Savitri

 II

The Legend

 In the Mahabharata, the Savitri story is told in the course of seven cantos (291 to 297 in the Vana Parva). Aswapati, the King of the Madra, is pious, virtuous, high-souled, a good giver, the protector of his people, and therefore the well-beloved. But he is sorrow-stricken, being old and childless. For eighteen years he undergoes austerities, daily offering a hundred thousand oblations to the fire to the accompaniment of mantras in honour of the Goddess Savitri, who appears at last in her resplendent form and promises that a daughter of great beauty [kanyā tejasvinī) will be soon born to him.

      Returning to his duties as a king, he lives as righteously as before, and his eldest wife bears in due course a daughter, who, being the gift of the Goddess Savitri, is also now named Savitri. She grows in beauty worthy of a goddess, and the child becomes a maiden; but her eyes are like lotus-pools, incandescent in their splendour, and hold at a distance all would-be suitors. On a certain auspicious day, having fasted and taken her bath and offered prayers to the gods, Savitri approaches her father, touches his feet in reverence, offers flowers, and stands silent and expectant by his side.³ Her god-like bloom of beauty (deva-rūpinīm) takes away his breath, yet saddens him, for none asks him for her hand. He tells her simply: "Seek a husband and choose for yourself". There is no bandying of idle words, and Savitri starts on her quest accompanied by wise and elderly counsellors.

      When the rishi continues the tale in the next canto, there is a leap over time, a break in the sequence and we find Aswapati seated with Sage Narad engaged in conversation; and now Savitri, having visited all ashrams and holy bathing places, returns to her father's court with

Page 241

her counsellors, and pays her respects to the sage and the king. Is she not married yet, asks Narad, and Aswapati, in answer, directs Savitri to speak. She first describes the misfortunes of Dyumatsena, the Shalwa King, who had lost his sight in old age, and so lost his kingdom as well, for it was seized by an enemy neighbour; Dyumatsena had been thus driven to take refuge in the forest with his wife and infant son. Savitri concludes by saying that this son, Satyavan, born in the city but grown to manhood in the ashram (tapovana), is alone worthy to be her lord and husband.

      Narad, taken aback, describes the choice as a great wrong {mahat pāpam), but also refers to Satyavan in eulogistic terms; he is verily what his name implies, the truthful; handsome as great Vivasvan, Brihaspati's compeer in his mind, Indra's equal in prowess, long suffering as the Earth (Vasudeva); generous in giving, respectful to teachers, noble as Yayati, fair as the moon; another Asvin in form and dignity of bearing; gentle, self-controlled, steadfast, modest, free from envy, and entirely righteous. Pressed by Aswapati to name Satyavan's faults (dosān), if any, Narad answers succinctly: "One fault, and one only; his race run, Satyavan will die a year hence."

      The king is shocked, and urges Savitri to choose again, but she answers with firm resolve: "There are things that are done but once; be he long-lived or short-lived, be he endowed with or bereft of virtues, I have chosen, and cannot choose again; seized by the mind, presented in speech, it remains only to be translated into deed." It is one of the supremely incandescent utterances of all time. Narad, the divine sage, is himself overpowered by her defiant resolution, and promptly advises the king to act according to Savitri's desires. All shall be well yet. The king proceeds with the preparations for his daughter's marriage.

      After the tense drama of the second canto, the third is on a more subdued key. The king completes the wedding preparations and taking his daughter, the priests and others with him, he sets out on an auspicious day for Dyumatsena's ashram. After fraternal exchanges, Aswapati explains the object of his visit and requests the

Page 242

hermit-king to accept Savitri as his daughter-in-law. Dyumatsena wonders whether Aswapati's daughter, used to comfort, will be able to put up with the rigours of ashram life in a forest, but Aswapati reassures him and importunes him to accept Savitri as Satyavan's wife. Forest life can have no terrors for Savitri, because she knows full well that happiness and misery are impermanent. Dyumatsena now reveals that he had himself desired this alliance, although, because of his circumstances, he had not moved in the matter. The marriage is now performed, and leaving with Savitri a worthy retinue, Aswapati returns to his homeland.

      Satyavan and Savitri are mutually happy in having secured their heart's desire. She now puts by all her ornaments and rich clothes, and lives the bare pure life of a dedicated hermitress. Her many virtues, her serviceable acts and her gentle subdued behaviour please one and all. She ministers to her mother-in-law's wants, and wins her affection; with her restrained speech and worshipful aspect, she wins her father-in-law's delighted approbation. She wins her husband's entire trust and affection with her honied words, her skill in works, her modesty, and her loving ministrations in private. Yet, as time passes by, day and night Savitri keeps in mind the fateful word spoken by Narad, and she can have no inner peace.

