Bichchu Booti- a fierce plant with the power to sting and to heal

When Jyoti accidentally brushes against Bichchu Booti (stinging nettle) while playing in her village Satyawali, searing pain shoots through her skin. As her grandmother swiftly prepares a remedy from another plant nearby, the author learns a deeper truth—what harms can also heal. Through the eyes of her family, she discovers how this feared wild plant has long been a source of food, medicine, and even fabric. Set against the backdrop of Satyawali in Himachal Pradesh where nature and tradition intertwine, this story explores how knowledge, passed through generations, transforms fear into understanding.

Read this story in Hindi

“Maa, Maa, Aiyo, Maa!”— Jyoti screamed, crying and writhing in pain.

Hearing her anguished cries, my Dadi (grandmother), mother, father and brother rushed out of the house in panic. Our home is in the beautiful village of Satyawali nestled on the slopes of a mountain, in Bali Chowki, a region in Mandi district of Himachal Pradesh.

Jyoti’s two braids had come undone and her white ribbons were tangled in her dishevelled hair. Her white salwar, part of her school uniform, was completely soiled with dirt and grass. Her school bag lay abandoned to one side. She moved around frantically, screaming and rubbing her body. Her skin had turned red and was covered in rashes.

Grandma understood immediately—Jyoti had been stung by bichchu booti.

In English, bichchu booti is known as stinging nettle. It is a thorny plant commonly found in the mountains of the Himalay. Its scientific name is Urtica dioica, and in our Himachali (Western Pahari) dialect, it is called kukshi or kungas.

The Healing Properties of the Nettle

At first glance, this plant appears ordinary, but its structure is complex and fascinating. Its leaves and stem are covered in fine, needle-like hairs called trichomes that are hollow from the inside—just like the needle of a syringe! When someone touches this plant, these sharp trichomes pierce the skin and break off, releasing bioactive compounds like histamine, acetylcholine, and serotonin. Serotonin intensifies pain signals, heightening the burning sensation, making the sting of bichchu bootimore than just an itch— it causes sharp pain and irritation. The presence of oxalic acid further increases the stinging effect and prolongs the discomfort, which is why the itching and burning sensation from touching the stinging nettle does not subside quickly and can persist for quite some time. This is the plant’s evolved defence mechanism, protecting it from being eaten by herbivores.

On her way to school, Jyoti accidentally tumbled into a dense patch of bichchu booti. In an instant, the sharp stinging hair dug deep into her skin, as if countless needles had been pierced into her at once. A searing burning pain made her writhe in agony. She cried helplessly, rubbing her skin in an attempt to ease the discomfort, but with every touch, the burning sensation only intensified. In our village, clusters of bichchu booti grow abundantly— along field edges, roadside paths, corners of courtyards, and places where organic waste or animal dung accumulates, since such soil is highly fertile. This plant particularly thrives in nitrogen-rich areas, which is why it is often found near compost piles and manure heaps. A mere brush against them is enough to make anyone recoil in pain.

Coming in contact with bichchu booti had left Jyoti’s skin covered in red, inflamed patches known as urticaria or hives. This is an allergic reaction where histamine and other chemicals trigger swelling, itching, and a burning sensation on the skin. It is commonly referred to as nettle rash, as it specifically occurs due to the sting of bichchu booti. These rashes usually subside on their own within a few hours or days, but washing with cold water or applying an anti-allergic cream provides relief. At that moment, however, we did not have any anti-allergic cream.

Grandma was trying to console Jyoti, while Mother quickly plucked a few leaves of bhang growing nearby. Bhang is known as Cannabis in English, and its scientific name is Cannabis sativa. It is primarily found in parts of Asia, Europe, and the Americas. In India, it grows naturally, especially in the Himalayan regions—Himachal Pradesh, Uttarakhand, Jammu and Kashmir, and the north-eastern states. Bhang is used for medicinal, industrial, and sometimes even for recreational purposes.

Mother began crushing the bhang leaves between her palms. Bhang is believed to be effective in soothing the sting of bichchu booti because it naturally possesses anti-inflammatory and cooling properties. When crushed and applied to the affected area, it provides relief by cooling the skin and reducing the burning sensation, itching, and swelling.

The cooling properties of bhang leaves can neutralize the effects of the irritating chemicals released by bichchu booti—such as histamine and serotonin. In Himachal and other mountainous regions, this traditional remedy has been used for generations. Without wasting a moment, Mother quickly began applying the rubbed leaves onto Jyoti’s skin.

Jyoti’s condition had become miserable— her entire body was writhing from the burning sensation and itching. Along with bhang leaves, Dadi applied fresh, fresh makkhan (butter) to the areas where the bichchu booti had stung her. Gradually, the cooling effect of the bhang and the butter began to soothe Jyoti’s burning pain, bringing her some relief.

That evening, Jyoti’s sister, Teenu, had her ears pierced by Dadi in the village. She used a thorn to make the piercing, causing Teenu significant pain. Seeing her discomfort, Dadi plucked a bichchu booti leaf with her walking stick, rubbed it against a stone to extract its juice, and applied it to Teenu’s freshly pierced ear.

