Published on 02 Sep 2025 | 8 mins read
Beyond its vibrant beaches, bustling casinos, and lively parties, Goa also has a lesser-known yet equally captivating side: the calm and serene Goa, deeply intertwined with nature. Here, happiness isn't luxury but the contentment found in simple things, from baking traditional poees to experiencing the soaking rains with childlike glee. It's the joy of a daytime glass of feni, or beer, or something even stronger, not to escape reality, but to simply unwind and savor life.
Much like us, Goa too experiences a renewed energy with the monsoon's arrival. The drenching rains unveil a tranquil and remarkably quiet landscape, all fresh and green. The time when beach shacks undergo maintenance, leaving the shore to yourself. When you don’t have to worry about the perfect beach look, but can just embrace the light drizzle, solitude, and the majestic sea’s roar soothing your soul. For once, when you would truly live for your own.
As human activity subsides, other species begin to emerge. Yes, the wild ones. And just like that, the trending activities shift dramatically from clubbing and partying to nature-centric pursuits like herping and hiking.
Trip to Goan monsoon
To experience this magical side, we planned a monsoon trip! We flew to Goa and stayed at Panjim for the night, trying our luck at capturing the blue, sparkling sea at Belalbatim Beach. Unfortunately, we weren’t very lucky. Still being optimistic about the rest of the trip, we retired for the day.
The next day, we headed for the national park side of Goa (towards Dudhsagar). It was pure joy riding along the buttery smooth national highway, flanked by greenery. As we glided past the vibrant jungles, the dings of the passing church bells filled our hearts. Navigating through groves of coconut and banana farms, we finally reached the farm stay, Indira Farms, a homestay nestled amidst lush green lands and mountains. The house was deep inside these farms, far from the city's chaos—a beautiful blend of modern and ethnic architecture, complete with a pristine pool. Bird chirps and nature’s pure sounds filled the air here.
After a brief rest, we headed towards the most anticipated part of our trip: the glowing forest. It hadn't rained for a few days, which made us a little anxious about spotting the bioluminescent algae, which are brightest during the wettest conditions. Nevertheless, filled with excitement and hoping for the best, we pressed on.
Whispers of the wild: Jungle’s mysterious creatures and the vibrant life
We arrived at a spot near Mollem National Park. The road ahead wound deeper into the jungle; we followed it until our guide, Kuldip, instructed us to park. We were a group of five, my partner Nikhil and I, another couple (Vidhant and Ria), and Kuldip. It was around 6:00-6:30 PM. The sun was almost setting, but we needed more darkness for the fungi, so we were offered an unexpected detour.
"Vipers dekhne chalna hai?" (Do you want to go see Vipers?) he asked. It instantly lit up Vidhant’s face. "Vipers? Yaha hai?" (It’s here?) he exclaimed. Meanwhile, I, terrified of reptiles, silently wondered, "I did not sign up for this. Vipers??" Quickly scanning everyone's feet, I noticed none of us four had appropriate footwear. And Kuldip? He was in f***ing gumboots! Clearly, he wasn't worried about being bitten by one. Additionally, he was a zoology student, so he obviously knew his subjects well.
"Chalo" (let’s go) he said. Though scared, I felt the wild calling me. There could have been hundreds of species hidden within those secluded jungles; how could I miss the opportunity to witness nature from such close quarters? We were truly in its lap, disconnected from the world. Our phones were now mere cameras. With a mix of trepidation and excitement, we followed him into the jungle.
As we walked in, we encountered a small pond. Kuldip mentioned a pair of snakes lived there. We waited patiently and soon spotted one gliding swiftly across the darkening water. As the daylight faded, the sounds of insects grew louder; we could easily distinguish 20-30 different species at once, including a few bird calls. Among them, the distinctive croak of a green tree frog sounded nearby. As we switched on our phone flashes, there it was: a vibrant, leafy green frog, straight out of a cartoon, perfectly camouflaged among the fresh monsoon leaves of the tree. While Kuldip explained how to identify their gender, we realized there were three more on that same tree!
The sizzling snake
After observing a series of toads and frogs, we finally reached the plateau: a flat expanse dotted with many rocks. Kuldip instructed us to be extremely silent and mindful of our steps. “There are many here,” he whispered, pointing towards a large rock. “They usually show themselves, but sometimes you might not see one even after spending an hour. They typically hide beneath these large rocks.”
As we stood there, Kuldip casually dropped a bombshell: “This species is among the big four snakes in India,” he said.
“Big Four?” I asked aghast.
“Yes, it's extremely venomous and among the top four snakes in India causing deaths.”
And I thought, “You're telling us this now? That we've come looking for one of the deadliest snakes in their own habitat, in mere rain shoes?”
Confident, he reassured us, “Kuch nai hoga, bas mere peeche raho (Nothing will happen, just stay behind me) and be careful of your steps.”
With no other choice, I followed; I needed him to even go back! With the sun completely set, we had our phone torches on, scanning the ground. Kuldip carefully lifted a few rocks to check underneath, and always put them back as if undisturbed.
