Rare & Endangered Animals You Can Still See in Indian Forests
Ritika | Sep 25, 2025, 20:01 IST
Leopard
( Image credit : Pixabay )
Highlight of the story: The Indian terrain has numerous rare and endangered species that may never be seen by the world again, but still tread the Indian ground. They are hardly seen, but even with their lack of frequent show, they exist and add color to our fauna diversity. Here are some of the following animals you never knew existed.
Walk into an Indian forest, and it is never trees or streams. There's something more, something alive, delicate, and vanishing softly from the world. Beings older than human memory still exist here, tucked away in shadow or canopy. They are not lines in a textbook or fleeting references in documentaries. They breathe. They live. They matter.
From Himalayan craggy cliffs to desert plains of gold, from mangroves thick to rainforests dripping, these creatures survive, unobserved. Most believe they're extinct for good. They're not. And when one does show up, during a peaceful forest walk, on the border of a marsh, or on a solitary trail, the experience is like laying hands on a shard of the past. Uncommon. Brief. Beyond replacement.
Way up where trees thin and the air is thin, stalks the snow leopard like a ghost. Locals know it as the "ghost of the mountains." And it is, silent, unseen, flawless against stone and snow. Days of hunting may only result in vague paw prints or a fuzzy camera trap photo.
It has a thick coat, tail long and flowing, flawless against icy blasts. Blue sheep, ibex, small mammals they are its quarry, maintaining the Himalayan environment in sensitive balance. Villagers catch a glimpse of a shadow on a ridge every now and then. It disappears before you can catch more than a glimpse. Awe. Fear. Wonder. That's what the air is charged with. Conservation efforts, such as the Snow Leopard Project, have converted villagers to guardians, not predators. And whoever has caught sight of it knows, this is no animal. It's a mountain legend revealing itself for an instant moment.
If deserts were ever to have guardians, they would be the Great Indian Bustard. A tall, unflinching bird, white underside glistening in sunlight, once walked free over Rajasthan, Gujarat, Maharashtra. Now, fewer than 200 do. Power wires stretch across the landscape, grasslands disappear under towns, and old scars from hunting remain.
However, in Rajasthan's Desert National Park, the bird still ambles. Serene. Erect. Leisurely. It does not vanish. To residents, it is not a bird. It is the desert, personified. To see one now is to encounter a relic. Alive. Tenacious. Rebel.
In rain-soaked Western Ghats, another world swings through the canopy, the lion-tailed macaque. Slight, agile, a silvery mane around its small face, a brush-like tufted tail. It shuns human presence, in contrast to boisterous urban relatives, gliding noiselessly from branch to branch.
This macaque is not just a climber, it's a gardener. Seeds it disperses keep the forest green. But plantations, roads, and dams broke up their home. Once, the forest was one; now it's in fragments. Yet Silent Valley and Anamalai Tiger Reserve preserve pockets of them. Calls ring through trees, nearly a protest: "The forest is alive, but it needs space to thrive."
Deep in Sikkim, Arunachal, North Bengal, there is a beast almost mythical hidden in the forest. The red panda, reddish-brown coat, ringed tail, soft, mild eyes, glides silently through oaks and rhododendrons.
Primarily nocturnal, it consumes bamboo and berries, wrapping its tail around itself for heat. Restless, reclusive. Poaching, dwindling forests, they've brought it to the brink. But Khangchendzonga and Singalila still provide it refuge. To sight one is dreamlike, a beast that appears plucked from myth, living tenaciously in the contemporary world.
All rare animals do not reside in hills or forests. Some of them have their habitats in water, marshes, mangroves, riverbanks. The fishing cat, larger than a house cat, leopard-spotted like a miniature, survives here. Webbed feet slide into reeds, plunge into water after fish, creep up on frogs.
Wetlands are disappearing. Drained. Replaced by concrete. Poisoned. And as wetlands vanish, vanishes the fishing cat. Sundarbans, Odisha marshes, Assam riverbanks, here it endures. Watching one slip into water at sundown is like watching the wetland itself breathe.
Few creatures appear stranger, more anachronistic than the pangolin. Sheathed in keratin scales, dinosaurian in appearance. Solitary, nocturnal, eating ants and termites, scooping them up with a long tongue.
Indian and Chinese pangolins are here, but both are under attack. Smuggled for scales, poached illegally. The conservationists of Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra, northeast India, struggle to protect them. Most never lay eyes on one. But to know somewhere in the forest a pangolin rolls into its ball is reassurance enough: not all is lost.
Lions are Africa's emblem, but India has one of its own. Shorter, smaller-maned, Asiatic lions used to range from Greece to Bihar. Now, only in the Gir Forest of Gujarat.
In contrast to solitary tigers, they reside in prides. Gir has preserved them. There are still tourists who observe them sleeping in the shade, padding along trails, stalking across grass. Conservation achievement, yes, but precarious. One illness, one drought, and decades of effort could turn it all around. Their roar remains to be heard, but as a warning: survival is never assured.
India's mountains, deserts, marshes, and forests still harbor animals much of the globe has already lost. Snow leopard on a ridge. Bustard strolling through scrubland. Macaque swinging through monsoon forest. Red panda curled up in a tree. Not mere sightings, they are history come alive, before the eyes of human beings.
Each one counts. Fishing cats sustain wetlands. Pangolins regulate insects. Asiatic lions influence Gir's equilibrium. They are not decorations, they are strands of nature's web. Pull one out, and the entire frays.
To witness them is privilege. To safeguard them is obligation. Their existence relies not only on forests, but decisions far beyond them, in towns, villages, policies, and lives. These vanishing creatures still exist. Whether they will tomorrow, though, is our choice.
