By Tanzin Tsokit
During the final semester of my master’s program, I worked on an assignment titled “Fairs and Festivals of Spiti Valley” for my paper on Buddhism in India. I was genuinely excited about the topic. I began by drafting a rough outline of how the work would proceed, from collecting data to eventually shaping it into what I hoped would be a meaningful piece. After completing and submitting it, I would say it turned out to be fairly decent. However, what remained unsettling throughout the process was the stage of data collection, which proved to be the most challenging part.
While writing about a region like Spiti, one can hardly ignore the fact that resources are extremely limited. For my work, I had to rely largely on elders and oral sources. Initially, this was somewhat disappointing. When I asked elders about the origins and significance of certain festivals, the answers were often fragmented, basic knowledge at best, and that was disheartening.
This experience made me realize that our history is fragile and fading. What once carried deep cultural meaning is now being passed from one generation to another with a gradual loss of identity and depth, much like the energy that diminishes with each trophic level.
That realization drove me to delve deeper into the history of our region. Only a couple of weeks ago, while sifting through a few research papers, I stumbled upon something very interesting. It would feel rather selfish to keep such information to myself without giving it an audience. I have never been very open about my writing, but this time I wanted to put it out there. As a Spitian, I believe it is my duty to share fragments of our past that may be on the verge of losing their essence. I am sanguine that by the end of this piece you will learn something new about Spiti, and I hope you hold on to it.
As a child, I often heard stories about people discovering precious stones such as rzi and donating them to monasteries without keeping even a small portion for themselves. However, I had never come across any accounts of burials being discovered in this region. After reading “A Preliminary Investigation of the Burial Sites at Spiti Valley in Himachal Pradesh, India” by Ekta Singh, I was astonished at my own ignorance for not having encountered this study earlier. The research was published in 2017, yet I came across it only in 2026, and I am sure many others may also be learning about it only now.
What puzzled me most was this: Who practiced burial in this region, given that the present population largely follows Tibetan Buddhism, where the deceased are typically cremated? I have also heard about sky burials being practiced here until the recent past but I had never heard of underground burials. Since underground burial is not a funerary practice within Mahayana Buddhism, the presence of such burials raises a deeper question about our past. Who inhabited this region before us? Were they non-Buddhist communities, or perhaps groups that settled here only briefly in the distant past?
What puzzled me most was this: Who practiced burial in this region, given that the present population largely follows Tibetan Buddhism, where the deceased are typically cremated?
Tanzin Tsokit
Since three grave sites had been excavated in Kibber, I contacted my friend from the village, hoping she might have something to add. Fortunately, her grandmother still had a clear memory of those days. She told us that in earlier times people followed two kinds of funerary practice depending on the situation- cremation and sky burial (Jhator).
Of these, cremation was more common and widely practiced while sky burial was carried out in certain situations, for instance if the deceased had a medical condition believed to spread within the community if the body was burnt. This made me wonder, if a disease could spread through burning, would it not also affect the birds that fed on the body? On looking further into it, I learned that scavengers such as vultures have extremely strong digestive systems, which largely eliminate such risks.
She also spoke about the seasonal choice of funerary rites. According to her, cremation was often avoided in summer because it was believed that the burning of the body could affect nearby agricultural crops, which led to a preference for sky burial. Whether this belief was specific to the village or shared more widely across the region remains uncertain.
From my own understanding, the practice of sky burial may be seen as a final act of altruism, offering one’s body for the benefit of other sentient beings. This could be one of the ethical ideas associated with the practice in Buddhist contexts.
Regarding the seasonal choice of rites, I surmise that it may also relate to the migration of birds during harsh winter conditions. In their relative absence, cremation might have been adopted as an alternative. Another possible factor could have been the limited availability of firewood required for cremation.
At this point, the Jain philosophical idea of Anekantavada, the idea that truth may possess multiple facets seems particularly relevant. These explanations may represent different perspectives shaped by ecological conditions, local beliefs and ethical interpretations.
When asked about the discovered grave sites, she mentioned that locals believe they were the result of a natural disaster, in which people were buried under debris. This explanation, however, appears unlikely. The graves found in various parts of Spiti are structured, some are cist burials, and many contain precious items placed alongside the bodies. Such characteristics indicate deliberate burial practices rather than accidental occurrence. Another local belief attributes the graves to scuffles that ensued among inhabitants resulting in deaths, possibly reflecting the absence of formal law and order in earlier times. Yet the presence of multiple organized graves makes this explanation doubtful as well. Moreover, the strong sense of community and reverence for social bonds traditionally observed in the region further complicates such interpretations.
In her study, Ekta Singh concludes that the burials discovered in Spiti closely resemble those excavated in other high-altitude regions of the Trans-Himalaya. She suggests that they likely belonged to the pre-Buddhist inhabitants of the valley, dating to a period before the 7th century CE.
Similarly, John Vincent Bellezza, in his detailed work on burial sites in Spiti, ‘Flight of the Khyung’, points to strong cultural links between Spiti and Guge in western Tibet (Ngari Prefecture). This region is also believed to have been part of the Zhang Zhung polity until the 7th century. Similarities in the archaeological finds from Spiti and western Tibet suggest that the burial practices discovered in Spiti may possibly be associated with communities linked to Zhang Zhung. Dr. Bellezza also expresses concern about the plundering and destruction of these sites by locals, largely due to a lack of awareness about their historical importance. Much of this heritage has already been lost, and what remains is not sufficient to fully ascertain the facts or reconstruct the past. For now, much of our understanding rests on careful assumptions.
These archaeological excavations suggest that the settlement in Spiti dates back to pre-Buddhist communities which were previously unknown and give us a new lens to understand our past. It reminds us how deep the history of Spiti truly is.
There is much more to it than we often assume.
Bio of Tanzin Tsokit- With an Honours degree in English Literature and a Master’s in History, I’m fascinated by the stories that history leaves behind and the people and places that keep them alive.
