I spent the first half of 2020 getting to know termites well. They arrived in my delightful new home unexpectedly and uninvited.
In 2015, my family was thrilled and surprised to find a flat with a garden in Mumbai. We spent almost a year designing the home’s interiors into a beautiful space with an earthy vibe. Our efforts created a delightful abode that even earned it a place in a famed architectural magazine. This was the retirement home my parents had dreamed of, with large windows letting in the early morning sun and a lush garden.
As our collection of plants grew, we noticed our first new visitors. Common mormons flitted near the ixoras and caterpillars of the lime swallowtail munched their way through our lemon tree. The bird bath we put out had scheduled slots for different birds. First to arrive were sparrows, followed by red-whiskered and red-vented bulbuls, who were often rudely interrupted by a common myna or crow. Mid-afternoon, a magpie robin would silently make its way for a quick dip. Tailorbirds and ashy prinias occasionally came looking for a nesting spot in the undergrowth and purple-rumped sunbirds stopped by our hibiscus for their daily dose of nectar. For four years, we lived in this blissful paradise unaware of the encroaching danger that would undo the efforts of numerous skilled craftsmen who created our little haven.
In March 2020 I first encountered the unwelcome termites on a shelf containing my prized Harry Potter books. Noticing some sort of debris on one of them, I opened it and screamed in horror. My book was alive, a space age town with tunnels, roadways, and frantic traffic. The little, rice-grain-sized insects were scurrying up and down. On the shelf was a trail of mud. One by one, I checked all seven Harry Potters. It wasn’t just a town, the termites had built a megapolis. They were definitely Potterheads, judging from the way they had devoured my books.
With a pandemic having seized the world and a nationwide lockdown declared, we had no choice but to wait. I spent this time watching the indomitable termite colonies slowly take over our house. They spread all over, moved through the false ceiling, cupboards, and anything with a smidgen of cellulose in it, leaving devastation in their wake. A termite colony as a unit is hyperaware of its surroundings and termites are constantly securing their mounds. Individuals transfer large quantities of water from one end to the other to moisturise drier parts. Weathered parts that might have been weakened by rain, wind or predators are recycled to fortify the mound and maintain the moisture levels. This collective intelligence has intrigued and inspired engineers to create robots that can directly function as a reaction to their surroundings.
If you’ve ever been on a nature trail, termite mounds are a common sight. In India these mounds are mostly constructed by species from the genus Odontotermes. Termites use a mixture of soil, water, and their own saliva to create a basic building unit called a bolus. Extracting soil from below the surface, millions of individual termites with their boluses, help in creating towering mounds, capable of reaching heights of up to 17 feet. This simple bio-cement gives the mound its strength and durability. The porosity of the walls plays a key role in drainage and humidity control. Intricate tunnel systems help in circulating the air even to the deepest parts of the mound, like a respiratory system. Researchers have observed that worker termites innately create boluses out of any available material, preferably something containing organic matter, that could be broken down easily and is water absorbent. Soldiers are in charge of defence and keep away uninvited guests, and the queen has the sole responsibility of increasing the population.
However, we had no way of keeping our uninvited guests out. Five months after our first discovery, we were unceremoniously evicted from our house as the termites expanded their empire and it became hazardous for us to live there. “Know thy enemy” part of a famous quote by Sun Tzu, a Chinese War strategist, seemed wise words in this situation.
Termites are considered among the greatest architects of nature. People all around the world draw inspiration from these creatures and implement what they learn in a variety of fields. In Zimbabwe, architect Mick Pearce designed the Eastgate Centre based on the ventilation system and temperature regulation observed in termite mounds. His design allowed the centre to save up to 90 per cent of the energy that would have otherwise been used in the cooling systems.
India has close to 330 species of termites. In January 2020, two new species, Krishnacapritermes dineshan and Krishnacapritermes manikandan, were discovered in the Western Ghats. These species, named after the researchers that discovered them, are endemic to the area.
In the natural environment, termites play an integral role as decomposers of plant material. Their eusociality makes them a dominant force when it comes to recycling nutrients in a tropical forest. They also have an important impact on the soil’s organic content, aeration, and hydrology, which has earned them the title of ‘Ecosystem Engineers’. Not all termites build mounds, some are wood dwelling and can further be categorised as drywood and dampwood termites. These infest single pieces of wood such as a fallen logs or rotten tree trunks. As important as they may be in a natural landscape, the soil dwelling or subterranean termites can cause irrevocable destruction in human habited landscapes. Damage by them can cause economic losses that run into millions. Species from the genus Coptotermes cause extensive damage not only in the construction and property industry but also in agriculture, agroforestry, and storage industries. However, these damage inducing species form a small percentage of the total diversity of termites found in India.
As I write, my home is being stripped bare of its lovely woodwork. It has been extremely heart-breaking to see months of hard work being torn down. Yet, I cannot help be in awe of this miniature army that turned our world upside down. For my family, an all-out termite invasion made us declutter our lives, reduce hoarding, work towards a more minimal and sustainable lifestyle, and most importantly, it instilled a sense of humility. Much like the pandemic, we realise that nature occasionally unleashes her smallest creations to discipline and teach the human race a lesson. It reminded me of one of my favourite quotes from the Lord of the Rings series: “Even the smallest person can change the course of the future”.