On Savitri
THEME/S
R Y Deshpande
*********
The work being presented here had first appeared in Mother India, the monthly review of culture, Sri Aurobindo Ashram Pondicherry. We are thankful to its editor for serialising it in his periodical.
Our thanks are also due to M/S Amravan Group for the financial support to bring out this book.
************
King Aswapati's Receiving a Boon from Goddess Savitri, the Birth of a Daughter to him, Named Savitri, and her Sojourn in Different Countries in Search of a Husband.
Yudhishthira said:
Neither for myself, nor for my brothers, do I grieve, O great Sage; not even for being deprived of the kingdom, as much do I for the daughter of Drupada.
The evil-souled had put us to shame in the game of dice but she, the sister of Krishna, had come there to our rescue; and then again, in this forest, Jayadratha took her away forcefully.
Did you ever in the past meet, or did you hear of any woman, devoted to her husband and highly virtuous,
Page 1
such a one and in such a manner as the daughter of Drupada?
Markandeya said:
Listen, O King Yudhishthira, the most precious fortune, which the women of noble upbringing desire and cherish, that is what Princess Savitri won for them all.
Page 2
Long ago in Madra there reigned a saintly king, devout and a follower of the dharma; he lived in the pious company of the Brahmins and of the great virtuous, and he was united with the truth, and had conquered the senses.
Performer of Yajnas, presiding over charities, skilful in work, loved by the city-dwellers and by all the people of his kingdom, one who was absorbed in the welfare of everybody, there ruled the Sovereign of the Earth, named Aswapati.
Of a forgiving nature, one whose speech was truth, and who had subdued the senses, though he was so he had no issue; with the advancing of age this increased his affliction greatly.
Therefore he resorted, with the concern of getting a child, to holy austere practices; only at fixed times he' ate a little, and he observed continence, and restrained the senses fully.
Daily a hundred-thousand oblations he, the most excellent among the kings, offered to Savitri; and it was only in the sixth part of the day that he took a small quantity of food.
Eighteen years passed this way, he being given to observances of such rules of penance; at the end of' the eighteen-year period Savitri was much pleased with him.
Page 3
Then, O Yudhishthira, rising from the sacrificial flames in her splendid form she appeared in front of the King, exceedingly glad as she was; and she, the giver of the boons, spoke this way the word of benediction to the Sovereign of the Earth, Savitri to King Aswapati established in regular practices.
Savitri said:
O King sovereign, I am immensely pleased by your purity and chastity, by your abstinence and self-restraint, the observance of the rules of austerity, and all the heart with which you worshipped me in devotion.
O Aswapati, Ruler of Madra, ask what you desire, the boon; falter not in any way, in performance of the duties of the dharma
Page 4
Aswapati said:
O Goddess, it was with the intention of begetting children for performing religious rites that I had initiated this holy sacrifice; grant several sons that the line of my ancestors may grow.
If so pleased Thou art, O Goddess, I ask for this one boon that I entreat of Thee; the twice-born, the wise of the world, tell me that the proper begetting of progeny is a great dharma.
Fully aware of this intention of yours, O King, did I speak long before to the great Father, God the Creator himself, to grant a child to you.
And as ordained by the self-born Brahma, indeed by^ his gracious favour, soon you will have on earth an effulgent daughter, O gentle-natured,
Page 5
You should not in the least utter anything or argue against it; it is as bestowed by the Father-Creator that I tell it so, pleased that I am with you.
Page 6
The King, consenting, acknowledged gratefully what Savitri promised him; he further implored her for the gracious favour to be fulfilled soon in the near future.
Then, even as Savitri withdrew from sight, the valiant King returned to his capital and, attending to his duties towards people, ruled over the kingdom in the conduct of the dharma.
The King, who was ever fixed in vows of righteousness, in the course of time established his seed in the womb of his eldest queen, the companion in the path of the dharma.
O Yudhishthira, she who conceived was a princess hailing from Malawa; in her the foetus grew, as does in the sky the Lord of the Stars in the bright half of the month.
In fullness of time she gave birth to a lovely girl, lotus-eyed in look; happy about it, the noblest King duly performed all the rituals for the newly arrived.
Given as she was by Savitri, who was pleased by the Savitri-oblations, the father and the wise ones named her too Savitri.
Page 7
The Princess grew like the goddess Fortune herself incarnate, fair and beautiful; then, in course of time she entered into youthful maidenhood.
With large hips and a slender waist graceful as she was, like a golden statue, people beholding her believed that some heavenly damsel had descended amidst them.
Her eyes were like full-blown lotuses and she seemed in her beauty to be flaming with splendour; indeed, warded off by that fiery brilliance, no one approached her asking for her hand.
Once, on a festive ceremonial day, she fasted and then took a holy bath from over her head and thereafter went to worship the god; there, with the chanting of the hymns of benediction by the wise ones, she offered ritual oblations to Agni.
Then, accepting the remains of offerings, for the great-souled one, well-pleased she, who looked graceful like goddess Lakshmi herself incarnate, went to her father.
First giving the prasad to her father she touched his feet in obeisance; then, that beautiful maid stood, with her hands folded, close by the side of the W
Page 8
Seeing his daughter grown up and in full youth, and heavenly and effulgent in form, the King was very much distressed that none had yet come for her as a suitor.
The King said:
O Virgin, the time that you should be given in marriage has arrived, but no one has approached me so far, asking for your hand; hence you should yourself make the choice of a husband, one endowed with qualities befitting you.
Tell me then of him whom you would choose and, after giving due consideration to it, I shall make the marriage proposal; choose him whom you will acceptably desire.
Page 9
What I have heard from the twice-born, well-versed, reciting the sacred scriptures, of that I am speaking to you; you should also hearken to these words, O good auspicious.
One who does not give his daughter in marriage when of right age, such a father is to be reproached; a husband who does not have relation with his wife in the period favourable for conception becomes blameworthy; the son who does not take care of his widowed mother should also be considered censurable.
Listen to what I have said and make speed abroad in search of a husband; do such this deed that by the gods I may not be put to blame.
Page 10
Having thus spoken to his daughter, he then commanded his elderly ministers to make necessary preparations for the journey, and to proceed forthwith along with her.
Blushing somewhat, the high-minded daughter bowed at her father's feet and, without a further thought, taking his words as an order, set out at once.
Riding her golden chariot and accompanied by the elderly counsellors, she travelled through several lovely woods of penance of the royal sages.
O Yudhishthira, there offering her respects to the venerable aged persons, by touching their feet, from forest to forest she went, journeying along.
Thus, giving away great wealth in all the places of pilgrimage, did the Princess visit several distant lands and kingdoms inhabited by the most excellent wise persons.
Page 11
Savitri's Firm Decision to Marry Satyavan.
O Yudhishthira, on one particular occasion, afterwards, the King, the ruler of the Madra country, was in the company of Narad; seated in the royal Hall, he was engaged in conversation with him.
Then, about the same time Savitri, after visiting all the holy places and the cloistered ashramas, returned along with the ministers back to her father's house.
Seeing there her father seated in the company of Narad she, the bright and graceful one, went around and bowed respectfully at the feet of both of them.
Page 12
Narad said:
On what mission, O King, did your daughter go and wherefrom is she returning? and why, now that she is a good young woman, do you not give her in marriage to a suitable husband?
It was indeed with this intent, O God-sage, that I sent her in quest and it is after that she has just returned; let us hear from her of the one whom she must have chosen for her lord and husband.
On being asked by her father to narrate in detail everything of her journey and her discovery she, the, bright and beautiful one, obeying him, spoke this wise.
Page 13
O Lord of the Earth, ruled there far in the Shalwa country a just and warrior king, renowned by the name Dyumatsena; but then he became blind.
Though fixed in wisdom he was, exploiting this opportunity, finding him with his sight gone, and his son still too young, a past enemy of his, a king of the neighbouring land, attacked him and seized his kingdom.
Then he, accompanied by his wife with the child yet at such a tender age, retired to a forest; in that deep and wild forest he began to do austere tapasya by observing great and difficult vows.
His son, though born in the city, was brought up in that penance-grove; in him, whose name is Satyavan, I saw an agreeably proper husband for me and I have chosen him so in my mind.
Page 14
Alas! Savitri has, O King, done something accursed, that forebodes a great evil; unknowingly she has made the choice of Satyavan, taking him to be one of high merit.
His father always speaks truth, even as his mother addresses ever in conformity with it; and for that reason was he named by the Brahmins as Satyavan, the Truthful.
As a young person he is very fond of horses and is used to making clay-horses; he is good at painting horses and therefore is also known by the nickname Chitrashwa, the Painter of the Horses.
Page 15
14. Prince Satyavan is affectionate towards his father, but is he as well bright and intelligent? Is he, moreover, of a forbearing nature, and is he heroic in deed?
He is bright-shining like the Sun-god Vivasvan, and quick and sharp in intelligence like Brihaspati; and, in valiance a hero-warrior like Indra, he is forbearing in the manner of the Earth.
Is prince Satyavan also a giver of gifts? and is he a respecter of the Brahmins? Of excellent features, noble and generous, is he good-looking and handsome too?
Page 16
Like Rantideva, the son of Sankriti, he is munificent within the means at his disposal; and like Shibi, the son of Ushinar, he is a counsellor of truth and is established in Brahmanhood.
Like Yayati he is exceedingly bounteous, and is beautiful like the moon; this son of Dyumatsena, strong in build, is as handsome, as if he were one of the Ashwinikumars.
He has subdued his passions, is soft-natured, is a youth of heroic deeds, is full of truth, and has regulated senses; he is friendly with everybody, without envy, and is of a reserved shy disposition, radiant as he is.
Those who have advanced in tapasya, and grown rich in virtuous nobility, say briefly about him that, he is
Page 17
always straightforward, and is steadfast, and is well established in those qualities.
O venerable Sir, you have been proclaiming all that is noble and beautiful in him, but pray tell also if there are any blemishes too.
Yes, there is but one and is such that, because of it, all the high merits and virtues stand helplessly still; try however one may, it is not possible to erase that blemish.
Satyavan will in one year from today abandon his body, his life here expended; this is the only blemish bearing on him and there is no other.
Page 18
Come hither, O Savitri; to make a happier choice, O fair and virtuous, proceed again; all the several great qualities avail nothing as they remain suppressed in that flawed measure.
Short is his life-span and as the revered Narad, respected by the gods also, says, he shall at the end of the year give up his body.
Only once can occur the division of the property, and only once a daughter given in marriage; having been
Page 19
made, a gift cannot be made a second time, All these three happen once and only once.
May he be of a short life or a long life, with virtuous qualities or else without them; I have chosen him as my husband arid I shall choose not again.
By perception does one first come to a certain conclusion and then one holds it by speech; only afterwards is it put into action. That perception of mine for me is the one single authority here.
O great among men, firm and unperturbed is the understanding, and discernment, of your daughter Savitri; none can swerve her from that, and in every respect it is in conformity with the dharma.
There is no other person who possesses the qualities which Satyavan has; what therefore looks to me proper is to give your daughter in marriage to him.