Applying bichchu booti juice to wounds or cuts helps alleviate pain because it possesses natural anti-inflammatory and analgesic properties. The histamine and acetylcholine present in the plant first stimulate the nerves and then make them less sensitive, reducing the sensation of pain. Its leaves are rich in Vitamin C and iron, which improve blood circulation and accelerate the body’s natural healing process. Additionally, serotonin and other compounds found in the plant help reduce inflammation, providing relief from pain and irritation. Traditionally, it has also been used as a natural pain reliever.

Isn’t it ironic that the very plant that stings so fiercely also has the power to heal pain caused by other reasons?

The cool and soothing sensation instantly relieved Teenu.

Smiling, she said, “Dadi, this feels so refreshing and comforting! My pain is much less now.”

Meanwhile, standing nearby, Jyoti was busy uprooting the nettle plants. She was afraid that some child might fall into them and suffer the same burning pain she had experienced. Sitting in a corner of the courtyard, smoking his hookah (an oriental tobacco pipe), Dada (grandpa) silently observed everything.

Suddenly, he stopped Jyoti and said, “That’s enough, don’t pull them all out! We grew up with these plants. Leave some near the courtyard! Seeing them reminds me of my mother. When I was a child and got upto mischief, she used to scare me with these nettles.”

In the village, stinging nettle has a unique relationship with people— it is used both as a deterrent and as medicine. Whenever Raju, the mischievous boy of the village refuses to do his work or annoys others, his mother threatens to hit him with a nettle branch. The children who try to avoid studying are also scared into sitting with their books using the same trick.

Hearing these stories, I was reminded of my own childhood— of the days when the village elder, Paras Ram Ji, would chase us around the village with kungas (nettle) in his hand as we played. He never actually hit anyone, but the fear of him was enough to send us running. In the end, we would dash into our baudi (kitchen) and hide. It was almost like playing a game of tag.

Jyoti was still beating down the stinging nettle in the courtyard with a thick stick. Just like that, she cleared all the nettles along the path. But from Dada’s words, it was clear that for him, this was not just a thorny plant— it was a part of his memories and life.

The nettles, now lying on the ground, seemed to lament—

“As long as I was needed,
The world adored me.
I am a thorn,
I have always been a thorn,
But now, I have begun to hurt.”

Different kinds of Nettle and its uses in cooking

There are five major species of stinging nettle found in different regions across the world, each with distinct uses. Common Nettle (Urtica dioica) is the most widespread species and is used as a vegetable, in tea, and for medicinal purposes. Dwarf Nettle (Urtica urens) is smaller in size but causes a more intense sting. In India, it is found only in Sikkim and Darjeeling. Wood Nettle (Laportea canadensis) is commonly found in the forests of Canada, and its leaves are used for both food and medicine. Himalayan Nettle (Girardinia diversifolia) grows mainly in the Himalayan regions, and its fibrous stems were traditionally used to make ropes and fabric. False Nettle (Boehmeria cylindrica) looks similar to stinging nettle but lacks the stinging hairs, making it primarily useful for medicinal and environmental purposes. In our village, Satyawali, both Himalayan Nettle and Common Nettle grow. It was the Common Nettle that had stung Jyoti.

Huma Devi,  a 78-year-old resident of Satyawali village told me, “When I was a child, my grandmother used to extract fibres from the large, dried stalks of stinging nettle and use them to make ropes.”

The ropes made from nettle fibers were extremely strong.

Bina Nitwal, a resident of Sarmoli village in Uttarakhand, shared, “In our village, Sarmoli, we find three types of stinging nettle, which we locally call Syoon Booti. One variety is Arel Syoon, whose fibers are used to make fabric and whose leaves are cooked as a vegetable. The second is Kala Syoon Booti, and the third is simply Syoon, both of which are used to prepare vegetables and tea.”

This past winter, when I returned home from college, I caught a bad cold due to freezing temperatures. Satyawali is nestled in the high-altitude regions of Himachal, where thick layers of snow blanket the village every winter. This year was no different— heavy snowfall completely blocked the roads leading to the city, making it impossible to get any medicine.

Shivering from the cold, I complained to my grandmother. She smiled and said, “The cure is right here in our own courtyard!”

She pointed towards the stinging nettle plants growing in one corner of the yard. I was astonished— the very plant I had avoided all my childhood for fear of its sting and burning sensation was now about to become my medicine!

Dadi carefully plucked the nettle leaves with a pair of tongs— touching them with bare hands was out of the question. She then boiled them to make  a steaming hot soup. The mildly sharp aroma and the warmth of each sip melted away the cold inside me. Within moments, I felt my shivers subside, and my congestion began to ease. I couldn’t help but think— so much exists around us; we just need to recognize it!

