Skeleton Lake

In northern India, the world’s 23rd-highest peak – Nanda Devi – is surrounded by an eponymous national park. In Hinduism, Nanda Devi is a manifestation of the utmost goddess of the religion, Parvati. Nanda Devi means “Bliss-Giving Goddess.” Looking at this imperious mountain, one can see why the deity and this rock were paired.

For centuries, Hindus have undertaken pilgrimages to shrines for Nanda Devi. These journeys were not easy, as they wound through intense terrain at high altitudes through what is now the national park.

A pilgrim might have been challenged physically, but the spiritual payoff along the way might have been buoyed by the natural magnificence encountered.

For instance, the route meandered near a gorgeous tarn, named Roopkund. From Hindi, this name translates to “beautifully shaped lake.”

There is something inherently appealing about glacial lakes, small bodies surrounded by mountains, the result of chiseling ice.

Roopkund is relatively tiny. Though the water levels change, it never reaches more than 10 feet in depth (3 meters) or 130 feet in width (40 meters). At an elevation of 14,882 feet (4,536 meters) and surrounded by even higher mountains covered in ice, Roopkund spends the majority of the year frozen.

One can imagine looking down at this lake on the way to visit Nanda Devi and smiling with delight at its appearance.

A particular attribute of Roopkund can shatter this serene image, however. In this part of India, Halloween does not occur in October but during the roughly one month a year when the lake unfreezes. In this short summer window, the lake becomes the manifestation of a danse macabre, like a 1920s Disney animation.

Roopkund’s nickname is Skeleton Lake because, each year, human bones emerge from its water in droves.

In 1942, a ranger in the national park noticed something bizarre in the lake when it thawed: many, many skeletons.

As World War II raged, authorities first wondered if the remains belonged to a group of Japanese military, perhaps looking to invade India through the mountains. A closer inspection, though, revealed the bones were far older than a recently deceased force.

Thanks to the cold, dry air, the skeletons do not deteriorate. During most of the year, they are frozen in ice, but each summer they emerge as the hoar melts.

When analysis finally occurred, scientists were stunned. In this small lake were the bodies of up to 800 humans. Initial dating showed the bodies were ancient, too, circa 800 AD/CE.

Why were there so many bones in Roopkund?

Was this the spot of a massacre? Was it a hotbed for ritual suicide? Was it a bizarre cemetery for people afflicted by a widespread disease?

Nearby villages maintained a legend through the centuries that the goddess struck down particularly blasphemous followers with a mighty barrage of hail.

Archaeological evidence displayed no sign of struggle, no weaponry, or goods of any kind. Genetic analysis showed there were men, women, and children. Most of them were healthy. Taken in concert, these facts ruled out many of the popular hypotheses.

Testing the evidence in the bones proved to be a double-sided forensic scalpel. Many of the skeletons were more than a millennium old, falling in the 800 AD/CE range. These people shared genes with modern Indians, as one might expect. But the mystery only deepened when the examination revealed that the group was just one of three in the lake. A single person of Southeast Asian descent popped up in the DNA, which was slightly odd. Off-the-charts crazy, however, was that a third of the tested skeletons displayed ancestry from Europe, specifically Crete. Further complicating issues, the Southeast Asian and the Aegean groups were not from 800 AD/CE but sometime between 1650 and 1950 (most likely during the 18th century)!

Incredibly, some of the skulls of the older group displayed damage consistent with being struck by large, round objects. Scientists believe these injuries likely occurred during a freak hail storm, meaning the myth from the surrounding villages might have been seeded in a real event. Not everyone in this first group died at the same time; dating suggests they perished over a couple of centuries. Researchers believe these data point to a place where pilgrims often met their demise thanks to inclement weather. Perhaps people would attempt to shelter in the cove around the lake as the conditions worsened, where they succumbed to exposure.

But who comprised the other groups in more modern times?

Historians are aware of exactly zero European groups traipsing through the Indian Himalayas in this era. No military forces, no traders, and, likely, no converts to Hinduism on a pilgrimage.

Was the genetic testing erroneous or contaminated? Scientists seem fairly certain the results are sound. What could possibly have led a group of genetic Greeks to Skeleton Lake in the 1700s? One possible theory revolves around tribes in India that had not genetically mixed with the rest of the population, who could somehow be descendants of ancient Greeks. Though far-fetched, Alexander the Great ventured to India during his attempt to conquer the world. He often left forces or commanders in the areas, some of whom stayed for the long haul. Rudyard Kipling wrote “The Man Who Would Be King” about a group known as the Kalash, a people from Pakistan who claim to be derived from Alexander the Great. The genetics of the Kalash display European markers, too.

Alas, the genetics of the Kalash do not match the group at Skeleton Lake.

The genetic testing displayed two other oddities about this Greek group. They did not display signs of inbreeding (i.e. they were not a group separated from the rest of the world) and they showed signs of eating food from the Mediterranean.

Who in the world were these people, and how did they end up dead in Roopkund? The science unraveled some secrets, only to raise more. To date, no complete archaeological excavation of the site has transpired. Perhaps, if one ever happens, the mystery of Skeleton Lake might materialize.

Until then, the only things coming out of the water at Roopkund are the yearly dancing skeletons.