Page 20
O venerable one, what you say is indeed true and what has to be is unavoidable; therefore I shall do what you advise, for you are my Teacher and my Preceptor.
The marriage of your daughter Savitri shall be without any ill-happening; I shall now take my leave; let always noble and propitious things be to all.
Uttering these benedictions; Narad got up and left for, his abode in Paradise. And here the King began attending to preparations of the daughter's marriage.
Page 21
The Marriage of Satyavan and Savitri; by her Work and Service Savitri's Keeping the In-Laws and Everybody Happy and Pleased.
Then the King paid attention to the details of giving his daughter in marriage; by arranging for the needed materials he got everything ready for the wedding.
Page 22
He invited the elderly Brahmins, and all the priests officiating at the holy sacrifice, and the reciters of the Riks; choosing an auspicious day and hour he, along with them, and his daughter, set out on the journey.
On reaching the deep and sacred forest the King walked, accompanied by the Brahmins, to the hermitage where abode the King-sage Dyumatsena.
There he saw, under a tall and stately shal-tree, seated on an ascetic's mat, the illustrious King, but now blind.
The King with due honour offered respects to the King-sage and using proper and intent speech introduced himself to him.
In return the King-sage, well-versed in dharma as he was, received the King by giving him oblations, and making available a high seat, and by gifting a sacred cow; he then enquired the good cause of his visit to him.
Then, expressing his wish and the purpose of approaching him, about Satyavan, he described the several details that had to be attended to in the matter.
Page 23
O King-sage. a beautiful and virtuous daughter I have, named Savitri; I am approaching you with a request, O established in dharma, to accept her in the just and proper way as your daughter-in-law.
Dyumatsena said:
I have lost my kingdom and here in the forest I dwell, living a life according to the dharma, in the practices of austerity; how can it be fair for your daughter to adopt this hermitage-life, and bear sufferings and hardships associated with it?
Page 24
Happiness and sorrow are born and then die both my daughter and I know of it; please speak not therefore in that way and to a person like me. I have come here with the due resolve, being aware of all the things, O King-sage.
It is in the expectation, and with a feeling of good agreeable friendship, that I solicit you so, and in that disappoint me not; having approached you thus with love send me not back by denying my request.
In every respect you conform to my standing and you are acceptable to me as I too for you; kindly, then, Consent to receive my daughter as a bride for Satyavan and a good daughter-in-law for you.
It had been my long-cherished desire to have a family
Page 25
tie with you; and, with the loss of the kingdom, I thought I had lost all hope for such a relationship.
But if this old wish of mine, which I always held close to me, is to be fulfilled by coming back this way, then, let it be so; you are my most welcome and honourable guest.
Page 26
Then, inviting all the learned Brahmins and the dwellers of the ashram of that forest the two Kings, in their assembly, and following the prescribed rites and ceremonies, performed the marriage.
Aswapati, after giving his daughter, and having extended several presents, and extremely pleased as he was, returned to the Palace.
Satyavan was happy to have such a beautiful wife, endowed with noble and fine qualities; and she too was joyous that her heart's desire had been fulfilled in him as her husband.
After the departure of her father, she laid aside all the rich ornaments and robes, and began wearing bark garments and red-dyed clothes.
With the service and with other similar qualities, of courtesy and humility, of poise and great composure in the conduct, and by doing the varied duties to each -one's satisfaction, she kept all pleased and happy.
She looked after the physical needs of her mother-in-law and took care of her clothes; also, whatever little she spoke to her father-in-law, restraining herself, she did so with godly respect and reverence for him.
In a like manner, with sweet and loving speech, and ever proficient, always remaining calm and tranquil,
Page 27
and in their privacy, she saw, waiting upon her husband, that he was happy.
O Yudhishthira, thus in that ashram, and engaged in tapasya, this way they lived, and a lot of time went by.
But then Savitri, with me in her heart, was languishing ever; on getting up in the morning or while sleeping in the night, at every moment, what Narad had foretold, those words constantly remained in her mind.
Page 28
The Three-Night Vow of Savitri and, with the Permission of the Parents-in-Law, her Going to the Forest along with her Husband.
O Yudhishthira, with the rolling of several lunar" days as the time was passing, the fated hour when Satyavan was to die, was also approaching soon.
Savitri was counting down the day with each lost day; what Narad had foretold about the impending doom, those words were ever fixed in her heart.
The virtuous and noble lady, now much worried, when she saw that only four days were left, undertook
Page 29
the three-night vow of standing night and day at one single place.
The King, when he heard of this difficult vow, was very much distressed; he got up and spoke kind and conciliative words to Savitri.
O Princess, what you have taken upon yourself is very hard and severe; to remain standing throughout like this is extremely difficult to accomplish.
Be not disturbed about it, please; I shall be able to carry the vow without blame; only a firm resolve makes it go through successfully and I have initiated it with that resolve.
Page 30
How can it be proper for me to tell you at all to break the vow? The best a person in my position can wish for you is that you be able to take it to the full end.
Page 31
Saying so, the great-minded Dyumatsena retired and Savitri, standing erect on a fixed spot, appeared to be as though she was a straight wooden post.
O Yudhishthira, 'Tomorrow the husband is to die' it was with this thought, and filled with an intense grief, Savitri remained standing even as the last night of the vow was about to be over.
Next day, knowing that it had arrived, well with the sunrise she completed the morning rituals and lit a bright fire and made to it sacrificial offerings.
Then, she gave her respects and obeisances to all the elders and to the sages, and to the in-laws; folding her hands reverentially, she stood in front of them.
All those dwellers in the sacred forest, grown in austerity, blessed Savitri; the sages wished for her good auspicious things and a life without widowhood.
Entering into the Yoga of Meditation and saying to herself 'Be it just so!', she in her heart of hearts repeated their words of benediction.
Knowing that particular time and that moment as foretold by Narad to be arriving, the Princess was filled with great grief in the thought.
O Yudhishthira, finding thus the Princess seated,
Page 32
lonely and quiet, the father-in-law and the mother-in-law spoke with loving tenderness to her.
The Father-in-Law said:
You have, following the strictest rules of observance, completed the vow; it is time now that you should take food, but then do what is befitting in the matter.
It is only when the sun has departed, and my desire is fulfilled, that I shall eat; this is my heart's resolve and at present I shall go by it.
Page 33
While Savitri was conversing thus about food Satyavan, taking his axe on his shoulder, was leaving for the forest.
Savitri, approaching her husband, told him that he would not go alone and that she would accompany him; she would not leave him so unattended.
Satyavan said:
O sweet and beautiful, never have you been to the forest earlier, and the paths there are rough and wounding; besides, when you have become so feeble with your vow and fast, how can you then walk?
Neither languid nor exhausted do I feel due to this vow and the fasting; but full of eagerness because I
Page 34
am to accompany you, refuse me not this request of mine.
If you are so desirous to come, I shall do what is pleasing to you; but that I be not blamed for this, obtain permission from the venerables.
Then Savitri, the observer of the difficult vow, went to her in-laws and, with due respect, requested them this way: Presently, my husband is leaving for the great forest to gather fruits.
Page 35
A desire impels me to go also with him, if by the respectable mother and father-in-law I shall be permitted to do so; I cannot bear, even for a moment, separation from him any more.
Your son is going to the forest to collect fruits and flowers and sacrificial wood for the sacred fire, as are needed by his revered Teachers. So it behoves me not to stop him from this; had it been for something else, I would not have allowed him to go to the forest.
Besides, it is almost for a year that I did not step out of the ashram-premises; but now a curiosity has arisen in me to see the forest, full of trees and flowers.
Ever since Savitri's father left her here as my daughter-in-law, never has she made any request to me for anything; I do not recollect her having done so any time.
And, therefore, let the young wife have what she is longing for; but, O my dear daughter, be not inadvertent while following the way with Satyavan.
Page 36
Obtaining thus the permission from both the in-laws, the triumphant lady went with her husband; but,' while she appeared to be smiling and happy, in her bosom she carried as ever a deep affliction.
She saw, large-eyed as she was, different parts of the forest varied in aspects, and beautiful everywhere, with flocks of joyous peacocks.
Showing the sacred streams carrying waters, and the tall mountains, and trees laden with flowers, Satyavan would speak to Savitri in words that were honeysweet.
Yet, with a steadfast look, she kept a close vigil on all the movements of her husband; remembering well the
Page 37
words of the heavenly Sage, she knew for certain the death of her husband with the arrival of Time.
She, walking with a soft and gentle gait, had her heart as if divided into two, one following her husband and the other in the await of the fatal moment.
Page 38
The Dialogue between Savitri and Yama; with Savitri's Commendable Utterances Yama's Getting Pleased and his Granting her Several Boons; Satyavan's Coming back to Life and, after Some Talk Amongst them, their Setting forth towards the Ashram.
Then he, lustrous in strength, and helped by his wife, collected a basketful of fruits and began chopping the firewood.
But, while hewing the branches, he started sweating profusely and, as a result of that hard labour, suffering a severe headache.
Distressed as he was, he went closer to his loving wife and in that affliction told her —
Page 39
There is a cleaving headache that has come to me due to this hard work.
And, O Savitri, all my limbs are in agony and there is a burning sensation in my heart; I find myself gravely indisposed, O one of few words.
It appears to me as though sharp spikes are being driven through my head; I wish to lie down, O blessed and auspicious, as I have no strength to remain standing.
Page 40
Markandeya said
Savitri, finding him so, immediately went closer to her husband and sat on the ground and took his head in her lap.
Remembering what Narad had said, that devout woman, observer of the ascetic practices, began reckoning the day, the time, even the hour and the moment.
Within a short while she saw present there a bright person in red attire, with a tiara on his head; handsome and brilliant he looked, as though the Sun-God himself had appeared there.
His body, dark in hue, was lustrous, and his eyes were blood-red, and he had a noose in his hand which inspired great fright; standing close behind Satyavan he was steadfastly gazing at him.
She, noticing him there, laid aside her husband's head on the ground and stood up with folded hands and, trembling in her heart, spoke in an anxious longing voice to him.
Page 41
I take you to be some noble god as you have a form other than the human; if it pleases you, pray tell me who you are and what you propose to do, O god!
Yama said:
O Savitri, as you are devoted to your husband, and as you practise askesis, I can converse with you; know me, O virtuous lady, to be Yama.
Your husband Satyavan, earth-born as he is, his life is over, and I have come to bind him forcibly and take him away with me; yes, this is what I propose to do.
O Lord, what I have heard is that you send your
Page 42
ministers when human beings are concerned; and how is it then that you have come here yourself in person, O Master?
When asked in this manner, the King-father Lord duly began narrating everything, all in a sequence, for her satisfaction and happiness.
As he is conjoined in the dharma and has beautiful features and is an ocean of noble qualities, it is not in propriety that he be taken by my ministers; for this reason I have come myself in person.
Then Yama pulled out with force Satyavan's soul, the
Page 43
being no bigger than the thumb, who is fettered by his body and subject to it.
With the departure of the life-breath his respiration ceased; his body, bereft of all lustre, remained immobile and was not pleasing to look at.
