History of Arunachal Pradesh is told in a lucid, anecdotal style through historic milestones which changed the shape of the Northeast.

New Delhi: Few books from either side of the “Chicken’s Neck”—the narrow Siliguri Corridor linking India’s eight North Eastern states to the rest of the country—succeed in presenting the region’s history simply and lucidly. In Between The Blurry Lines by Sonam Chombay, a senior Arunachal Pradesh bureaucrat, does so with rare clarity. It recounts the state’s past through 14 defining events that shaped Arunachal Pradesh—and India.
Sonam, an Arunachali of commissioner rank in the state administration, chose not to follow a dry, chronological approach. Instead, he picked milestone events and narrated them with anecdotes to keep readers engaged. The brisk pace and lively storytelling show the wisdom of his choice.
General J.J. Singh, former Governor of Arunachal Pradesh and a senior military commander, endorsed the work at its India Habitat Centre launch in New Delhi. Calling it “a product of deep research,” he praised its insights into the state’s history, culture, and development. He noted its historic and reference value, covering the period from the 19th century to today, when Arunachal is making a distinct mark on modern India.
The book opens with the 1826 Battle of Yandaboo, which allowed the British to enter North East India to pursue tea, oil, and coal interests. It examines the British Crown’s Bengal Eastern Frontier Regulation, 1873, ostensibly aimed at protecting tribal land rights and culture, but in reality designed to exploit resources and facilitate large-scale Christian missionary activity.
The 15 chapters, anchored on 14 pivotal events over 199 years, cover subjects ranging from the British “Inner Line” and “Outer Line” strategy to the McMahon Line agreement between British India, Tibet, and China—still central to the India-China border dispute and Tibet’s fate.
In The Holy Exile: Ancient Indian Wisdom Returns, Sonam revisits 1959, when the Dalai Lama fled Chinese rule in Tibet and entered Arunachal seeking asylum. The 1962 Sino-Indian war chapter recounts how the Chinese army, expecting local support, instead met a population staunchly siding with the Indian Army. Sonam’s discussion with Chief Minister Pema Khandu underscores this bond; Khandu recalls visiting border outposts with pride and gratitude for the armed forces.
The author also dissects the 1954 Panchsheel Agreement between Nehru’s India and China, arguing that it squandered India’s historic advantages in Tibet and effectively recognised China’s colonial occupation.
The narrative closes with an account of Arunachal’s recent transformation, particularly infrastructure development to bolster India’s security against Chinese designs in occupied Tibet.
Sonam’s work stands out for combining historical depth with an insider’s cultural understanding. The anecdotes—from British colonial ploys to border politics, from the Dalai Lama’s escape to the courage of Arunachalis in 1962—make the book engaging as well as informative. As General Singh put it, it captures “the true essence of Arunachal” because it is written by one of its own people.
For readers seeking to understand Arunachal Pradesh beyond maps and headlines, In Between The Blurry Lines is both a compelling read and a valuable reference.
Vijay Kranti is a veteran journalist and Chairman, Centre for Himalayan Asia Studies and Engagement.