Thunair: A Tree Alive for a Thousand Years

The magnificent Thunair trees, located in the remote, snow-covered mountains of the Gori valley in Western Himalay of Uttarakhand, are renowned for their medicinal properties and embody the profound connections between nature, culture, and existence. The leaves, bark, and wood of this slow-growing giant hold a mystery that carries the power not only to heal but also integrate into the many aspects of rural life. Amid changing times and forgotten traditions, the conservation of this rare tree is not merely an environmental struggle but a battle for the past, the future, and deeper meanings.

Read this story in Hindi

Nestled in the embrace of the high Himalayas, where cold winds rule the skies, countless trees sway in the Gori Valley of Munsiari. Among them stands a type of tree – rich in medicinal qualities, a tree that remains green throughout the year, like an eternal guardian of nature. With thousands of years of ancient tales woven around it, this tree remains shrouded in mystery.

This is the Thunair  tree, known in English as the Yew Tree. Its scientific name is Taxus baccata, and it belongs to the Taxaceae family. In our native tongue, Kumaoni—or as we say, Pahadi—it is called Lwenta. This tree is far from ordinary; it’s incredibly useful, with every part serving a different purpose.

The fascinating thing about Thunair, which only grows at altitudes between 2000 and 3300 meters above sea level in the Himalay, is that it takes a very long time to grow, increasing by only about an inch in height each year. This was new information to me because around where I live in the Gori valleyi in the border district of Pithoragarh in Uttarakhand, I have seen Uttis (Alder) trees that grow upto 15 feet in height in just a year or two. I was surprised to learn that a tree could take such a long time to mature.

In our Gori Valley, located in the Western Himalay near the borders of Tibet and Nepal, there are several villages. Among them is Kwiri, a village where what is considered one of the oldest Thunair tree still stands strong. This tree is estimated to be over 2,000 years old. In the forests of Thamri Kund, a lake situated on the southern slopes of Humdhura above the Munsiari bazaar, there is another Thunair tree, which is said to be around 1,000 years old. Yew trees grow only in cold regions like ours in the Himalay. Nowadays, however, here too these trees have become a rare sight.

What could be the reason for this? In today’s times, diseases like cancer are on the rise, and the demand for nature-based medicines used in treatments are increasing rapidly. The question that comes to my mind is, how exactly are these medicines made? Why did I suddenly start talking about medicines? Because in the complex process of making these medicines, trees like Thunair are deeply, and intricately, intertwined.

Let me tell you about something that happened around two years ago, when I suddenly got an urgent phone call.

“A friend urgently needs about 3 kilos of Thunair tree leaves,” a resident of Sarmoli village told me on call, asking me if I could arrange the same.

But I didn’t know why she needed them, and I had even misheard her request. She had asked for the leaves, but I thought she meant the powder of Thunair the tree’s bark, as it’s used to make a type of traditional tea called jya. I had no idea what the leaves were used for. I contacted my relatives in my village of Kwiri, about 30 kilometers from Munsiari.

“I need 3 kilos of Thunair bark powder,” I called and asked.

There wasn’t enough available in the village since no one had that much Thunair powder at hand. I then sent a message back saying that it was difficult to find Thunair powder in such a quantity.

“So, what do we do now?”

A message came back clarifing that it was not the powder but rather the leaves that were needed. A man from Haldwani required them, as he was suffering from oral cancer. That’s when I learned that Thunair’s leaves are used in the natural treatment of dangerous illnesses like cancer. If a person has oral or any other type of cancer, these leaves act as a form of medicine during that time. The leaves are a primary source of taxol, a powerful anti-cancer compound with a unique ability to inhibit the growth of breast and ovarian cancer cells, providing an essential therapeutic effect.

That is when everything finally made sense to me. The very next day, we spoke with Raju Da and Jaggu Da. They are from the Nayabasti and Sarmoli villages and work together as daily wage laborers. We asked them if they could gather some Thunair leaves, and they ventured into the reserved forest of Dheolhaar, 3 km above and west of Sarmoli village, on the slope of Khalia peak managed by the Forest Department. Here, they were able to find about 3 kilograms of Thunair leaves. We then sent those leaves to Haldwani for the person suffering from cancer.