And in the process, we found one! Perfectly camouflaged with the brown ground, I couldn't even see it at all until Kuldip pointed out its head. It was surprisingly small; no longer than a typical ruler. I asked if it was a baby. He confirmed this was the species' full size.
The snake was alert. It held its head still, as if frozen by some spell, and coiled its body like a belly dancer, making a distinctive sizzling sound. The sound made by rubbing its scales justifies its name: the saw-scaled viper. They make this sound when threatened, serving as a warning before a remarkably swift attack. We remained still, and it eventually retreated back under the rock from where it came.
A while later, as we were leaving, Ria heard the sizzle again. She turned, and there it was! Another viper lay coiled right behind us. We swiftly moved out of its strike range, and this time, we got a better look. It gave us a bit more time and even posed for photographs. After a brief encounter, this one too, found shelter under a rock. These creatures fear us as much as we fear them and won’t harm, unless provoked.
Leaving the plateau, we were captivated by the dancing lights of a bunch of fireflies. Though most were gone due to the monsoon, a good handful of these jugnus (fireflies) bounced and flickered, beckoning us. We followed their lights, finding more of them. But then, it was finally time to find the elusive bioluminescent fungi.
The Pandora’s box, but delightful
As we emerged from the plateau, we were greeted by an amusing array of wildlife. We saw everything from vibrant colourful crabs (pink, purple, and red) playing hide-and-seek at tree bases to spittlebugs (bubble bugs) protecting themselves under foamy bubbles. We encountered a few exotic spiders, some known for their striking bodies, others for their intricate webs. We even spotted scorpions, though without a UV light, we couldn't see their characteristic glow. We also identified a unique creature, neither a spider nor a scorpion, yet with features of both: the tailless scorpion, or whip spider.
The forest exploration also revealed beautiful orchids and various mushrooms: oyster, cup-shaped fungi, and even some releasing spores. In the darkness, under the torch beam at just the right angle, we watched the spores disperse, it was nothing short of an animated movie.
Kuldip then pointed to tree bark bearing white, flaky traces, asking, “Do you know what this is?” As we were clueless, he explained: lichen! Lichens (a mix of fungus and algae) are the perfect example of symbiosis, where the fungus provides the structure and the algae ‘cooks’ for them. This took me straight back to school biology classes; I never imagined hearing about this relationship again outside school one day. It was fascinating to see so many species, each with its own defence and survival techniques, in a world so foreign to us.
Hide and seek of the Jungle
As we continued our hike towards the fungi, we suddenly got distracted by the whistle of a slender loris. This nocturnal animal, with glowing eyes and perfect night vision, beckoned Kuldip. He followed its call, leading us off the main path into a seldom-trodden jungle patch. While we did catch a fleeting glimpse of the loris, it was too quick for any photography.
The jungle was alive with sounds, resembling nature's own "fish market": hoots of owls, screeches of bats, buzzing of insects. As Kuldip chased the loris further, we found ourselves stranded in pitch darkness. After navigating knee-high grasses, layers of fallen leaves, slippery puddles, all interspersed with fallen trees and dense shrubs, we realized we couldn't go any deeper and had to wait.
That’s when one of us spotted a twig glowing faintly on the ground. Bioluminescence! But it was just a twig; we yearned to see trees glowing. As we turned back to the main trail, Nikhil spotted a hump-nosed viper coiled up right behind us. It was similar in size to the saw-scaled viper we had seen earlier, while not fatally venomous, it still was a threat. A slight misstep, and one of us could have squashed it. After a brief panic, we quickly moved aside. By then, Kuldip had returned. The snake, clearly threatened, held its head high, almost ready to strike. Though unknowingly, we had provoked it enough. Still, instead of fleeing, we decided to risk another photoshoot, this time from a side view to stay out of its strike zone.
Alas the glowing fungi! The Bioluminescence!
Returning to the main path, Kuldip guided us to the specific area where the fungi grew. Since it hadn’t rained in days, chances were slim, but we remained hopeful. We meticulously checked every potential pocket where he had last seen them, until we reached the ultimate spot.
There they were: logs of dead trees glowing in the dark with a distinct white fluorescent light. Only after gazing intently for a while, could we notice a subtle green hue. With all our torches off, deep in the jungle, we found ourselves mesmerized by these enigmatic organisms. Even the moonlight felt intrusive. We just stood there, spellbound by its beauty.
The scene was still undeniably straight out of a Disney movie, making the entire jungle feel like a different world, perhaps life in some other parallel universe. Naturally, we couldn't leave without trying to capture the moment, but the camera failed. The photos showed a harsh fluorescent green instead of the subtle whitish glow that we saw. After many attempts, we managed a few decent shots.
Stepping out of that ethereal space, it took us a while to fully absorb the experience and re-acclimate to the life outside. Then, when we checked our phones, (which had just regained some network) we saw twelve missed calls! And we were instantly yanked back to the reality of busy city life.
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