Yama then tied it up and started moving towards the South; and Savitri, afflicted with agony, went behind Yama, following in his steps. That great lady, devoted to her husband, could do this having obtained the siddhi, the fulfilment, of the vow.
Savitri, turn back and attend to the funeral rites of the dead; you have now paid the debt to your husband and are free of it; as far you could go with him, you have come.
Page 44
Wheresoever is taken my husband, or wheresoever he goes of his own, there must I follow him; that is the eternal dharma, the conduct of righteousness.
By austerity, devotion to the preceptors, love for the husband, observance of the holy vow, and by your noble grace, there is nothing that my going can arrest.
Knowers of the science of reality proclaim that, by taking seven steps with a person, a friendly relationship is established with him; honouring our friendship in that respect, I shall tell you something to which I request you to listen.
Those who are not self-possessed, even though they may stay in a forest, they cannot practise dharma, or go by the preceptors, or undertake difficult austerities.
Page 45
The wise, who know discrimination, hold happiness to lie in the dharma alone; therefore do the sages give to dharma such pre-eminence.
Following one's own dharma, approved by those who are established in the truth, one knows the path which takes one to the goal; therefore, one should not covet the second, or the third, or any other person's dharma: such is the dharma which the sages hold to be excellent.
O unblamable, return now; in true accent and knowing the letters well and making the right use of the words, and with the proper reasoning that you speak, I am pleased with you. Ask for a boon which I shall grant, but excluding life for the dead.
Page 46
My father-in-law has lost his kingdom and is an exile, abiding in the forest, and he is blind; I desire that the King may, by your grace, gain his sight and be mighty and glorious like the fire and the sun.
O unblamable, I grant you the boon you have asked for and it will be so; but I see that, by walking a great distance, you are exhausted. Return therefore that you may not be more tired by this exertion.
Page 47
How can I be weary or tired when close I am to my husband? Where dwells my husband, indeed, there I shall be. Wheresoever you will be taking my Lord, I too must go thither; O God sovereign, listen again to what I shall say.
Company with the virtuous, even though for a short while, is a highly cherished occasion; being in their friendship is said to be greater still; association with holy persons is never fruitless. Therefore, one should always be close to the truthful virtuous.
O fair young lady, what you have said is most salutary for all, and is very agreeable to my mind, and is to be hailed greatly in the increase of intelligence of the learned. Ask for yet another boon, but not that of the life of Satyavan.
Page 48
My wise father-in-law has lost his kingdom and may that come back to the King as before; he is like my preceptor and let him never abandon the dharma. This by the second boon I ask of you.
Soon, and without difficulty, shall the King regain his lost kingdom, and never will he depart from Righteousness: O princess, now what you desired I have granted to you,, return therefore that the journey may not weary you,
Page 49
O Ordainer, great in poise, the Law you uphold for the welfare of the creatures, and to different worlds you take them according to your wishes; and that is why everywhere you are well-known as Yama. But please listen to what I am going to address to you.
Not to have malice and not to hurt anyone with thought, or with word, or with act, but to give away in charity, and always show kindness, is indeed the dharma of the virtuous.
Creatures of this world generally live a short life and are prone to spend away their strength; but the noble and the saintly are friendly and kind, in your manner, even to the enemy when he approaches them.
O bright eminent lady, in the like way a thirsty person
Page 50
becomes happy on getting water, I am so much moved by your words; therefore, again, but not for the life of Satyavan, ask for another boon that you greatly desire.
Sonless is my father, the Lord of the Earth, and hence grant to him the fatherhood of a hundred sons of his own, that his line may continue to grow. From you this is the third boon I wish to get.
O noble lady, a hundred illustrious sons shall be born, this way for your father to perpetuate his race; but now, O princess, your wish granted, return, for quite
ge – 51
far have you come on this path here,
Close to my husband as I am, this place is not far or remote to me, and my mind can run even faster than this; therefore, as you proceed, those words which I have already spoken, listen to them again from me.
You are the mighty son of Vivasvan, and that is why the learned call you Vaivasvat; to all the creatures you are fair, and you uphold the dharma. For that reason you are, O Lord, also known as Dharmaraj.
More than himself does a man put his trust in the
Page 52
sages and so everyone gives more of his love in particular to them.
Only with a good heart can the living beings find trust in one another, and hence the sages are particularly trusted by everybody.
Never have I heard such holy utterances, O .well-learned and bright lady, in anyone speaking to me; ask for yet another boon, the fourth, pleased that I am, but not the life for the deceased, and from hither return to your place.
By our union, mine with Satyavan, let there be a
Page 53
hundred sons, noble and heroic in deed, well-born, extending the glory of the house; this is the fourth boon that I desire.
You shall have, O woman, a Kindred sons, mighty and heroic, who shall gladden your heart; but; O princess, you have come walking a long distance and therefore now return, that you may not get tired on the way back.
Page 54
Holy people ever abide in the dharma, and do not the sages despair, nor are they afflicted any time. Such a company or fellowship of the pious with the saints is never without rewards or fruits. Never is for them any fear from the saints.
By the Truth the saints lead the sun; by askesis the saints uphold the earth; the past, present and future find their refuge in the saints, O King. Noble persons in the midst of the saints have never any grief.
Those endowed with nobility honour and serve the -dharmic practices of eternal value; in that they strive for the supreme good of one another, and at each other do not look otherwise.
Benedictions of the persons established in the Truth go never unfulfilled; neither in them is the ill of selfishness, nor is there the wounded sense of lost pride; and because such three qualities are ever present in the saints, they are hailed as the protectors of the world.
Page 55
O devoted and chaste lady, the more in well-adorned verses, full of great significance and agreeable to perception, you speak of the noble things conformable to the dharma, the more does my excellent devotion for you increase; therefore, choose yet another but an appropriate boon from me.
Page 56
O destroyer of pride, this boon which you have granted me is of a different kind than the earlier ones and it cannot get fulfilled without proper matrimony; that is why, again, I ask for the life of Satyavan, without whom as a husband I am as good as dead.
If I am to get such pleasure without my husband I shall abstain from it; even if heaven were offered to me I would not enter it without my husband; I am not anxious to possess wealth or fortune if it is without my husband; actually, 1 do not wish even to exist without my husband.
You have given me the boon of a hundred sons and you yourself are taking my husband away; for that reason I ask again the boon of life for Satyavan, by which your words shall come true.
Page 57
Saying 'Let it be so' Dharmaraj Yama, the son of Vivasvan, released the noose from around his soul and, delighted, spoke this way to Savitri:
O gracious lady, here I free your husband, O daughter doing honour to the House; by your words possessed with the merit of the dharma, O saintly woman, you have fully gladdened me. Take him now, of sound health and fit to return, to accomplish your desire which shall come true soon.
He shall have a life of four hundred years to live with you; also, by performing the holy Yajnas of fire
Page 58
sacrifice and by the conduct of the dharma, he shall be renowned in the world.
Satyavan will give you a hundred sons, and they will be all heroic kings, and will have themselves several sons and grandsons.
They will he all well-known forever by your name; then, your father too will beget a hundred sons from your mother.
Born as they will be by your mother Malawi, they will always be recognised as the Malawas; in turn, your brothers will also have kingly sons and grandsons who will be all bright like the gods.
Giving boons to Savitri in this manner, the mighty Upholder of the Law sent her back and he himself returned to his abode.
After the departure of Yama, Savitri, on getting her husband back, came to the old place where her husband's body was lying dead.
She went near her husband when she saw him thus on the ground; then she sat there and, lifting his head, put it in her lap.
On gaining anew his consciousness, he began talking to Savitri, like one who had just returned from a. journey abroad; he looked at her with affection, again and again.
Page 59
Oh! for such a long time I have been sleeping, and why is it that you did not wake me up? And where is that dark-hued Person who was dragging me with
him?
Yes, you have been sleeping in my lap for quite some time, my Lord; and that great God was Yama himself, the Ordainer of the Creatures, but he has now left.
O highly virtuous and fortunate, O prince, you have taken good rest and you are full-awake; look, a thick dark night is gathering around us and hence, it you feel active and energetic, do get up.
Page 60
Satyavan recovered his consciousness and got up, happy like a person after sound sleep; then, after casting on the forest a glance in all directions, he spoke:
To gather fruit and fuel I had come here, accompanied
Page 61
by you, O slender-waisted and graceful; but while chopping the wood, I started getting a head-piercing ache.
With that agonising pain in the head I was unable to stand any longer and, therefore laying myself in your lap, I had slept; all this, O sweet and winsome, I remember now.
In this way soothed by the touch of your body as I slept, I lost all my awareness; then I saw a frightful darkness and, soon, a Person possessed of great splendour appeared there.
About it, O fair and beautiful-bodied, if you know anything please tell me; tell whether it was a dream that I was seeing, or was it something real?
Then Savitri replied: O prince, as the night is advancing all around, I shall narrate in every respect the entire episode to you tomorrow.
Arise, O Suvrata, arise and let auspicious things happen to you; you must hasten to meet your parents, for the sun has already declined and the night is growing in darkness.
Those cruel-voiced prowlers of the night are moving freely now; and listen to the sound in the fallen leaves as the wild beasts go about in the forest.
This fearsome howling of the she-jackals in the south,
Page 62
and in the west, is causing my mind and my heart to tremble.
This forest filled with a thick darkness appears to be very frightful; nor therein will you be able to know the path, nor walk.
There was a wild fire today in the forest and a dry tree is still burning; fanned by the wind the flames from it are seen now and then.
Page 63
I shall go there and fetch some fire and, by burning the withered twigs, light the way all along; distress not yourself in the least.
But if you have no energy, or inclination to walk, or if you are not sure of the path in the forest filled with darkness,
Then, if you so desire, we shall return in the morning when we shall be able to see everything in the wood; if it is agreeable to you, O sinless and unblamable, we shall spend the night here.
Page 64
सत्यवानुवाच
Now the headache has gone away, and my body appears to be in a healthy state; I desire, with your kind graciousness, to return and meet my parents.
Never before at such an odd time did I reach the hermitage; and my mother always forbids my going out after the twilight hour.
Even during the day, whenever I go far away, the elders get worried, afflicted; and my father, along with the ashram-dwellers, moves out in search of me.
Page 65
Distressed in this manner, my parents have on several earlier occasions censured me by saying that I return late quite often.
In what plight must they be at present waiting for me? That thought itself causes me great concern; not seeing me back they will no doubt be plunged in deep grief.
On one earlier occasion, the old parents grieved very much throughout the night, with tears flowing constantly; they expressed their loving affection for me, again and again:
O dear son, not even for two hours can we remain alive without you; only that long is our life certain, O fond child, as you will hold yours.
Both of us are old and blind and you are our eyes' sight, and it is through you that our lineage shall grow; our death-rites, fame and fortune of the family, the progeny and continuity, all depend upon you.
My mother is aged as also my father, and I am like a staff in their hands. Seeing me not back in the night, into a sorrowing condition will they surely fall.
I curse this sleep of mine, because of which my father as well as my mother, who never does wrong to me, must be now full of apprehensions of danger for me.