      In the fourth canto, the tale moves towards the preordained crisis foretold by Narad. When hardly four days are to go before the threatened danger to Satyavan's life, Savitri, still carrying in her sole bosom the burden of this fate, resolves to undertake the tri-rāttra vow, fasting, praying and standing night and day. She stills Dyumatsena's fears and anxieties on her behalf and assures him that she will be able to carry out her vow. When the third night of the vow spends itself out, Savitri reminds herself 'Today then is that day', pours a libation to the flaming fire, completes her morning rites, and bows down in due order before all the elders in the forest and receives their benediction that she may never suffer widowhood. Filled with the answering assent in her heart, she stands rapt in contemplation,

Page 243

poised on expectancy. Her parents-in-law now ask her to take food without further delay, but she says she will do so only at sundown.

      Just then Satyavan starts for the forest with his axe, and Savitri asks him to take her with him, as she cannot bear to be parted from him. As he remonstrates, she tells him that the fast hasn't exhausted her, and therefore he should not forbid her. He gives in, but asks her to take his parents' permission first. Savitri accordingly approaches them and says: "My husband is starting to go to the forest for the sake of his elders' sacrificial fire {agnihotra); I musn't therefore stand in his way. But let me go with him, for separation today is unbearable to me. Besides, for almost a year I haven't gone out, and I am eager to sec the blossoming woods." This being her first request to her parents-in-law, Dyumatsena gives her leave to go with Satyavan. And so, with apparent joy though with a heavy heart, Savitri accompanies Satyavan, admiring the multifoliate woods echoing with the peacock's cries. His gestures and sweet words of explanation receive all her attention, but as she remembers Narad's words, he strikes her as one already dead; vet she follows him close, although her heart is breaking under the strain, and she silently awaits the fated hour.

      Now opens the fifth canto. Satyavan first gathers fruits, then starts chopping wood; in the act of felling a branch, he suddenly perspires profusely, he is overcome by fatigue and his head begins to ache. He wearily comes to his beloved wife, who is intently observing him all the time, and confesses to a splitting headache and a desire to sleep. She makes him sit by her side, and lays his head on her lap. The very day, the very hour and minute foretold by Narad is upon her, she thinks. And already she sees before her a clear-skinned bright-robed figure, handsome and majestic, a diadem on his head, a noose in his hand; altogether terrifying is his aspect.

      She rises, having first gently shifted her husband's head to rest on the ground, and salutes him reverentially though with an agitated heart and asks this form divine what his business is. He is Yama, he says, and he has come to carry off Satyavan, as his days

Page 244

on earth are over; and he has come himself, as befitting so worthy and virtuous a person as Satyavan. So saying Yama draws forth from Satyavan's body his life {prana), which is the measure of a thumb, and so the body becomes untenanted, lustreless, inert and unsightly. As Yama now walks away in a southerly direction, Savitri too follows him, her heart overwhelmed by sorrow.

      Now begins the great debate between fixt fate and the power of Love, the law of adamantine Necessity and the variant play of Freedom; Yama at first asks Savitri to retrace her steps and perform her husband's funeral rites. She says that wherever her husband goes or is taken, there she must follow him; whatever the hazard. Having walked seven paces with Yama already, she can claim the privilege of friendly converse with him. Actually she seems to talk in conundrums. Of the four 'classic' stages of human life (vāsa or brahmacarya, dharma or grihastha; vānaprastha; and sannyāsa; that is, studentship, married life, hermit-life, and life as a wandering ascetic), Savitri and Satyavan have been living the second, which properly lived, can assurely lead to realisation as the others. Her whole point is that Yama, who is also Dharma, should permit Savitri and Satyavan to continue their dharma or grihastha mode of life and not separate them.⁴

      Yama is pleased, and asks her to choose a boon, only the life of Satyavan excepted. Savitri asks for the restoration of eyesight to her father-in-law, and this is granted. But she is not to be shaken off still, and she speaks insinuatingly to Yama, pleading and almost preaching. A second boon he grants, and a third; she desires that her father-in-law may regain his kingdom, and that her father, Aswapati, may have a hundred sons of his own. Pressed now to return, Savitri says again that her place is with her husband wherever he may be, and adds fair and flattering speech, which invokes the grant of a fourth boon. "May a hundred sons be born to me and Satyavan", she says naively, and Yama grants this boon as well and begs her to return.

      But she tarries still, and speaks more sweetly and wisely than ever before extolling the efficacy of the good and the righteous, so much so Yama concedes her a final incomparable boon. Savitri tells him simply

Page 245

that unless Satyavan's life is restored, the earlier boon of a hundred sons to them will be incapable of accomplishment; let Satyavan live again, for she cannot live without him. Yama is entangled in the web of his varied boons, and he realises that Savitri is right. He releases Satyavan's life, blesses her heartily, and disappears. Savitri, her love's labour won, returns to the place in the forest where she had earlier left her husband's listless body.

