A dubious distinction no doubt, but I’m convinced I’ve been bled by leeches far more often than anyone else. No guinea-pig, I’m just an ordinary guy with an extraordinary passion for fishing which often takes me into the hills of Munnar where these parasites abound — and feed off me freely while I’m preoccupied trying to outwit a couple of rainbow trout. Needless to say, I always end up with more leech bites than trout nibbles.
Perhaps the most obnoxious pest in the hill-resorts, the leech lurks in damp vegetation, waiting for the unwary passer-by. Indeed its painless extraction of blood, without ever alerting you, would shame the most skilled paramedic who sticks a syringe into your forearm for a sample.
No part of the human anatomy, clothed or unclothed, is inaccessible to these prying parasites. However alert you may be, you unavoidably end up making involuntary ‘blood donations’ to the many leeches that relentlessly converge on you despite being furiously flicked off time and again. For sheer persistence there’s nothing to beat a blood-thirsty leech.
The monsoon sees a marked proliferation of these ravenous spongers, out for your blood quite literally. It’s hard to believe that this slimy worm-like creature, as thin as a pin, can swell to 8 to 10 times its normal size once it’s had its fill. And then, try as you might, its suction-like grip on your body ensures it can’t be plucked out easily. It would, in fact, rival a limpet.
As one whose ankles double as filling-stations for leeches, I’ve tried out various types of leech repellent. Though useful, these messy concoctions have an awful stink that tends to repel the user and his companions as well! A friend, a snuff-addict, swears by the efficacy of his nasal stimulant in repelling leeches and never ventures out without his snuffbox. On the other hand, I’ve found common salt an effective leech repellent and always carry a pouch of it when in ‘enemy territory’ — as do local tea garden workers. For no leech can ever resist the temptation to check out a pair of bare legs.
Not surprisingly, the word ‘leech’ has only derogatory connotations as can be expected of a parasitic blood-sucker. Some oft-bitten optimists believe that regular leech bites can cleanse the blood of impurities — a moot point of haematological interest. Leeches regard me as an ever-obliging ‘blood bank’, immune to their frequent nipping — though I know a fellow-angler who once came pretty close to needing a blood transfusion after being virtually drained by them!
Given the leech’s unsavoury reputation, the uninitiated are understandably wary of it. Yet the scenario is all too familiar when one is discovered sampling someone’s blood. Horrified squeals are followed by frantic efforts to pluck out the intruder, with modesty often being thrown to the winds. People touring these places should always be on the watch. They should steer clear of damp foliage unless you want an unscheduled date with scores of these freeloaders, hell-bent on ‘autographing’ your anatomy — with your own blood!