Each monsoon as the rain cloud rolls across the mist-laden hills of Darjeeling, an elusive amphibian stirs. The Himalayan salamander (Tylototriton himalayanus) – ‘Goro’ to the locals is a living relic from the age of the dinosaurs, often called a “living fossil”.
This rare amphibian creature is one of the three salamander species found in northeast region of India, and one of the few surviving high-altitude amphibians of South Asia. Outside of Darjeeling, it is only found in eastern Nepal (Ilam district) and western Bhutan. For those lucky enough to glimpse it, its dark brown, shiny body covered with knob like warts and ridged head, it can feel like stepping into the Jurassic era.
But this rare amphibian is now at a crossroads. Despite being protected under Schedule I of India’s Wildlife (Protection) Act, 1972, its habitats are shrinking fast. The story of the Himalayan salamander is as much about the vulnerability of the species as it is about the fragility of the Himalayan wetlands it calls home.
Natural History
The salamander thrives in cool, shaded wetlands, forest ponds, and natural lakes above 900 m and up to 2417 m. It spends much of the year hidden, surfacing in the rainy season to breed. Salamanders breed only in pristine, unpolluted waters, making them excellent indicators of ecosystem health.
Old anecdotal records describe the salamander’s presence across Darjeeling, Kalimpong, and Sikkim. Elders in villages still recall seeing them regularly in ponds and rice paddies – a reminder that the species might have been far more widespread.
“When I was a child, salamanders were a common sight in our fields after rain,” recalls 72-year-old Nima Tamang from Pokhriabong, Darjeeling. “Now we see them rarely. The wetlands are fewer, and the water doesn’t stay as long.”
Vanishing Wetlands
Today, those habitats are disappearing. Many breeding sites have been drained, encroached upon, or altered by roads and construction. Unregulated tourism has brought new pressures and important wetlands, and breeding habitat are being threatened.
For example, one of the best natural habitats for the salamander, Majhidura is being promoted as “mini Pahalgam,” drawing vloggers, influencers, and unchecked crowds but leaving behind garbage, trampling, and poorly planned infrastructure that damages fragile breeding grounds.
The problem is made more complex by the fact that most salamander habitats fall outside protected forests, lying instead in tea gardens, village commons, and community lands. Conservation here cannot rely only on laws. It must depend on cooperation between communities, government agencies, landowners and conservationists.
“Tourism is important, but if it damages the salamander’s ponds, we lose both nature and livelihoods,” says Furba Tshering, a youth leader from Sukhiapokhri. “We want development, but it must be the right kind.”
Stakeholders and Conflicting Perceptions
While forest officials and researchers recognize the species’ vulnerability, local perceptions are mixed. Communities often equate visible salamander sightings with population increases, dismissing the fact that habitat loss is simultaneously accelerating.
Salamanders are usually considered cryptic, meaning they can be difficult to see in their natural habitats due to their effective camouflage, nocturnal habits, and tendency to remain hidden under leaf litter, rocks, or logs. Increased sightings of such a species could signify habitat disturbance, degradation, or ecological stress, such as changes in moisture, deforestation, or pollution. If this misconception persists, it could weaken conservation urgency and allow further habitat degradation.
Guardians of the Species
In Darjeeling, the Forest Department and NGO’s like FOSEP and WWF has been active in awareness campaigns, monitoring, and offering institutional support for site-level protection.
But given the species’ distribution, its long-term survival depends equally on communities, researchers, and tea garden managers. Encouragingly, villages like Majhidura have already taken the initiative, calling meetings to discuss sustainable tourism and conservation.
Some grassroots models are emerging: involving local youth in salamander monitoring, training communities in ecotourism, and exploring nature-based livelihoods that align with wetland protection. These efforts show that conservation and economic well-being do not have to be at odds.
The Way Forward
Saving the Himalayan salamander requires a multi-pronged approach. Habitat protection must prevent haphazard construction and focus on restoring degraded wetlands. Community partnerships are needed to ensure locals benefit through sustainable tourism and conservation incentives. Scientific monitoring is essential for tracking salamander numbers, breeding success, and threats like chytrid fungus. Citizen science can also play a role by empowering schools and nature groups to report sightings and promote awareness.
The Himalayan salamander is more than an amphibian. It is a symbol of the fragile balance between people and nature in the Eastern Himalaya.
Its future will depend on whether we can protect the wetlands that sustain it, while creating space for communities to thrive alongside. In the misty hills of Darjeeling, the survival of this shy, ancient creature may well determine the survival of the ecosystems it represents. Protecting it is not just an act of conservation, it is a commitment to the living natural and cultural heritage of the Himalayas.
The author is an Independent Researcher and Consultant at WWF- India.
Also Read: How diplomatic tensions hit Northern Bengal tourism and medical services