I am myself filled with doubt and in this difficult
Page 66
predicament do not know what I should do; without my father and my mother I cannot even remain alive.
Alarmed and troubled my father, whose intelligence is but his sight, must certainly be going around, from one ashram-dweller to another, enquiring about me.
O splendid lady, not so much am I concerned about myself as I am for my father and more for my mother who, feeble and frail, is an excellent companion and follower of her husband.
I shall prove to be the cause of their great anguish today; it is in their living that I live and proper care of them I must take.
It is my duty, I know, I should do what indeed pleases them, and keeps them happy.
Page 67
Thus saying he, that righteous soul, devout to the venerable elders, and dear to them,
Started weeping aloud, filled with sorrow, and raising both his hands. Seeing her husband in grief, and broken down, he speaking this way,
Savitri, the follower of dharma, wiped the tears from her own eyes and said: If at all I have done any hard austerities, given away sacred alms, or ever made proper fire-offerings,
Then by that merit let this night prove to my in-laws auspicious. If ever I have spoken playfully, or unbecomingly, something that is not true, that I do not recollect.
By the strength of that truth, let my in-laws be safe and living.
Page 68
We shall now return, O Savitri, eager as I am, and impatient, to meet my parents. (Moreover, shall I not be seeing the revered ones, dear to me as they are?)
O fair and beautiful lady, should I see something disagreeable happen to my father or my mother, I say truly touching myself that I shall not be living any more.
If your understanding is fixed in the dharma, if you desire me to be living, or if you take it as your duty to accept what is pleasing to me, then let us both return to the ashram immediately.
That virtuous woman Savitri then, getting up, knotted
Page 69
her loose hair and clasped both the hands of her husband, helping him to stand.
Satyavan also stood up and with one hand dusted his body; while looking around in all the directions, he noticed the fruit-basket lying a little farther away.
But then Savitri told him that the fruit-basket could be collected the next morning; however, she wanted to carry his axe for safety and protection.
She tied the basket, filled with fruit, to the low branch of a nearby tree and, with the axe in her hand, went back where her husband was.
Taking her husband's left hand around her left shoulder, her own right hand encircling his waist, well-bosomed as she was and with the slow elegance of an elephant's gait, she started walking.
O timid woman, by frequenting this region I have
Page 70
become quite familiar with the several paths here; looking simply at the stars through the branches of the trees I can identify them easily.
Indeed, this is the same path by which we came and along which we gathered fruit; O pretty and bright, follow it and proceed without worrying about the path.
Near the group of palash-trees the path bifurcates and moves in two different directions; take the one which leads to the north, but now speed up.
I am in a good state of health and I have strength and I am anxiously desirous of seeing my parents.
He then, saying so, started walking in great haste towards the ashram.
Page 71
The Grief-Stricken Parents, the Rishis Consoling Them and Giving Them Assurances, the Return of Satyavan and Savitri, and Savitri's Narration of the Reasons for their Coming Back Late.
Page 72
At about the same time the mighty King Dyumatsena got back the sight, clear and pellucid, with which he began seeing everything very well.
But, O Yudhishthira, greatly perturbed as he was, for his son, he along with his wife Shaibya went to the several hermitages enquiring about him.
That night they, husband and wife, went to the several ashramas and to the river-banks and to the lakes around, in different parts of the forest, looking for him.
Whenever they heard any voice, they believed, expectantly, that it was their son's; they spoke, cheering each other, that Satyavan was coming with Savitri.
With their feet having become stiff, with the blades of grass and the thorns piercing their bodies, bruised and bleeding, they were running hither and thither, raving in madness.
Then all the learned and elderly ashram-dwellers gathered around them and gave them comforting assurances; they then took them back to their hermitage.
Page 73
The elders, grown rich in tapasya, narrated to the grieving couple, encouraging and consoling them, several meaningful stories of the ancient kings.
In spite of these repeated assurances, possessed as they were by the single thought of seeing their son, . they sorrowed greatly and began remembering his childhood.
They were wailing aloud, without cease and in deep anguish, crying: Woe to us! Our son, our virtuous daughter-in-law, where are you now, where? Then one of the Brahmins, the speaker of the Truth-Word, began telling them this wise.
Suvarchas said:
His wife Savitri, I know, is engaged in tapasya, and has control over the senses, and is of a good well-poised conduct; from that I can proclaim that Satyavan is alive.
Page 74
Gautama said:
I have studied the Vedas and all their six limbs, accumulated great might of askesis, observed the strictest celibacy from my early youth, and pleased well my preceptors and the Fire-God.
I have completed, with the power of concentration, all the vows and in former times I had observed meticulously the fasting-rites by nourishing myself with the air only.
I can, by the strength of these faultless austerities, know all the movements of others; take, therefore, what I assert to be true, that Satyavan is living.
The Disciple said:
Whatever is uttered by my revered Teacher, those words never can turn out to be false; yes, Satyavan must be living.
Page 75
Some Rishis said:
His wife Savitri is endowed with all those excellent and virtuous qualities that dispel widowhood; this must mean that Satyavan is living.
Bharadwaj said:
His wife Savitri, I know, is engaged in askesis, and has ; mastered the senses, and is well-poised in her manner of action; I can hence affirm that Satyavan is living.
Dalbhya said:
By the token that you have suddenly started seeing, and by the reckoning how Savitri was observing the
Page 76
vow, and by the fact that she went with him without breaking her fast, it is clear that Satyavan is living.
Apastamba said:
The manner in which in these tranquil benign surroundings the beasts and the birds are finding voice, and the manner in which you have been doing the things befitting a king, all this goes to show that Satyavan is living.
Dhaumya said:
As your son is rich in merit, and is handsome, as he is dear to everyone, and as he has the marks of a person with long life, from that it is clear that Satyavan is living.
Page 77
In this manner those speakers of the Truth-Word established in austerities, gave cheering assurances to him; he respecting them and listening to them became somewhat quiet, and composed himself.
Then, a short while after, Savitri with her husband Satyavan arrived there in the night, entering the ashram-premises, greatly happy.
The Brahmins said:
O Lord of the Earth, we jubilate in your meeting with the son and, possessed with sight as
we see you, we invoke and mark progress and good fortune for you in these happenings.
Union with your son, seeing Savitri herself present here, and your regaining eyesight all these three portend high prosperity for you.
Page 78
The words that we had uttered, all those came true in the exact manner and about that there is no doubt; the future also will soon be, again and again, of great thriving for you.
O Yudhishthira, then lighting in the open a bright fire, all those twice-born and holy sat around, with King Dyumatsena, the Lord of the Earth.
Shaibya, and Satyavan and Savitri who were standing farther at one end, also took their seats when directed to do so by everybody, now griefless.
O Yudhishthira, all those Dwellers of the Wood, sitting with the King, began asking several questions to the prince, his son, being eagerly desirous of knowing everything.
Page 79
The Rishis said:
Why is it that you, along with your wife, did not arrive"* much earlier than this? Why at such an odd hour in the night? Was there any obstacle or difficulty that came in the way?
By your delay in this manner you have caused, O prince, such distress to both your parents and to all of us; we are unable to understand anything and hence tell us in detail whatever has happened.
Obtaining permission from my father I had gone,
Page 80
Savitri accompanying me, to the forest; there, while chopping the pieces of wood, I suddenly had a severe headache.
Afflicted by that piercing agony I fell asleep for too long, I suppose; never did I sleep in this manner any time earlier.
On waking up I decided to return immediately despite the growing night, realising that you would be all worried about me; and for the delay there is no other reason.
But your father Dyumatsena got his eyesight so unexpectedly, its cause you do not seem to know; Savitri will be able to tell us about it.
O Savitri, I am eager to hear of it from you; you know, O Savitri, all that is far and near, that belongs to the past and to the future; you understand it, one
Page 81
like Goddess Savitri herself as you are, with 1? effulgence.
Surely, you have the knowledge of its cause and its' purpose, and therefore speak the truth of it; if there is nothing in it to hide from us, tell us all of it.
What you are all soliciting of me is quite just and your wish, understandably, cannot be otherwise; besides there is nothing in it that I have to hide. Listen to
Page 82
what I am going to narrate in proper detail.
Narad, the high soul, had foretold to me my husband's death long before; this was to happen today and for that reason I did not leave him alone.
When he fell asleep Yama himself came there, accompanied by his assistants; he subdued him and tied him and started moving in the direction of the departed, the abode of the forefathers.
Then to the eminent God I offered, with the utterances of the Truth, gratifying eulogies; he granted me five boons about which you will presently hear from me.
Vision and regaining his kingdom were the first two boons I obtained for my father-in-law; one hundred sons for my father and another hundred for myself were the next two I received.
By the last I got my husband Satyavan back, with a life of four hundred years; it was precisely for the return of the life of my husband that I had undertaken the vow.
I have thus explained in detail to you all the real reason of the delay; this great sorrow which I had to I bear has at last turned into happiness.
Page 83
The House of the King was plunging more and more into darkness, assailed by misfortunes; but you of noble birth and a virtuous wife, sweet and amiable in nature, and an observer of the vows, one given to meritorious conduct, redeemed the family from doom.
Thuswise the Rishis, who had assembled there, spoke respectfully, and adoringly about her, the excellent among women; then, with the permission of the King, and of his son, they took their leave and went back, in great happiness, to their respective cottages.
Page 84
Request from the Citizens of Shalwa to Dyumatsena to Return and to Rule over the Kingdom, the Coronation Ceremony, and the Fulfilment of the Boons by Getting a Hundred Sons and a Hundred Brothers.
Page 85
When the night was over and the solar orb had well ascended they, all rich in austerities, performed their morning rituals and gathered again.
All those great Rishis spoke to Dyumatsena of the extreme good fortune of Savitri and were not contented even though they expressed it again and again.
About the same time, arriving, the citizens of Shalwa informed the King that his enemy had been killed by his own minister.
They further told him: His kin as well as his associates have also been murdered by the same minister; the army of the enemy too has fled.
Page 86
in one voice people in the entire kingdom have expressed their confidence in the former king only; whether he can see or he is blind, that matters not, and he alone shall be the rightful ruler.
O Sovereign, we have been sent, having arrived at this firm and flawless decision, to solicit you to return; the chariots are ready and the full army in all its four divisions is at your command.
O King, consent to it; a happy welcome awaits you even as the trumpets declare in the capital your victory. Long may you live and rule over the kingdom of your forefathers.
Seeing the King possessed with sight, and in good sound health, their eyes grew large with surprise; then, bowing their heads low, they all paid respects to him.
The King made his reverential obeisances to the elderly Brahmins of the ashram, worshipped them all and, with their approval, departed for his capital.
Shaibya along with Savitri sat in a well-decorated beautiful carriage drawn by several men and, with the army for protection, left the place.
Gladdened, there the priests sprinkled the holy unctuous waters and performed the coronation ceremony for Dyumatsena; the great-souled Satyavan was at the same time ceremoniously installed as the crown-prince.
Page 87
Then, in the course of long time, Savitri gave birth to a hundred sons, enhancing her name and her glory hero-warriors as they were, they never retreated from the battlefields.