Back in September 2024 this year, when I visited the forests of Thamri Kund, I noticed that I could spot only older Thunair trees along the ridge but barely any younger ones. I also observed that only a few Thunair trees bore fruit. I couldn’t quite understand why, but I found myself wondering what they might taste like. Still, I didn’t eat any of the fruits, because who knows – they might be poisonous. I’ve always heard that if you’re unsure about something wild and red, it’s best not to eat it. When we looked at the fruits, they were a striking red amidst the evergreen leaves. As for the flowers of this tree, they usually appear between March and May, and last until September or October.

The leaves of the Thunair tree are indeed very useful, but along with them, the powder of its bark is also used. At my house, we used to make a lot of jya, which is a type of salty tea. This tea is often prepared in high mountain villages because, a long time ago, regular tea leaves were not commonly used here, so different forest resources were used to make tea. My bubu, that is, my grandfather, who was a shepherd, like this tea and drank only this tea as long as he lived. One reason was that it kept the body warm, and another was that it was good for health. When I was a boy, my grandmother used to make this tea, and she would give it to us with sattu and sugar mixed in. To make sattu, first, wheat grains are cooked, then dried, roasted, and finally ground. It has a very good taste. I had seen that when making jya, they would add a little milk, ghee, salt, and the powder of the Thunair bark to water and boil it like tea. But I never knew then where this powder came from or how it was made

I first encountered this tree when I was in the 8th grade. My aunt had brought the bark of the Thunair tree for us from her village, Tomik (a village close to Munsiari located in the Gori valley). My mother had laid it out in the sun to dry so it could be ground properly, but I didn’t know that. I thought it was just a tree bark and ended up using it to start a fire.

My mother yelled, “DK, what did you do? Are you blind or what? The same tea you all keep asking for all day while sitting around at home, this is what it would have been made from.”

That’s when I understood that Jya was made from tree bark. But one question still lingered in my mind—what does this tree look like, and where can it be found?

Then around 2015, I went to explore Thamri Kund for the first time with my brothers. Along the way, they suddenly started climbing trees and stripping off their bark.

So I asked them, ‘What are you doing? Won’t this harm the tree?’

They said they are not cutting the tree, just removing its outer layer, so it won’t damage the tree at all.

I again asked, “why are you taking it off then?”

“This is Lwenta,” they replied.

That was the moment I finally learned that this was the  Lwenta or Thunair tree—the one I’d been curious to see for so long. And as luck would have it, I saw plenty more of them further along the trail. I noticed that the outer layer of all these trees had already been stripped away a long time ago, and it takes quite a while for the bark to grow back. I was thrilled to finally see the Thunair tree, but my brothers were a bit disappointed because they couldn’t gather as much bark as they’d hoped.

My grandmother used to say, “When we built our house in Sarmoli in 1991, our roof was made of salim grass (Chrysopogon Grylus). But to strengthen the roof, we used timber from the Thunair tree, which we brought from Martoli Thor, quite a distance away.”

Back then, people widely used this strong wood because it was naturally resistant to insects. Additionally, it didn’t decay easily and was highly durable.

But just a few years after building our home, a sudden fire broke out. The flames spread rapidly, and we were all terrified. Before we could fully grasp what was happening, all the Thunair wood in the roof of our house had burned to ashes. Yet, strangely enough, the Thunair windows and doors remained unharmed and they are still used in our new house and are in good condition even today. My grandma also said that back in the day, people used to carve beautiful designs into this wood, but that now those traditions have nearly disappeared.

Two years ago in 2022, I was trekking up to Khaliya (3500 m), and the alpine meadow at around 12 km above Munsiari, and on the way when I came to the Dheolhaar forest, it was  filled with many dry, fallen trees that were burnt. Most of them were Thunair trees.  I could not figure out what could have been the reason. So I asked one of my companions, Suresh, who belongs to the Lohaar sub-caste of the Shilpkar (artisan) community. His family has been working as iron smiths for generations. They craft tools like axes, hammers, and other iron objects, which require an intense and continuous fire in the forge. To sustain this fire, they need high-quality charcoal. Suresh explained to me that charcoal made from the Thunair tree, which is most suitable for this work, as it burns for a long time and consistently provides a high temperature.Perhaps that is why the Thunair trees were burnt down.

