Aman-i-Khas to Amanbag: The Wild Wonders Of Rajasthan In The Lap Of Luxury

It felt like a communion with nature when I walked into my white tent at Aman-i-Khas in Ranthambore’s lap. Outside, a few metres away, a sambar deer ate the fresh leaves on a low branch without paying heed to my presence. I remained as quiet as I could.

It is not a hotel, neither can it be called one — because it exists in the spaces between permanence and impermanence, between luxury and rawness, where the very act of staying feels like participating in something ancient and utterly alive.

Aman-i-Khas: Paradox of Temporary Grandeur

Mughal-white canvas billows against Rajasthani skies, but only for eight months of the year. Come monsoon, every tent vanishes—dismantled, stored, and giving itself back to the land. There’s something profoundly moving about choosing temporary over eternal; about a luxury that knows when to retreat. The tents themselves are reborn every three years—their canvas finding new life as bags in souvenir shops, as tote bags hanging in future guests’ closets. It’s a beautiful circle of conscious impermanence.

Walking into my tent felt like entering a carefully orchestrated contradiction. An automated toilet seat gleamed behind subtle curtains while rustic leather seating, that looked like it belonged in a royal hunting lodge, adorned the living space. Central air conditioning hummed quietly; yet every night, the Ranthambore wind would set the canvas walls dancing, reminding you that you’re merely a guest in an environment that encompasses much more than yourself. This is Aman-i-Khas declaring its philosophy without words. The wild corridor exists first; human comfort is secondary, woven carefully around the needs of creatures who call this place home.

The moment I arrived, flower petals cascaded over my head in greeting. Warm smiles and polite conversations ensued with Kishan Singh Shekhawat, the General Manager and custodian of this Aman camp since 2003.

“We believe in our every action that this is not a hotel. It is a camp, much like the ones that travelled with kings when they went hunting or to war”, he asserts.

My “Batman”—yes, that’s what they call the personal butlers here, a nod to the Mughal tradition of royal hunting attendants—moved with the quiet efficiency of someone who understands that true luxury is invisible service. He appeared when needed, vanished when not, like a guardian spirit of comfort. Kuldeep, who I called KD afterwards, brought not only the familiarity of bespoke hospitality, but also deep knowledge about the place and its inhabitants.

Sensory Immersion, Not Overload

The evening surrounded us quietly, while Shekhawat told me stories of commitment. He talked of the gardener, who after giving the property more than 20 years of his dedication, was recently recognised at an award ceremony for hoteliers in India. His eyes glistened as he recollected the joyous pride. He spoke of the many changes that have been done since the beginning to make the property self-sustaining. More than 65 per cent of the power requirement is catered in-house. He spoke of how birds drink from the non-chemified pool and create noisy chatter outside breakfast tents with their songs of morning; how a banyan tree has lived there, spreading its arms for decades since they planted it; and how the forest around grows, and animals visit the Khus, a local name for a wild waterbody. It all sounded fascinating, surely. As the local musicians took their place by the bonfire and broke the silence, his stories started becoming visible with each lamp that was being lit before me.

The stepwell-inspired pool, carved into the earth and embraced by trees, felt less like a resort amenity and more like discovering a hidden oasis. Everything here follows the principle of integration, not imposition. The library tent became my evening refuge, the spa tent for late morning massages. Each space distinct yet connected, like rooms in a palace made of landscape rather than walls. Such is the delight of conscious luxury, and as Shekhawat says, “Indian guests are starting to recognise the ‘less is more’ order of things here.”

Meals transcended menus entirely. The kitchen, fed by their expansive farm, crafted dishes from ingredients harvested that morning. From Laal Maas to Coconut Shrimp Pulao, the menu itself acts as a directive, but not restrictive in any way. When I mentioned craving something specific, it appeared in the next meal—not because I was being indulged, but because the connection between land, kitchen, and guest runs that deep. Cocktails appeared with local infusions, in colours no less brighter than the birds who gave us company.

I took a walk to the Khus one afternoon, only to find a Sambar deer bat his ears and look at me with great surprise, but calmly. Sitting there for hours on a camp chair with my binoculars yielded some incredible bird watching moments. Next, the workshop became my unexpected obsession. Carving wood with my own hands, sewing canvas scraps into something meaningful, making candles that would later light my tent—these inevitably establishes a smooth connection with the accommodation itself and to materials; to the process and to the understanding that luxury can be participatory rather than passive.

Everything operates on its own sustainable loop at Aman-i-Khas—solar panels catching the sun, the sewage treatment plant returning clean water to the earth, the farm feeding the kitchen feeding the guests feeding back into the cycle of conscious living. Even the toiletries are stored in metal containers that are refilled when emptied. The hotel also encourages guests to adopt a part of this lifestyle by placing these containers in the souvenir shop, alongside expensive designer but cotton clothing.

Gypsy’s Palace for the Soul

Aman-i-Khas feels like stumbling upon a caravan of philosopher-kings who’ve paused their eternal journey just long enough for you to join them. It is glamping elevated to an art form; luxury stripped of ostentation and rebuilt around wonder. It is the closest accommodation to Ranthambore’s heart, both geographically and spiritually.

Long after the canvas walls stop swaying in your memory, the understanding remains—sometimes the most profound luxury is knowing when to leave no trace, when to let the wild write its own story, and when to be grateful for even a temporary invitation to witness it. Some experiences exist beyond measurement; this was one such.

Amanbagh: Where Tradition Meets Tranquility

Another jewel in Aman’s India offering is Amanbagh, a luxury retreat that embodies the philosophy of immersive wellness experiences rooted in local culture in Ajabgarh, near Sariska Tiger Reserve. Its palatial architecture, inspired by Mughal aesthetics, transports guests to an era of regal splendour. Yet, its true distinction lies in its commitment to holistic well-being.

“For over three decades, Aman has been synonymous with peaceful and transformative retreats,” explains Harry Fernandes, General Manager, Amanbagh. “Our Ayurvedic cuisine, prepared with ingredients from our organic gardens, is a testament to our belief in healthful living. Guests can also engage in guided wellness programs, spa therapies, and cultural interactions that offer a deeper connection to Rajasthan’s heritage.”

Amanbagh’s 1.5-hectare herbal garden offers the opportunity to learn about the fascinating world of these plants and their many uses in Ayurveda. Sourcing ingredients from the resort’s own organic garden, Amanbagh celebrates the rich flavours of North India and the health-giving properties of Ayurvedic cuisine. The resort’s garden is home to over 300 different species of herbs which are incorporated into both its menu as well as the Ayurveda treatments and tonics prescribed at the resort’s spa. Using local recipes passed down through the generations, the resort’s multiple restaurants—open to guests and non-residents—also offer a range of international dishes tailored to individual tastes.

Amanbagh’s sustainability efforts further enhance its appeal. The resort not only sources 80 per cent of its kitchen needs from its organic farm but also actively supports local education and community development initiatives, same as their sister property in Ranthambore.