A closer look at Sikkim Sundari, the Himalayan flower that blooms once in decades and then dies

High in the cold, windy parts of the eastern Himalayas grows a plant so rare that it seems almost mythical. Locals call it Sikkim Sundari, and scientists know it as Rheum nobile. This remarkable plant is one of Sikkim’s best-kept secrets, waiting as a quiet reward for travellers who make the climb to higher altitudes. In a viral post, business baron Anand Mahindra has described the Sikkim Sundari as “a masterclass in patience.”

Thriving at 4,000 to 4,800 metres, this plant belongs to a fascinating group often referred to as “glasshouse plants.” Its tall, translucent bracts act like natural greenhouses, trapping heat and protecting the delicate flowers inside from freezing winds and intense UV radiation. Against the stark Himalayan landscape, the plant appears almost luminous—like a glowing tower rising from rock and snow.

Sikkim Sundari (Photo: Wikipedia)

“This plant is monocarpic, so it flowers just once in its life. For 7 to 30 years, it stays close to the ground as a small rosette of leaves, quietly saving energy in tough mountain conditions. Then, in one last, dramatic moment, it grows up to two metres tall, blooms into a pagoda-shaped tower, spreads its seeds, and dies,” Mahindra noted in his post.

Few plants show the idea of waiting for glory as clearly as this one. The Sikkim Sundari is both a privilege and a poignant reminder of the fragility of Himalayan ecosystems. It is typically found along high-altitude trekking routes in North Sikkim, particularly near alpine passes and glacial valleys. Because it grows in such extreme environments, sightings are rare and seasonal, making the experience even more special for nature lovers and photographers.

Locals have admired this plant for both its beauty and its toughness. In traditional Himalayan knowledge, Rheum nobile was once associated with medicinal uses, but today it is strictly protected and admired only from afar. Another interesting detail is that its thin, papery bracts rustle in the wind, giving it an almost musical quality.

The Sikkim Sundari also raises an important question Anand Mahindra hints at: why do we so often learn about exotic flora from distant continents. At the same time, such wonders exist in our own backyard? As eco-tourism and conservation awareness grow in Sikkim, the plant is slowly gaining the recognition it deserves.