In the same way her father Aswapati, the King of Madra, begot a hundred sons, true brothers to her from her mother Malawi; they too were mighty and great in strength.
That is how Savitri had saved and upraised herself, and her father and mother, her father-in-law and mother-in-law, extricated the whole House of her husband from calamity.
The fortune-bringer Draupadi, full of noble qualities, will also, like Savitri, high-born and chaste, carry you all across to the shore.
Page 88
The story of Savitri narrated by Rishi Markandeya to Yudhishthira appears as a minor episode or upakhyana in seven cantos of the Book of the Forest in the Mahabharata (Pativrata Mahatmya, Chapters 293-299, Vana Parva, Gita Press, Gorakhpur). The immediate purpose of the narration seems to be the alleviation of grief of the eldest of the Pandavas, afflicted as he was by the sad helpless plight of his brothers and more so by the plight of their common wife Draupadi. This virtuous daughter of Drupada, the king of Panchala Desh, was born in the purity of a sacrificial flame and was radiant and beautiful like a damsel who had come from the city of the gods. Warrior princes and heroes from far and near lands were attracted by her bewitching charm, but among the suitors who had come to claim her hand only Arjuna in his shining valour could win her. Noble as she was, she always remained chaste and faithful in her conduct; she was learned and intelligent, she observed the sacred vows, she respected the elders and the wise, and she was a lady of great determination. Fate had in many ways humiliated her in life, and its wretched ignominy she had to suffer almost without end; the cousins of the Pandavas were only instruments in that cruel working. Even after the Eighteen-day War all her five sons, one each from her five husbands, were treacherously butchered by Aswatthama. But she, by her sacrifices for the righteous cause, was going to prove for the Pandavas a saviour and fortune bringer. Issues far deeper than battles and kingdoms were involved in which human merits and misdemeanours were superficialities;
Page 91
in these Draupadi was a player who had accepted her lot with the strength of will that is born of a flaming life-instinct. Eventually the overmastering agents of evil and falsehood were exterminated and the rule of fair law established, though at a very high price. If she had emerged from the Fire-Altar, as is said to be, it is in it that the Past had to be consumed, the old Karmas of ages and all the Sanskaras put to flame. The Princess's sufferings were therefore poignantly characteristic of the great upheavals that shake up a society on the eve of a coming Era. In it a new Yuga, a new world-order was ushered in. Rishi Markandeya holds the same promise, perhaps even a more splendid promise, in the Savitri-example he prefers to give to Yudhishthira. The Princess of Madra King Aswapati's daughter, had suffered greatly for her husband's sake and had won noble satisfying boons, including the exceptional boon of Satyavan's life, from Yama the King-Father Lord himself. Occult-symbolically, the God became the sun-bright giver of immortality to the Soul of Man on the Earth.
The Rishi begins the narration with Aswapati's worship of Goddess Savitri for eighteen years. He is issueless and his concern is to beget children for the continuance of his ancestral line engaged in performance of the sacred dharma; hence he decides to undertake this long and arduous tapasya. Every day a hundred-thousand oblations he offers to Savitri even while observing the strictest ritual-vows during the entire period. The Goddess is immensely pleased by his devotion to her and approaches the Father-Creator Brahma to grant a son to him. But he is to get the gift of a radiant daughter and he is told not to have any uneasy feeling in accepting what has been sanctioned.
Page 92
When a baby-girl was born, she was appropriately named Savitri, given to him as she was by the Goddess Savitri herself. In course of time she enters into youthful maidenhood but, because of her fiery splendour, no one approaches her and woos her to marry. The father suggests to the daughter, as was the custom in those days, to seek a husband of her own choice. Accompanied by the elderly counsellors of the royal court she sets out on the missioned task. Savitri travels to distant lands in her unknown search and visits proud capital cities on river banks, and holy shrines, and several penance-groves of the kingly sages. She offers her prayers to the deities in pilgrim-centers and gives away great charities to the learned and worthy ones as she moves in her quest from place to place. In the meanwhile sage Narad visits Aswapati and, as they are engaged in conversation, returns Savitri to the palace. She pays her respects to the elders and, on being asked by her father, discloses that in the forest of the Shalwa country she met Satyavan and it is in him that she has made her choice of a husband. But Narad, without a moment's pause, declares the choice of Savitri to be something accursed, and hence blameworthy. When solicited, the sage describes the wonderful qualities of Satyavan and also tells that the only blemish in him is that he is destined to die one year after the marriage. Aswapati suggests to his daughter to go on another quest, but she is firm in her resolve. She asserts that she has chosen him as her husband and that she would not choose again. Narad sees in it a fine luminous understanding and discernment, in conformity with the dharma, and recommends the marriage. In fact, he blesses it and wishes it to pass off without any ill-happening. Then Aswapati,
Page 93
following the age-old tradition, makes a formal proposal to Satyavan's father Dyumatsena and the wedding of Savitri and Satyavan is solemnised in the presence of the Rishis of the sacred Forest. One year is about to end and Savitri is greatly afflicted when only four days are left in the life of her husband. She decides to undertake an austere vow of standing for three days and three nights continuously at a given place, without taking food. On arrival of that fated day she worships the Fire-God and after receiving the blessings from the elders, accompanies Satyavan to the wood where he has to go for his usual work. But, while engaged in cutting a tree-branch, he suddenly feels very tired and exhausted and begins to perspire profusely. Savitri takes him in her lap and reckons the coming of the moment foretold by Narad. Not too long thence, she sees standing there a bright-God with blood-red eyes and with a noose in his hand. When Savitri asks as to who he is, he introduces himself to be Yama and tells her that, as Satyavan's life here is expended, he has come to take away his soul. He then pulls out the soul forcibly from his body and, carrying it with him, starts moving in the southerly direction. Savitri follows him determinedly and offers him high and truthful eulogies in the strength of eternal values. In the process she receives several boons from him, including finally the release of Satyavan from the noose of death. On their return to the earth, they realise that the forest has already grown dark in the evening and that they must make haste to go back to the hermitage where the elders must be waiting for them with all the anxiety in their heart. Actually, Dyumatsena is very much disturbed and almost becomes unconsolable. But then the Brahmins and Rishis of the holy Forest
Page 94
assuage his fears and help him recover his composure by giving him comforting assurances. In a short while Satyavan and Savitri arrive at the premises and there is great jubilation. Sage Gautama, asserting Savitri to be the effulgence of the Goddess herself, possessing the knowledge of all that happens in the divisions of space and time, and beyond, requests her to tell the secret of their coming late, when it had grown so dark in the night; he knows that something unusual, something supernatural, must have happened in the woods during the day. Savitri reveals to them the several details, beginning with the prophecy of Narad about the death of Satyavan on that particular day, the purpose of her accompanying him when he went for the work, Yama's arrival and taking away his soul, and his granting her five boons including a long life of four hundred years for Satyavan to live with her and their begetting a rich progeny. Markandeya concludes the narration by saying that in course of time all the boons got fulfilled. In a like manner, he assures Yudhishthira, Draupadi too will carry the Pandavas across the shore.
Such in brief is the structural outline of the Savitri-tale given to us by Vyasa, a short composition of three hundred shlokas, mostly in Anushtubha metre, a creation belonging to the poet's early period. Compared with his own narrative using the Nala-theme written "in the morning of his genius", it is a "maturer and nobler work, perfect and restrained in detail, with the glow of the same youth and grace over it". We already begin to see in it the Poet of the Mahabharata proper with his austere and ""ornamented features, the verses lifted up by a robust and unerring intellect and the substance carrying the quiet
Page 95
compact strength of his style and diction. Whatever is there is most often poetically functional, holding to the dictum of manner shaped and formed by matter. But very rarely is this taken note of while renarrating such a difficult author's work; even departures are made at times in textual details that give quite an un-Vyasian picture, almost falsifying what the creator meant to convey. This bane of the vernaculars is pretty frequently transferred to the English versions also. Severity of the classical Sanskrit language, further heightened by the "pale and marble Rishi's" mountain-poise, is conspicuous by its absence in these effusive renderings; these tend to forget, or ignore, that the packed density of Vyasa's thoughts is indeed the quintessential feature of his style and narrative. Bearing its full charge, the epic movement always courses with unhampered speed and momentum, reluctant to linger in purely lyrical descriptions. He alone, says Sri Aurobindo, could "paint the power of a woman's silent love rejecting everything which went beyond this... There has been only one who could have given us a Savitri." This tale has in it already the dimensions of a masterpiece, carrying the vision of a bright tapasvin who, though may appear seated far, is yet amidst us to impart the knowledge of the occult mysterious. The seer-poet, with the impersonality of the Purusha, yet participates dynamically in the actions of the world, remaining "steadfast and unshaken by even the heaviest of storms". The calm and sober manner of the original has to enter into any rendering if we are really to get the delight of this detached poetry; its rasa is not in the thickness of the honey, but in the unconcerned matter-of-fact flow of felicity bearing some luminous sweetness in its current. Let us take a few examples to see in contrast the
Page 96
difference between the art of a supreme aesthete of non motional grandeur and the easy facile way of retelling the Savitri-tale by others.
The following version from the children's section of a daily nas many merits and is worth narrating in full:
Ashvapati means owner of horses. In the days when a man's wealth was measured by the number of horses, elephants and cattle he had, to be an Ashvapati meant to be rich. King Ashvapati was rich indeed. He was wise too. But he had no children. He and his wife practised penance and offered sacrifices in order to get a son. They meditated on Goddess Savitri.
The goddess was pleased with Ashvapati's devotion, but out of the sacrificial fire came not the son he had hoped for, but a lustrous girl child. Ashvapati named her Savitri. This girl was to be the redeemer of two house holds her father's as well as her father-in-law's.
When Savitri grew up, so great was her beauty, wisdom and accomplishment, that no man felt himself to be her equal. So no one came to ask for her hand. Her father suggested that she could indicate her choice. "Father, why don't you let me go on a long pilgrimage?" she asked. It was a discreet way of finding eligible men, and her father agreed.
Accompanied by a sober retinue, she travelled far and wide. Finally in a forest she saw a young man hewing wood. The lustre of his body was such that she knew he was not born to that occupation. Enquiries revealed he was the son of a blind king whose enemies had driven him out of his kingdom with his wife and infant son. The grownup prince Satyavan was the woodcutter Savitri saw.
Page 97
She returned to her father and told him she had found the young man she wished to marry. At that time, sage Narada was present in the court. He was horrified at her choice. Ashvapati wondered if there were any shortcomings in the young man's character. "No", Narada assured him, "He has all the virtues a young man should have " What was the objection then? Narada revealed that Satyavan had only one year more to live. One can imagine Ashvapati's anxiety and confusion. Not only had his daughter chosen a man without wealth or power or prospects, but one without even the gift of long life. But Savitri's mind was made up. "A woman gives her heart only once," she declared.
The marriage took place. The royal princess went to live in the forest hut and looked after her husband and her parents-in-law with great devotion. Every one was pleased with her but no one realised the burden she carried in her heart. A couple of days before the appointed day of Satyavan's death she started observing a fast. On the fateful day, weak though she was, she sought permission to accompany her husband when he went to work.