So I asked, “How do you know all this even though you don’t do this work yourself?”

He explained that, as a child, he used to go with his father to the Van Panchayat in Namik (a village located in the East Ramganga river valley), where huge Thunair trees are found aplenty. They would search for dry, fallen trees, set them on fire, and leave them burning all night so the wood could be thoroughly reduced to charcoal. The next day they would return, extinguish the fire with water and collect the large, hardened coal. Afterward, they would fill bags with the charcoal, bring it home, and use it in the forge for their ironwork. Occasionally, they would sell some of this charcoal to others as well. Typically, it was sold by the sack for 300 rupees, as selling by weight did not bring as much profit.

Today, my team and I are working on creating case studies of various Van Panchayats for the Community Conserved Areas (CCA) portal. This international digital portal documents and compiles information and history about Uttarakhand’s Van Panchayats and the village communities that depend on them, in one place. The aim is to ensure that, alongside the world’s indigenous community-conserved areas, information about our heritage is also read and known globally. During this process, I had the opportunity to study the resolution registers and other documents of Van Panchayats in various villages, such as Matena and Kwiri located in the Gori Valley, and to learn about their history.

In these Forest Commons where Thunair trees are found, a ban on cutting these trees or stripping their bark was imposed after 2005 because of the extensive damage caused by people. The decision to preserve these trees and increase their numbers was taken at the Forest Panchayat  (Forest Council) level by the people and prohibitory sanctions were put in place to stop any further cutting of these trees.

In the entire country, only Uttarakhand has a well-established and functional system of Van Panchayats responsible for the conservation and management of community forests; such a system does not exist anywhere else. To carry out this work, elections for the Panch (members) and Sarpanch (head) of the Van Panchayat are conducted amongst all the rightholders democratically. The elected panel then holds meetings to draft by-laws based on their circumstances and needs, as the main rules are already in place. It was under this system that a by-law was created to ban the cutting of Thunair trees and its timber to ensure their conservation. Many people think that villagers only harm forests, but in reality, it is us villagers who maintain and care of them because our very lives and livelihood are deeply dependent on these forests.                                                                    

Once I went to the Balati nursery with my friend Praveen to get a Mor Pankh  (Thuja compacta) plant. Balati is a forested area located about 8 km above Munsiari and falls under the Harkot Van Panchayat. When I saw the 10-year-old Thunair trees grown by the Forest Department in a fenced area, I was stunned for a moment, as they were present in such large numbers.

I spoke with the highest-ranking official working there.

He told me, “We planted these Thunair saplings here in 2014-15, and they have now grown into 10-year-old trees. Additionally, we have a nursery from which we sell these for ₹50, because people do not value things that they receive for free.”

In this way the conservation of these trees is ensured and people plant and care for them well. The best part is that the people of Harkot village have given part of their forest commons land, that is, a portion of the Van Panchayat, to the Forest Department for tree conservation, which is quite significant. In today’s world, where people kill each other over small plots of land and don’t even talk to one another, the people of Harkot, whose livelihoods are dependent on the forests, have dedicated a part of their forest for the protection of trees and plants.

Another example of the Thunair tree conservation is in a village called Chauna, located 11 kilometers from Munsiari in the Gori valley. In 2016, the women of this village found a significant patch of Thunair trees growing naturally  in their Van Panchayat. Overjoyed at this find, on June 5 2016, World Environment Day, the women worshipped all the young saplings. Annointing the trees as their brothers, they tied protective threads (raksha sutra) on them and pledged to safeguard them. To fulfill this commitment, the women of Chauna then decided to take turns guarding the forest daily.

I believe we should avoid excessive exploitation of natural resources, as certain resources are deeply connected to our lives and symbolize the pride of our region through their unique qualities. If we exploit them excessively, a time may come when they may vanish forever.

What would we do then?