This story is for those who believe.

This Durga Puja, we took a few days off to spend time at an off-the-grid lodge in the Corbett Tiger Reserve.

Getting there is an adventure in itself. Park your vehicle, cross a suspension bridge, walk 1.5 km along a forest track, hop into a good ol’ Willy’s jeep for a 2 km drive, and finally cross the Ramganga river on a raft.

Low footprint. No noise. Just a kind of calm where you can hear your own heartbeat.

Once at the lodge, the only way around is on foot. You walk through the famed Corbett grasslands and dense forests, from one village to another.

The trails are narrow and steep. One wrong step, and you could find yourself hurtling down towards the rocky Ramganga. There is little room for error.

On the morning of Ashtami-Navami, Monday, we set out a little after 6 am. Three and a half hours later, having walked one of the toughest trails of our lives — one also used by elephants, tigers and other wild creatures — we sat down for a leisurely breakfast by the Ramganga.

The lodge was just another 30 minutes away.

But there was a catch.

All through our descent, we had come across broken twigs and elephant dung. This is their territory, after all.

After an hour of resting our tired limbs, we set off towards the lodge through the grasslands. Two of our guides stayed close to the riverbank and spotted a herd of elephants about a kilometre away. One of them had its trunk dipped in the water.

The elephants had sensed our presence. Then came a grunt from the bull.

A warning call.

We stopped in our tracks and immediately turned back.

And just like that, our easy 30-minute walk became a two-and-a-half-hour detour. The direct route was blocked by the herd. Our only option was to climb back up the trail to the village and then follow the village road to the suspension bridge over the Ramganga.

A walk like this through a forest tests more than your physical endurance. It tests your mind, too. Finding the mental stamina to turn around, climb back up and begin all over again was perhaps the hardest part.

We started climbing, hoping there would be no more surprises.

But the forest had one more in store for us.

After a steep hike, we reached the village temple.

The time was 11:16 am.

The exact time Sandhi Puja — the sacred transition between Ashtami and Navami — was to conclude that morning, according to the ritual calendar.

We offered our prayers, sat in the shade of a tree, and looked at each other, bemused.

We had escaped the city to be one with nature.

But the pujo had not escaped us.

Some things, it seems, find a way of finding you.