      Sitting once more on the ground, Savitri lifts Satyavan's head and places it on her lap. He regains consciousness, views her face with lingering affection like one just come home after a long sojourn abroad, and says; "I seem to have slept long, you should have awakened me; but where is that dark person that tried to take me away?" "A long time indeed you've slept, my lord", answers Savitri, "and Yama has departed, and all is well. The night is far gone, and you may rise if you are able." As they get up, he recapitulates aloud the happenings of the day—how he came with her to gather fruits, how he felt a pain in his head as he chopped wood, how unable to stand he slept on her lap, how in the darkness he saw the effulgent figure. What did it all mean? Has he been merely dreaming?

      But Savitri tells him that they should first return to the ashram, it being late already, and she will tell him everything in the morning. The fearful denizens of the jungle are abroad and are making fearful noises. Satyavan wonders whether, since all is utterly dark, they can find their way back to the hermitage. Savitri, however, sees a withered burnt tree still showing flickers of flame as the wind blows upon it— the aftermath of a forest conflagration; she will therefore light some faggots, and if Satyavan is still weak, they can spend the night in the forest, and when the woods are visible in the morning they can start for the hermitage. But Satyavan assures her he is all right now, and besides his parents would be anxious. He is their only crutch, and deprived of him they cannot live even an instant. Often in the past, in their excessive solicitude, they had chided him for being late in homecoming, however little he might have tarried. Surely they would

Page 246

be racked by anxiety today. His blind old father and his old distraught mother would be asking everybody about Satyavan. The thought of his parents' plight, the result of his own tardiness and untimely sleep, overpowers Satyavan, and he weeps bitterly.

      Savitri wipes away the tears from Satyavan's eyes, and articulates the prayer that her husband and her parents-in-law may come to no harm, and all may be well with them and prove auspicious to them; she has ever been truthful, compassionate and regular in her religious observances, and by the power of the truth of her life she wishes that all may be well. Satyavan is less self-possessed than Savitri, and is a prey to fears, and says he cannot live himself, should anything happen to his parents. But Savitri's head is as clear as her heart is whole. She hangs the pot of fruits from the branch of a tree, for it may be fetched later on, and she carries the axe herself; then with his arm on her left shoulder and her own right arm round his waist, giving him every support, she gently leads him on. Satyavan presently finds that his feet know the path very well by force of habit, and so they recognise landmarks like clusters of trees, and walk in rapid strides towards the hermitage.

      In canto six, we move to the hermitage. Yama's first boon has already brought about the restoration of Dyumatsena's eyesight. With his wife he searches for Satyavan in the hermitages, the rivers, the woods and the lakes; they are almost maniacal in their grief. The brahmins of the place now try to console them and reassure them, and bring them back to their own hermitage. But Dyumatsena and his wife recall Satyavan's childhood doings, and off and on piteous cries escape them regarding the fate of the young couple. One by one the elderly brahmins—Suvarchas, Gautama, Bharadvaja, Dalbhya, Mandavya, Dhaumya—tell the aged parents that since Savitri is chaste and well behaved, as she has completed her vow, as she has no marks that indicate possible widowhood, as Satyavan himself is rich in virtues and his strength of limbs indicates long life, and as, besides, all the omens are auspicious, there surely is no danger to Satyavan's life.

Page 247

      These words help to steady Dyumatsena's mind, and a little while hence, Savitri with her husband joins them, and there is general rejoicing. They all sit-down, and the forest-dwellers ask Satyavan out of curiosity how he happened to return so late, causing his parents so much anxiety. Satyavan truthfully refers to his headache while felling the branch of a tree, his deep sleep, and the consequent delay, but as this leaves unexplained Dyumatsena's regaining his eyesight, Gautama turns to Savitri and asks her to tell the truth if it can be told. Now Savtiri reveals all the circumstances—Narad's prophecy, her vow, her accompanying Satyavan to the woods, Yama's coming, her truthful speeches, the five boons, and the happy ending of it all. The ascetics praise her with one voice, take leave of Dyumatsena and Satyavan, and go to their respective abodes.

      The last canto is a brief one and may be called, after Thomas Hardy, 'aftercourses' or, more appropriately, 'fulfilment'. In the morning, even as the ascetics are talking to Dyumatsena about Savitri, there come to the hermitage the people of Shalwa with the news that the usurper has been slain by his minister, the troops have dispersed, and the people want their beloved king back in their midst. This is Yama's second boon fulfilling itself. The people are more delighted still when they find that their king has recovered his sight and is in magnificent health. Dyumatsena, his queen, his son and his daughter-in-law presently take leave of the ascetics and are taken in a chariot to his kingdom where he is anointed king again, and Satyavan becomes the heir apparent. The other boons too fulfil themselves: Aswapati becomes in due course the father of a hundred sons, and so are Satyavan and Savitri too blessed with progeny.

      Rishi Markhandeya concludes his narrative thus: 'Even thus did Savitri redeem from peril and raise to high fortune herself, her father and mother, her father-in-law and mother-in-law, as also the whole race of her husband (bharthuh kulam)'.

Page 248