In the afternoon Satyavan suddenly took ill and lay down with his head on her lap. Ominously the moments ticked away. Suddenly Savitri became aware of the presence of Yama. He whom nobody had ever seen was visible to her because of the power of her virtue. He politely told her that her husband's time was up and dragged his soul away. Savitri followed him through dense gloomy forests and refused to turn back though he repeatedly told her "Child, go back. Your time has not come yet."
Finally he offered her three boons but not the life of her husband.
Page 98
She asked for restored sight and restored kingdom for her father-in-law and heirs for her father. Yama agreed but she still did not turn back. Yama offered one last boon for herself as all her wishes had been for others, but not the life of her husband. She said she wished to see the happy and prosperous life of her sons. "So be it," said Yama unthinkingly. Savitri pointed out she could not have children without her husband. So Yama was tricked into restoring life to Satyavan.
Savitri's is a cherished name in India. Women observe fasts in her honour and pray for long life for their husbands. But as with all accomplished women in India, it is only her 'Pativrata' aspect that gets highlighted. This does not do justice to Savitri's many-sided personality.
She had the courage to be unconventional when she went out to seek her husband. She showed high spirited ness in opposing her father's will with her own. She showed fearlessness when she met Yama. She displayed generosity and large-heartedness in the boons she asked for. She gave so much to the household in which she had spent less than a year. She was the embodiment of all that men desire for themselves when they chant the Savitri or the Gayatri Mantra. She personified 'Dhi' or higher intelligence which in turn brings everything else know ledge, material and transcendental, courage, fearlessness. All this Ashvapati's daughter had. After all, the element she came out of was fire.'
The narration is not only simple and absorbing but is also pretty faithful, though the shades and emphases at times are unacceptable because of their extra-textual irrelevances; in it we immediately notice that the dharmic
Page 99
dignity is more of an ethical-religious kind than spiritual an element of preaching has entered in, which does not permit the revelatory truth in its dynamics to emerge In any case, this is a much better presentation than Kamala Subramanian's hurried assessment in her digested Maha bharata wherein she depicts Savitri as someone "who was able to outwit Yama the god of death by her wise talk and her devotion to her husband". Poor Yama! Nor does this make Savitri great. But why indeed ignore Savitri the tapasvini accomplished as she was in the Yoga of Meditation, dhyānayogaparāyanā, as the seer-poet tells us? People have made Savitri a social model. We may perhaps pardon Arthur Macdonell and John Dowson for this sin of theirs but not a good well-versed Indian. But first let us see how these Western authors give the Savitri-account in their brief introductions.
In A History of Sanskrit Literature MacDonell writes: "In the story of Savitri we have one of the finest of the many ideal female characters which the older epic poetry of India has created. Savitri, daughter of Asvapati, king of Madra, chooses as her husband Satyavan, the handsome and noble son of a blind and exiled king, who dwells in a forest hermitage. Though warned by the sage Narada that the prince is fated to live but a single year, she persists in her choice, and after the wedding departs with her husband to his father's forest retreat. Here she lives happily till she begins to be tortured with anxiety on the approach of the fatal day. When it arrives, she follows her husband on his way to cut wood in the forest. After a time he lies down exhausted. Yama, the god of death, appears, and taking Satyavan's soul, departs. As Savitri persistently follows him, Yama grants her various boons, always
Page 100
excepting the life of her husband, but yielding at last to her importunities, he restores the soul to the lifeless body. Satyavan recovers, and lives happily for many years with his faithful Savitri." The entry under "Savitri" in Dow son's Hindu Mythology and Religion has the following relevant material: "Daughter of King Aswapati, and lover of Satyavan, whom she insisted on marrying, al though she was warned by a seer that he had only one year to live. When the fatal day arrived, Satyavan went out to cut wood, and she followed him. There he fell, dying, to the earth, and she, as she supported him, saw a figure, who told her that he was Yama, king of the dead, and that he had come for her husband's spirit. Yama carried off the spirit towards the shades, but Savitri followed him. Her devotion pleased Yama, and he offered her any boon except the life of her husband. She extorted three such boons from Yama, but still she followed him, and he was finally constrained to restore her husband to life." If Savitri had claimed back from Yama Satyavan's spirit, it seems necessary to get back from these authors the spirit of Savitri in its multifold richness given to us by Vyasa. This is particularly important if we have to live in the splendour of Sri Aurobindo's Savitri which is at once a legend and a symbol.
But it is unfortunate that some scholars, though knowing its dignity well, should have freely romanticised the tale while narrating it to audiences in the West. Let us read, for instance, a passage from one such lecture to see how amusing it can be: "... Savitri didn't find anyone she thought was worth her attention until she came to a forest. In the forest there were some huts, and in one of them was a King who was dispossessed of his kingdom on account of
Page 101
his enemies getting the upper hand. He lost his sight and became blind, and, dispossessed of his kingdom and driven out of his territory, he was living in the forest outside his kingdom. The King and the Queen were, so to say, living in exile and their son was looking after them Savitri thought that this young man was really an ideal young man, so she decided in her mind to select him as her future companion. She came back from her travel to report to her father. And when she came back, Narada the great divine sage, was sitting with the King and Queen. They were talking when Savitri came. When the King asked her about her choice, she declared her choice and said that Satyavan living in the forest was the person whom she had selected. The King thought that it was quite right because it was her choice. But he asked the divine sage Narada: 'Cast this horoscope and see the position of the constellations in their future life and see whether this is happy'. So Narada cast the horoscope and said, 'Yes, it is all right. But there is one catch: this young man will die after one year. He is going to die after one year.' ...Savitri insisted that she was going to stick to her decision and take the consequences. The result was that they were married, and after one year the God of Death came and Satyavan died. But Savitri pursued the God of Death to his home in the upper regions or in whichever regions the dead go. And she persuaded him to release the soul of Satyavan. Satyavan was revived and they went back home." This may be a good story but it is not Vyasa's story as present in the original Mahabharata. It seems that the lecturer did not use the Sanskrit text but went by some secondary source when he introduced the legend to his American audience. Similarly, let us hear a part of another such
Page 102
version of the Savitri-myth. Yama has taken away the soul of Satyavan. "Savitri pursues the god of death and entreats him to return her husband; but he is adamant. As she follows, they come to a zone where there is a large river which no human being can cross. But by the sheer force of her purity of character she crosses the river, confronts the god of death, and prevails upon him to return her husband." Surely, these are not the versions used by Sri Aurobindo for his magnum opus,
It is true that there are any number of editions of the Savitri-legend, recounted differently in different regions, with local nuances adding to the confusion of interpretations. Poets of lesser caliber down the ages have often allowed fancy to run loose. The result is not very famous. If in one part of the country the day of Satyavan's death is observed to be the no-moon night, in another it is the full moon. These freehand exercises are often casual and Prakritic without the elevating sublimity of the Sanskritic and make the tale a puerile and insipid document of decadent practices. But when we are chiefly concerned with Sri Aurobindo's Savitri the safest thing to do is at least to follow Vyasa's original text. It has the dignity of substance, dignity of style, dignity of delight it has throughout a general overhead atmosphere. In it the idea seeds of the spiritual perception and truth-knowledge are golden and bright. Even if the tale is to be taken as a kind of précis of universal metaphysics put figuratively in the language of a myth, it is also a sufficiently elaborate symbol carrying in its living and expressive details the power of occult workings of the transcendental in the mortal world. The flame-charge of the symbol is too esoteric, too sacred to be profanised. About it Sri
Page 103
Aurobindo writes: "The tale of Satyavan and Savitri is recited in the Mahabharata as a story of conjugal love conquering death. But this legend is, as shown by many features of the human tale, one of the many symbolic myths of the Vedic cycle. Satyavan is the soul carrying the divine truth of being within itself but descended into the grip of death and ignorance; Savitri is the Divine Word daughter of the Sun, goddess of the supreme Truth who comes down and is born to save; Aswapati, the Lord of the Horse, her human father, is the Lord of Tapasya, the concentrated energy of spiritual endeavour that helps us to rise from the mortal to the immortal planes; Dyumatsena. Lord of the Shining Hosts, father of Satyavan, is the Divine Mind here fallen blind, losing its celestial kingdom of vision, and through that loss its kingdom of glory. Still this is not a mere allegory, the characters are not personified qualities, but incarnations or emanations of living and conscious Forces with whom we can enter into concrete touch and they take human bodies in order to help man and show him the way from his mortal state to a divine consciousness and immortal life." This mystic symbolism of the tale gets further corroborated by his remark made during a conversation of 3 January 1939: "I believe that originally the Mahabharata story was also symbolic, but it has been made into a tale of conjugal fidelity.... Satyavan whom Savitri marries is the symbol of the soul descended into the Kingdom of Death; and Savitri, who is, as you know, the Goddess of Divine Light and Knowledge, comes down to redeem Satyavan from Death's grasp. Asvapati, the father of Savitri, is the Lord of Energy. Dyumatsena is 'one who has the shining hosts.' It is all inner movement, nothing much as regards outward
Page 104
action. The poem [Savitri] opens with the Dawn. Savitri awakes on the day of destiny, the day when Satyavan has to die. The birth of Savitri is a boon of the Supreme Goddess given to Asvapati. Asvapati is the Yogi who seeks the means to deliver the world out of ignorance." Because it is the boon of the supreme Goddess, it has the sanction of the Supreme. It only means that great issues are presently involved in the creation and that they have to be dealt with by the transcendent Power acting in a decisive way. The operative phrase is "the day when Satyavan has to die".
Sri Aurobindo has revealed the importance of the Savitri-myth by saying that it belongs to the Vedic cycle. It is not just a great tribute, but is an assertion of the Divine Word expressing itself in a new manifestive glory here. The fact that its structural outline can hold the profundity and the wideness, the twofold infinity of his spirituality, is itself a recognition of the substantiality of its splendour. We must understand that, although it is a symbol, people moving in it are not algebraic substitutions of abstract characters, cartoon pictures jerkily portraying a cinematographic sequence; but they are dynamic personalities in flesh and blood shaping and fulfilling the drama of life: they are "incarnations or emanations of living and conscious Forces with whom we can enter into concrete touch and they take human bodies in order to help man..." The legend has therefore a certain historical basis as well, though may be not at one single point of space and time but spread over events in larger dimensions, yet all of them together unfolding the secret destiny. This is the Savitri we must accept and present and not the goody goody stuff that is often given to us by the pious sentiment.
Page 105
It appears that the title of the poem as Pativrata Mahatmya was provided by the compilers-authors of the Mahabharata when they neatly incorporated it as a tale in the huge and cumbersome body of the Epic; it should actually be called Savitri Mahatmya to bring out the glory of the Vedic cycle it recreates in a new milieu to recreate that milieu itself in its spirit. The Word of the Rishi has that power and its object is to set out the universal Truth in the working of man and his soul, to achieve through its mantric utterance a concreteness of reality triumphing over all that opposes it in the worldly affairs, that it be the vehicle of the highest dharma, of the inner movement finding its way in cosmic modalities. Savitri Mahatmya can therefore be appropriately proclaimed as the tale of a decisive divine action in this evolutionary unfoldment. If it is to be considered as a book, then it would qualify to be the precious lifeblood of a master-spirit.
