Books

Year: 2010

This beloved book is about the intricate bond between a father and a son, set against the backdrop of Nepal’s breathtaking landscapes.

All Roads Lead North

Author: Amish Raj Mulmi

Publisher: Context

Year: 2021

Mulmi’s well-researched work explores Nepal’s relationship with China, blending journalism, history, and geopolitics.

Little Women