The wild within: A slow weekend at Aahana Resort in Jim Corbett

There’s a special kind of hush that only the forest can offer. Not the quiet of absence, but the fullness of sound, birds weaving through branches, the wind skipping over tall grass, the distant call of something wild. I found myself inside that hush one weekend at Aahana, a lush resort that feels less like a getaway and more like a gentle pause from everything else.

From the moment I stepped onto the property, something shifted. Maybe it was the stillness, or the way the air felt cleaner, thicker with trees. Maybe it was the warm, unscripted welcome or the green views that stretched in every direction. Even the check-in felt unhurried, like the resort was already nudging me into a slower rhythm.

My room, one of Aahana’s villa-style suites, was nestled into foliage, with a verandah that opened to birdsong and a patchwork of native plants. The interiors struck a balance between rustic charm and modern comfort, dressed in earthy tones and polished wood. It was the kind of space that makes you instinctively kick off your shoes and exhale.

Lunch arrived as a kind of quiet ritual. Aahana’s kitchen leans into wellness without being preachy, organic ingredients, many grown on-site or sourced from local farms, cooked with care. Every meal was a celebration of the familiar: warm rotis, subtly spiced vegetables, daals with depth, and always a touch of something sweet to finish.

Later that afternoon, I joined one of the resort’s signature nature walks, led by their in-house naturalist. It wasn’t a dramatic jungle trek, but more of a slow, observant wander along the buffer zone of the Corbett Tiger Reserve. We learnt to read tracks in the dirt, spotted deer grazing in the distance, and watched langurs leap gracefully through the treetops. The guide peppered the walk with stories, about migratory birds, flowering cycles, animal corridors, each one making the landscape feel a little more alive, a little more sacred.

One morning, before the sky had fully turned from indigo to blue, I headed out for a jeep safari into the core zone of Corbett. The forest was wrapped in mist, the trees stretching up like cathedral columns, and every turn of the trail felt heavy with potential. No tiger made an appearance, but I didn’t mind. The anticipation alone was electric, listening to the alarm calls, scanning for movement, feeling the stillness shift. Sometimes the forest gives you a story. Sometimes it gives you silence.

Back at the resort, the hours unfolded softly. I wandered the gardens, lounged under a neem tree, and read without checking the time. Aahana has a way of offering options without pressure: early morning yoga, guided cycling trails, birdwatching sessions, even an organic farm to explore. But the real luxury here is the permission to do nothing.

On my last morning, I sat with a cup of lemongrass tea and watched the sky change over the treetops: no alarms, no plans, just the slow reveal of another perfect day. As I checked out, the staff handed me a small potted plant, a symbolic gift and a gentle reminder: take this peace with you, but remember where to return when you need more.

Aahana isn’t about escapism, it’s about return. To nature, to slowness, to the wild within.