When the poet becomes the seer and hearer of the Truth-Word, kavayah satyaśrutah, then through his creation we experience aesthetic delight of the spirit, we receive supreme revelation in a flame-body of the symbol he gives to us, a symbol that is more than an image. A good painter has two chief objects to paint, man and the intention of his soul says Leonardo da Vinci. A good poet adds to it the expressive power of the ineffable transcendent, coming in rhythms of its calm and silent delight. Such indeed is the Savitri given to us by the Rishi. Nowhere in English literature is to be seen such restrained dignity and such poetic completeness as we have in this little episode. The theme is universal, the poetry is epic, the style is impersonal and bare, the diction is simple and direct, hardly anywhere an uncommon simile or epithet;
Page 106
no rancour against fate, no mad elation in the victory; the self-confidence of the heroine giving a solidity to the narrative; brief phrases packed with contents that at once summarise the achievements of a whole life; everywhere and through the subtle nerves flow quiet streams that sing of the nobility and grandeur of imperishable values, death triumphant in their assertion; looks as though a well faceted diamond were stuffed with a rare splendour, sometimes blue-shimmering, sometimes creamy bright with an orange tinge, shining in its natural brilliance, as does the sun spreading its gold of radiance; no fetish of poetry offering "criticism of life", no abstraction of I'art pour I'art, no cerebration through a discovered objective correlative, nor any gushing of uncontrolled spontaneous feelings; its substance is spirit and its ethereality is material; the ends and the means fuse in one gleamingly suggestive manner; it has gains which need not be set against losses; death and life move in one fulfilment. Death indeed occupies a very large space in life, perhaps a disproportionately large space at the moment. That could be the entire meaning of things in this purposeful mortal creation, not a fixed settled unevolving glory or a spectrum of typal existences, but a quest to newer infinities that may come here and work themselves out in the unending Time's process. Death is truly an aspect of life, for it to become deathless life. That would remind us of Francis Thompson's lines from his Ode to the Setting Sun:
The fairest things in life are Death and Birth,
And of these two the fairer thing is Death.
But this is not crucified Christ as a setting sun giving his
Page 107
beauty to death; it is another Satyavan, arising out of death, and luminous in the everlasting day, that we see emerging from the legend. It answers more than Nachiketa's query to Yama: "A man who has passed, does he exist or does he not?" If he exists, then Yama is not all that powerful; if he does not, then how is he there with him? This perplexing situation becomes clear only when we assert that he does exist but is bound by Yama is under the sway of the Law of the mortal World. Death cannot dissolve him but can only cover him with a thick veil of darkness. As long as this death is there, thraldom is inescapable. Immortality of the soul is always incontingent, but its freedom or bondage, in life or after departure of the life-breath, depends upon the Yoga-Yajna performed on the earth. In the Aurobindonian interpretation of the Savitri-myth, even enlarging the original Vedic vision, this incontingency of soul's immortality has been fully claimed in life itself, thus making death dispensable, in fact as a starting prerequisite for the superconscient delight's existence here. That would make the operative phrase about the day when "Satyavan has to die" preciously significant.
To match with this mythic-symbolic substance is also its language. And the language of poetry has the supreme power to make that substance itself a living flame to set akindle in its splendour a rapturous heart. It bears with equal nobility the full sense of the aesthesis of the spirit. Not just the power of thought and artistic imagination but the power of a happy joyous expression, of saying what is at once seen and heard, the subtle truth-sight and truth audition carrying together their power of giving to matter a bright-lustrous manner, to substance a lucid and apt style, harmoniously calling and echoing each other, all
Page 108
that has come into dynamic play. In Vyasa's narrative we do not mark any climax or anticlimax, but there is a steady, almost unconcerned, flow from the source to its sea of calm emerald accomplishment. Where does this source of inspiration lie, this Hippocrene of the Mystic? In the overhead and not in the under-heart, not in the secret region behind the throbbing center of emotions, not in the psychic, but somewhere on the northern slopes of Mount Helicon, somewhere in the luminous hierarchies above the mind. The Word he receives that itself possesses in its fulgent intensity the tapasvin's austerity, snow-white and sublime in its grandeur. His sublime snow-white appears in thought, in phrase, in figure, in image, in idiom that is direct and extraordinarily bare in description. Truth, beauty, power are the elements of the classical art whose one supreme creator he was. Universal theme, tightness of presentation, trans-Longinian loftiness filled with the light of the sun make the myth a perfect expressive vehicle for the charge of the spirit. His was not a "dim religious light" in a Gothic cathedral, but a solar orb of golden mass spreading its radiance in the wideness of heaven. Alexander Pope's "there is a majesty and harmony in the Greek language, which greatly contribute to elevate and support the narration" is even more true for the ancient writers of India who used Sanskrit as the language of the gods, devabhāsā. While this devabhāsā lent itself to hymns and chants, to deep esoteric utterances, it also gave us revealing myths such as the victory of the Angirasas, or Indra's companionship with Kutsa, or the boons of Yama to Nachiketa, or the cosmic-transcendent strides of Vishnu. The very tongue is epic. Add to that epic majesty the power of mantra of the seer-poet and we have Vyasa's
Page 109
Savitri. All the attributes of the epic described in a text book are present in this poetry: noble, heroic, pathetic remorseful, tragic, lofty and benign, carried out in the greatness and sweep of a mind open to wider movements of speech and thought, bearing the rhythm of a dynamic life lived in the spirit, all in an astonishing perfection of the form. Savitri is a masterpiece in miniature. The story unfolds with the relentless force of a narrative. Bare, simple, direct, without embellishments, to the point everywhere, with casual mention of several qualities of the persons it is presenting, be it Savitri, or Satyavan, or Yama, or the King, or the Rishis of the Forest, whatever is needed is given with minimum detail. The scenes stand out vividly in front of us. The swiftness of flow is of the nature of a streamline, without whirlpools or turbulent patterns. The story begins by introducing Aswapati just in a couple of shlokas and proceeds rapidly from event to event. The manner of introducing Aswapati makes it subtly clear that there is some issue involved about which we should be deeply concerned. From the very word "go!" the tone is set:
Long ago in Madra there reigned a saintly king, devout and a follower of the dharma; he lived in the pious company of the Brahmins and of the great virtuous, and he was united with the truth, and had conquered the senses. Performer of Yajnas, presiding over charities, skilful in work, loved by the city dwellers and by all the people of his kingdom, one who was absorbed in the welfare of everybody, there ruled the Sovereign of the Earth, named Aswapati. Of a forgiving nature, one whose speech was truth,
Page 110
and who had subdued the senses, though he was so he had no issue; with the advancing of age this increased his affliction greatly.
With this confident ease the verses unroll and in their calm composed poise carry the poetry forward. The atmosphere is certainly not joyous-lyrical, but there is neither in it melancholy of the tragic though dealing with the theme of death in the blaze and youth of life. Its quiet gloom is filled with the warm shadow of the gods of heaven. There is everywhere the sense of sunlight diffusing in the darkness. The tears in mortal things gleam in the purity of a mountain-source and become pearl-drops aquiver with the life of the spirit. In the whole process the poet has accomplished an alchemic miracle. That is the power of mystic-spiritual poetry and Vyasa possesses it in full abundance. That is why the work endures across the spaces of time and does not get attenuated by exoteric considerations. When this power is absent, this power that comes from some deep and genuine fountainhead, also fails with it the creation, howsoever appealing it may look to a given temporal taste. The same substance, then, becomes pale and insipid, or turns into old wives' tale. This would immediately put in question Walter Pater's contention, though deserving a certain merit: "It is on the quality of the matter it informs or controls, its compass, its variety, its alliance to great ends, or the depth of the note of revolt, or the largeness of hope in it, that the greatness of literary art depends." But poetry is written, a la Mallarmé, not with ideas but with words. Substance all right, but more than that the creative word. The same matter, the same sublime myth, when retold by different
Page 111
authors, always does not go home.
Take, for instance, Romesh Chunder Dutt's rendering of the Savitri-tale; by way of example, let us compare the passage of the original with the verses of Dutt pertaining to Narad's prophecy of Satyavan's death:
"Whence comes she," so Narad questioned, "whither was Savitri led,
Wherefore to a happy husband hath Savitri not been wed?"
"Nay, to choose her lord and husband," so the virtuous monarch said,
"Fair Savitri long hath wandered and in holy tirthas stayed.
Maiden! speak unto the rishi, and thy choice and secret tell."
Then a blush suffused her forehead, soft and slow her accents fell!
"Listen, father! Salwa's monarch was of old a king of might,
Righteous-hearted Dyumatsena, feeble now and void of sight.
Foemen robbed him of his kingdom when in age he lost his sight,
And from town and spacious empire was the monarch forced to flight.
With his queen and with his infant did the feeble monarch stray,
And the jungle was his palace, darksome was his weary way.
Holy vows assumed the monarch and in penance passed his life,
In the wild woods nursed his infant and with wild fruits fed his wife.
Years have gone in rigid penance, and that child is now a youth,
Him I choose my lord and husband, Satyavan, the Soul of Truth!"
Thoughtful was the rishi Narad, doleful were the words he said:
"Sad disaster waits Savitri if this royal youth she wed.
Truth-beloving is his father, truthful is the royal dame,
Truth and virtue rule his actions, Satyavan his sacred name.
Steeds he loved in days of boyhood and to paint them was his joy,
Hence they called him young Chitraswa, art-beloving gallant boy.
Page 112
But O pious-hearted monarch! fair Savitri hath in sooth
Courted Fate and sad disaster in that noble gallant youth,!"
"Tell me," questioned Aswapati, "for I may not guess thy thought,
Wherefore is my daughter's action with a sad disaster fraught,
Is the youth Of noble lustre, gifted in the gifts of art,
Blest with wisdom and with prowess, patient in his dauntless heart?"
"Surya's lustre in him shineth," so the rishi Narad Said,
"Brihaspati's wisdom dwelleth in the youthful prince's head.
Like Mahendra in his prowess, and in patience like the Earth,
Yet O king! a sad disaster marks the gentle youth from birth!"
"Tell me, rishi, then thy reason," so the anxious monarch cried,
"Why to youth so great and gifted may this maid be not allied,
Is he princely in his bounty, gentle-hearted in his grace,
Duly versed in sacred knowledge, fair in mind and fair in face?"
"Free in gifts like Rantideva," so the holy rishi said,
"Versed in lore like monarch Sivi Who all ancient monarchs led.
Like Yayati openhearted and like CHANDRA in his grace,
Like the handsome heavenly ASVINS fair and radiant in his face,
Meek and graced with patient virtue he controls his noble mind,
Modest in his kindly actions, true to friends and ever kind,
And the hermits of the forest praise him for his righteous truth,
Nathless, king, thy daughter may not wed this noble-hearted youth!"
"Tell me, rishi," said the monarch, "for thy sense from me is hid.
Has this prince some fatal blemish, wherefore is this match forbid?"