After that, Dadi thoroughly cleaned the leaves, as they were covered in dust and had tiny insects clinging to them. Once cleaned, she dropped them into boiling water to neutralize their stinging effect. As the leaves softened, she began grinding them on a Sheel—a traditional grinding stone made of two large flat rocks, used for crushing spices, making chutneys, and grinding leaves into a fine paste. Slowly, the stinging nettle paste began to take form. Then, she heated some ghee in a pan over the chulha (traditional clay stove) and lightly tempered it with spices.

Once the ground nettle leaves were lightly sautéed, Dadi added a bit of flour and water and left it to simmer. After a while, the soup was ready. When it cooled slightly, I took my first sip, and an unexpected sensation washed over me— a perfect blend of warmth, relief, and flavor! This soup was more effective than any medicine. After drinking it for two days in a row, my cold was completely gone.

Stinging nettle curry is packed with nutrients and provides significant relief from colds and congestion. As itis rich in Vitamin C, iron, antioxidants, and anti-inflammatory properties, it strengthens the immune system and helps the body fight infections. The antibacterial elements in the leaves help soothe sore throats, clear nasal blockages, and reduce coughing. Additionally, it helps loosen mucus and keeps the body warm from within, speeding up recovery from colds and flu. Consuming stinging nettle provides energy and combats weakness, making it especially beneficial during the winter months.

Every winter, my grandmother also prepares a stinging nettle vegetable dish, which is made similarly to the soup but with the addition of mountain potatoes. During the winter months, when heavy snowfall blankets the fields in a white sheet and fresh vegetables become scarce, stinging nettle remains easily available.

Grandmother learned this traditional method of making stinging nettle soup and vegetable dish from her mother. She recalled how, when she was a child, her mother would often prepare these dishes in winter. It wasn’t just a simple meal but also a home remedy that provided nourishment and warmth during harsh cold days.

One night, my uncle suddenly fell in the freezing darkness and sprained his foot. Reaching a doctor wasn’t easy from our remote village. Seeing his pain, the elders of the village prepared a stinging nettle poultice. Dadi finely ground the stinging nettle leaves on the sheel, mixed in a little salt, and applied it to his swollen foot. It is believed to be highly effective for internal injuries and swelling, and indeed, my uncle felt relief.

Stinging nettle is not only packed with medicinal properties but also plays a crucial role in maintaining ecological balance. It enhances soil fertility and supports biodiversity. Its deep roots help stabilize the soil, reducing erosion, while its leaves and stems serve as a food source for insects, butterflies, and birds. Traditionally recognized for its medicinal value, this plant also has natural pesticide properties, aiding in crop protection and promoting organic farming. Additionally, it absorbs carbon dioxide and helps maintain atmospheric oxygen levels. Preserving this ancient plant is essential not just for human health but for the entire ecosystem.

Fading Knowledge

My grandmother learned about the bichchu booti from her mother, then she passed it on to my mother. But my mother never taught me, nor did I make an effort to learn from her. It seems that this knowledge will remained confined to my mother’s generation. Perhaps because we now have so many resources that we don’t seem to feel the need for it anymore.

I feel that in today’s fast-paced life, people don’t have the time to learn about such things. Nowadays, people rely more on readily available market products instead of home remedies. I want to learn, and fortunately, my grandmother can still teach me. But in the village, very few people remain who can pass this knowledge on. Earlier, people used stinging nettle to make ropes and fabric, but now, this tradition has almost disappeared from our village. My only fear is that if we don’t learn it now, there will be no one left to teach it in the future.

I have noticed that this knowledge is often passed down from woman to woman— from grandmothers to mothers, and then to daughters or daughters-in-law. I understand that men are aware of it too, but when it comes to traditional culinary skills, we only mention women. Shouldn’t men also be a part of this heritage? Shouldn’t mothers teach their sons the art of cooking as well? Why only daughters?

In my view, people today do not value the stinging nettle as much as they once did. Due to modern agriculture and urbanization, the importance of local herbs is diminishing. People now see it as an unwanted weed growing in their courtyards or fields, whereas in reality, it benefits health, biodiversity, and soil fertility. If people are made aware of its benefits once again, it will not only help preserve traditional knowledge but will also prove beneficial for nature and our well-being.

Jannat, my classmate from Satyawali village, says, “I want bichchu booti to be preserved, along with the recipes that have been passed down for generations. Just as we no longer have the knowledge of making ropes from it, one day, if we are not careful, we may lose the knowledge of making its vegetable dish as well.”

Twinkle, a twelfth-grade girl from the same village, also understands the importance of stinging nettle.

She says, “bichchu booti is not just a plant; it is a valuable heritage whose true worth was known to our ancestors. They preserved it for generations, and now it is our responsibility to protect it, so future generations can continue to benefit from it.”

The very plant we dismiss as thorny nuisance is actually nature’s priceless treasure. Countless herbs, just like the stinging nettle have already been lost due to our ignorance. If humanity continues on this path, future generations will only hear their names in stories.

As he took a deep puff from his hookah, dada, understanding this change, sighed deeply and said:

“The era of proverbs has passed,
Who listens to the elders anymore?
Today, people do only what pleases them.”