Explore the latest trends and tips in Health & Fitness, Spiritual, Travel, Life Hacks, Trending, Fashion & Beauty, and Relationships at Times Life!
From Himalayan craggy cliffs to desert plains of gold, from mangroves thick to rainforests dripping, these creatures survive, unobserved. Most believe they're extinct for good. They're not. And when one does show up, during a peaceful forest walk, on the border of a marsh, or on a solitary trail, the experience is like laying hands on a shard of the past. Uncommon. Brief. Beyond replacement.
The Snow Leopard
Snow leopard
( Image credit : Pixabay )
Way up where trees thin and the air is thin, stalks the snow leopard like a ghost. Locals know it as the "ghost of the mountains." And it is, silent, unseen, flawless against stone and snow. Days of hunting may only result in vague paw prints or a fuzzy camera trap photo.
It has a thick coat, tail long and flowing, flawless against icy blasts. Blue sheep, ibex, small mammals they are its quarry, maintaining the Himalayan environment in sensitive balance. Villagers catch a glimpse of a shadow on a ridge every now and then. It disappears before you can catch more than a glimpse. Awe. Fear. Wonder. That's what the air is charged with. Conservation efforts, such as the Snow Leopard Project, have converted villagers to guardians, not predators. And whoever has caught sight of it knows, this is no animal. It's a mountain legend revealing itself for an instant moment.
The Great Indian Bustard
Bustard
( Image credit : Pixabay )
If deserts were ever to have guardians, they would be the Great Indian Bustard. A tall, unflinching bird, white underside glistening in sunlight, once walked free over Rajasthan, Gujarat, Maharashtra. Now, fewer than 200 do. Power wires stretch across the landscape, grasslands disappear under towns, and old scars from hunting remain.
However, in Rajasthan's Desert National Park, the bird still ambles. Serene. Erect. Leisurely. It does not vanish. To residents, it is not a bird. It is the desert, personified. To see one now is to encounter a relic. Alive. Tenacious. Rebel.
The Lion-Tailed Macaque
Lion tailed macaque
( Image credit : Pixabay )
In rain-soaked Western Ghats, another world swings through the canopy, the lion-tailed macaque. Slight, agile, a silvery mane around its small face, a brush-like tufted tail. It shuns human presence, in contrast to boisterous urban relatives, gliding noiselessly from branch to branch.
This macaque is not just a climber, it's a gardener. Seeds it disperses keep the forest green. But plantations, roads, and dams broke up their home. Once, the forest was one; now it's in fragments. Yet Silent Valley and Anamalai Tiger Reserve preserve pockets of them. Calls ring through trees, nearly a protest: "The forest is alive, but it needs space to thrive."
The Red Panda
Red panda
( Image credit : Pixabay )
Deep in Sikkim, Arunachal, North Bengal, there is a beast almost mythical hidden in the forest. The red panda, reddish-brown coat, ringed tail, soft, mild eyes, glides silently through oaks and rhododendrons.
Primarily nocturnal, it consumes bamboo and berries, wrapping its tail around itself for heat. Restless, reclusive. Poaching, dwindling forests, they've brought it to the brink. But Khangchendzonga and Singalila still provide it refuge. To sight one is dreamlike, a beast that appears plucked from myth, living tenaciously in the contemporary world.
The Fishing Cat
Fishing cat
( Image credit : Pixabay )
All rare animals do not reside in hills or forests. Some of them have their habitats in water, marshes, mangroves, riverbanks. The fishing cat, larger than a house cat, leopard-spotted like a miniature, survives here. Webbed feet slide into reeds, plunge into water after fish, creep up on frogs.
Wetlands are disappearing. Drained. Replaced by concrete. Poisoned. And as wetlands vanish, vanishes the fishing cat. Sundarbans, Odisha marshes, Assam riverbanks, here it endures. Watching one slip into water at sundown is like watching the wetland itself breathe.
The Pangolin
Pangolin
( Image credit : Pixabay )
Few creatures appear stranger, more anachronistic than the pangolin. Sheathed in keratin scales, dinosaurian in appearance. Solitary, nocturnal, eating ants and termites, scooping them up with a long tongue.
Indian and Chinese pangolins are here, but both are under attack. Smuggled for scales, poached illegally. The conservationists of Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra, northeast India, struggle to protect them. Most never lay eyes on one. But to know somewhere in the forest a pangolin rolls into its ball is reassurance enough: not all is lost.
The Asiatic Lion
Asiatic lion
( Image credit : Pixabay )
Lions are Africa's emblem, but India has one of its own. Shorter, smaller-maned, Asiatic lions used to range from Greece to Bihar. Now, only in the Gir Forest of Gujarat.
In contrast to solitary tigers, they reside in prides. Gir has preserved them. There are still tourists who observe them sleeping in the shade, padding along trails, stalking across grass. Conservation achievement, yes, but precarious. One illness, one drought, and decades of effort could turn it all around. Their roar remains to be heard, but as a warning: survival is never assured.
The Rare Sights
Each one counts. Fishing cats sustain wetlands. Pangolins regulate insects. Asiatic lions influence Gir's equilibrium. They are not decorations, they are strands of nature's web. Pull one out, and the entire frays.
To witness them is privilege. To safeguard them is obligation. Their existence relies not only on forests, but decisions far beyond them, in towns, villages, policies, and lives. These vanishing creatures still exist. Whether they will tomorrow, though, is our choice.
Explore the latest trends and tips in Health & Fitness, Spiritual, Travel, Life Hacks, Trending, Fashion & Beauty, and Relationships at Times Life!