A Frog of the Western Ghats

 

The monsoon mist hung low over the emerald canopy of the Western Ghats, turning the forest into a dreamy realm where the lines between the real and the magical blurred. I had ventured deep into these ancient mountains as a curious traveller with a notebook, a camera, and a heart open to wonder.

The constant patter of rain on leaves had become a comforting rhythm. The forest pulsed with life—drenched vines curled around mossy trunks, and unseen life chirped and croaked like an orchestra hidden behind green curtains.

As dusk approached, the trail narrowed, leading me to a clearing framed by knotted roots and glistening ferns. There, at the edge of an old log of wood, I paused. Something shimmered on the ground, catching the last flickers of twilight. I squatted down and blinked—was it a trick of the light?

No. It moved. A small frog sat perfectly still. But it was unlike any species I had ever seen. Its skin was jet-black but speckled with iridescent spots—tiny galaxies swirling across its back, like the night sky bottled into that tiny body. I held my breath. This was no ordinary amphibian. This was the Galaxy Frog, a rare and elusive species known formally as Melanobatrachus indicus, which is believed to have been rediscovered after nearly a century.

It turned its obsidian eyes toward me. I resisted the urge to move closer, worried I’d scare it away. Instead, I slowly lowered myself onto a nearby rock, rain trickling down my jacket, and simply watched.

The frog took a few tentative steps forward, as if to acknowledge my presence. Its skin glimmered under the damp canopy, a living constellation on a forest floor.

A gentle rumble of thunder rolled overhead, and just like that, the frog slipped into the underbrush. Gone, like a shooting star that vanishes in the blink of an eye.

I stayed there long after it disappeared, heart thudding. The encounter was too sacred, too rare, I felt something warm on my cheek, not a raindrop, but a tear that had rolled down voluntarily. In the wilds of the Western Ghats, under a rain-soaked sky, I had met a galaxy—not in space, but in the heartbeat of a frog. and this is something, I would never forget.

Image: AI generated