"Fatal fault!" exclaimed the rishi, "fault that wipeth all his grace,
Fault that human power nor effort, rite nor penance can efface.
Page 113
Fatal fault or destined sorrow! for it is decreed on high,
On this day, a twelvemonth later, this ill-fated prince will die!"
Shook the startled king in terror and in fear and trembling cried:
"Unto short-lived, fated bridgroom ne'er my child shall be allied.
Come, Savitri, dear-loved maiden, choose another happier lord,
Rishi Narad speaketh wisdom, list unto his holy word!
Every grace and every virtue is effaced by cruel Fate,
On this day, a twelvemonth later, leaves the prince his mortal state!"
"Father!" answered thus the maiden, soft and sad her accents fell,
"I have heard thy honoured mandate, holy Narad counsels well.
Pardon witless maiden's fancy, but beneath the eye of Heaven,
Only once a maiden chooseth, twice her troth may not be given.
Long his life or be it narrow, and his virtues great or none,
Satyavan is still my husband, he my heart and troth hath won.
What a maiden's heart hath chosen that a maiden's lips confess,
True to him thy poor Savitri goes into the wilderness!"
"Monarch!" uttered then the rishi, "fixed is she in mind and heart,
From her troth the true Savitri never, never will depart.
More than mortal's share of virtue unto Satyavan is given,
Let the true maid wed her chosen, leave the rest to gracious Heaven!"
"Rishi and preceptor holy!" so the weeping monarch prayed,
"Heaven avert all future evils, and thy mandate is obeyed!"
Narad wished him joy and gladness, blessed the loving youth and maid,
Forest hermits on their wedding every fervent blessing laid.
Creditable and impressive as these couplets are, in them we also at once see the difficulty of the translator to
Page 114
render the majestic Anushtubha of the Sanskrit, with its quantitative basis of word-music and rhythm, into accented language which is so alien to the expression and spirit of the ancient seers and Rishis. Not only the substance and meaning, but also the measure and cadence of sound that is the soul of poetry defy translation from one medium into another. Romesh Dutt in this respect has succeeded in his endeavour in a way and it is no mean achievement to maintain it on such a long-sustained pitch and level. The song is vigorous and unstrained in its flow, with the natural ease of a streaming gusto. However, perfect as the verses are, they seem to roll out like well made fiats from a modern factory, absolutely identical in shape and size and in performance, even their nose-colour and engine-throb repeating flawlessly. The translation is, as Enid Hamer would say, "spirited and musical, but the lines show the same tendency as Tennyson's to break after the fourth foot, and the whole technique is very similar" to Locksley Hall. The couplet, with curtailed eight-foot lines, can easily be broken up into an eight-seven-eight-seven syllabic stanza in trochaic metre with the falling rhythm as, for instance, in the last couplet of the above quoted passage:
Narad wished him joy and gladness,
blessed the loving youth and maid,
Forest hermits on their wedding
every fervent blessing laid.
Sounds more like a ballad-run or a Marathi Lawani in its loud hilarious question-answer session, a folktale dealing through a social theme matters pertaining to men and gods and nature. The composition is more lyrical than epic
Page 115
and, like happy flying birds, cannot, by that very light ness, accommodate thought in its substance and in its dignity for it to deepen and strengthen those very feelings of the song. The coming of the calamitous event is made known quite cheerfully and quite bardically; to adapt a couplet from the above-quoted passage, we could say:
Ho! Ho! It is decreed on high,
Soon this ill-fated prince will die!
Not only are the reserves of sound absent, but even the contents robbed of their high genuineness, of their high purity and poise. The dhwani, the inner music of the language which gives to verses their poetry and which holds poetry together, is no more to be heard in it. We have to only listen to Vyasa and understand and appreciate what solid dense force he has put in that death sentence. A whole world of meaning and mystery is packed in the sixteen-syllabled announcement: Satyavan will in one year from today abandon his body, his life here expended, samvatsarena ksīnāyurdehanyāsam karisyati. The sentence is pronounced in the active voice and has the ring of authenticity of a marvellous power that judges and governs our life's many-wending ways, assuring that Satyavan has to die one year hence. It is brief and direct; there is no hue and cry, no sourness, no sentimentalism, no quarrel with anybody. Romesh Dutt gives us not Vyasa's Savitri but a Bengali Savitri; as Sri Aurobindo commented in a conversation, he portrayed her as weeping whereas in the original epic there is no trace of tears: "Even when her heart was being sawn in two, not a single tear came to her eyes. By making her weep, he took away
Page 116
the very strength on which Savitri was built." In his hand English has as if become another Indian vernacular. The moral is, the sixteen-syllabled Anushtubha cannot be converted into a trochaic fifteener howsoever close it may seem to the original. But, more importantly, it is the spiritual inspiration that here matters the most. Not that all great Sanskrit poetry is so, nor do all spiritual compositions give us such poetry; but Valmiki and Vyasa are at first poets as much as they are, unlike Kalidasa, Rishis and the underlying aesthesis of their poetry is overhead.
The first quality of this Rishi-hood we recognise in Vyasa is his wonderful sense of detachment, even while remaining in the midst of life's activities. His art, says Sri Aurobindo, "is singularly disinterested, niskāma; he does not write with a view to sublimity or with a view to beauty, but because he has certain ideas to impart, certain events to describe, certain characters to portray. He has an image of these in his mind and his business is to find expression for it which will be scrupulously just to his conception. This is by no means so facile a task as the uninitiated might imagine; it is indeed considerably more difficult than to bathe the style in colour and grace and literary elegance, for it demands vigilant self-restraint, firm intellectual truthfulness and unsparing rejection, the three virtues most difficult to the gadding, inventive and self indulgent spirit of man. The art of Vyasa is therefore a great, strenuous art; but it unfitted him, as a similar spirit unfitted the Greeks, to voice fully the outward beauty of Nature. For to delight infinitely in Nature one must be strongly possessed with the sense of colour and romantic beauty, and allow the fancy equal rights with the intellect." Romesh Dutt saw in Vyasa only that which is not in
Page 117
him and gave a vernacular version of it in a shout of sentiment.
Narad's proclamation of Satyavan's death is a great imponderable in the Savitri-myth. But what is clear is that it is Satyavan who is going to abandon his body and others are universal agents in the deep and occult play. There are conflicting forces, and there is fate, and there is the circumstance in the working of Time; yet the individual's freewill is the primary factor in moulding and shaping his destiny. Of course, very characteristically, Vyasa does not speak of these metaphysical factors in his little narrative, but it is neither the ill-fate nor the decree of the high that the sage is highlighting. He is making a very simple and plain statement, and true to the process of life, about Satyavan's own decision to leave this body. It is spoken of as dehanyāsa and not mrtyu, not meeting or falling to death but giving up the body. There is no helplessness or succumbing but in it a self-mastery and choice in freedom of life are indicated by the seer-poet. In fact, the connotation of dehanyāsa. Relinquishing of Body, as a profound voluntary act is almost Yogic and a great esoteric-mystic aspect of it is brought out through this fine truthful phrase. If we are to believe in the body-gestures, mudrās, nyāsas, as a part of the deistical worship, then giving up the body itself becomes a worshipping gesture in totality of renunciation.
If dehanyāsa is such a masterful phrase given to us by Vyasa, then we at once recognise the loftiness of his poetic conception achieved through a very highly developed art which becomes a vehicle for carrying the overhead inspiration. We have here an astounding result, a miracle indeed: not small or unworthy but large and serene and consistent in its quality is the idiomatic development
Page 118
suffused with and made enduring by another breath. In this creative and expressive aesthetic achievement not only inspiration and technique but the presence of things deep and wonderful, although at times seeming to be tragic and remorseful of life's failure, occupy a larger space in the poetry, giving to it its real value. In that way does the creator bring a satisfying completeness to Art, putting his own stamp of greatness on it. There is no doctrinaire approach, no fetish of a theory; but it is the work of a forceful artistic urge which finds the inevitable and inspired word to tell and assert the genuine experience it brings with it and embodies it in perfect form. A Johnsonian critic would be extremely happy with Vyasa, but he goes far beyond the Johnsonian canons and seizes in his line and metaphor the glowing intensity of a realised utterance. In him there is no tendency of massing of an effect; there is only the discovery of a dense word that releases from its warm rich womb multiple suggestions more in a vertical than horizontal direction. We may perhaps appreciate the merit of Vyasa's art better in terms of the values, and not mental conceptions, he upholds most. "Art is not only technique or form of Beauty," says Sri Aurobindo, "not only the discovery or the expression of Beauty it is a self-expression of Consciousness under the conditions of aesthetic vision and a perfect execution. Or, to put it otherwise, there are not only aesthetic values, but life-values, mind-values, soul-values that enter into Art... In Valmiki and Vyasa there is the constant presence of great Idea-Forces and Ideals supporting life and its movements which were beyond the scope of Homer and Shakespeare..." Thus more appealing, even gripping, than the actual death of Satyavan in the Shalwa wilderness
Page 119
is the grim prophecy of death made by Narad in Aswapati's palace at Madra. The phrase samvatsarena ksīnāyurdehanyāsam karisyati at the end of the year, life over, he will abandon his body has the rhythm movement of a wider world, coming from across the intuitive silences, which lends to the utterance itself a truth-force to effectuate what it says. But let us come to the death proper which is presented by the poet in a few quick and sharp matter-of-fact strokes, and all done in the bareness of colours that comes out of his niskāmabhāva, out of a sense of Yogic aloofness; not empathy but an intimate understanding of the universal spirit in a vastness of its working gives him this superb verse in which the joy of noble association with men and events is not missed. Satyavan is working hard in the forest, meaning to finish his job soon so that he could give a larger part of the. day to his beloved; but he suddenly feels exhausted and there is an unbearable ache, as if sharp steely spikes were being driven into his head. Yama appears on the spot exactly at the time as foretold by Narad, throws the noose, pulls out the soul of Satyavan and starts moving in the direction of the South. In the same steadfastness, Savitri follows Yama and accomplishes the miracle of gaining back her husband. There is no drama, no fuss, no tears, no fitfulness, no fury. What has to be has to be and is accepted in the life's abundant measure of fairness, carrying the hope and promise of its own rewards and boons. Assured possession of values makes the very calm of the poetry luminously powerful.
Compare this, for instance, with the death-scene of Cleopatra in which there is another kind of niskāma-bhāva. A Roman has vanquished a Roman and the stage
Page 120
is set for a lifeful suicide; the pretty worm of Nilus has arrived and its biting shall prove immortal. .Cleopatra must give it a royal reception:
Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have
Immortal longings in me: now no more
The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip...
...Methinks I hear
Antony call; I see him rouse himself
To praise my noble act; I hear him mock
The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men
To excuse their after wrath. Husband I come:
Now to that name my courage prove my title!
I am fire and air; my other elements
I give to baser life. So, have you done?
Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips...
Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall?
If thou and nature can so gently part,
The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch,
Which hurts and is desir'd...
...Come, thou mortal wretch,
With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate
Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool,
Be angry, and despatch.
There is nothing austere here; instead some imperial glow of life's passion illumines more than destroys the nobility that stands above death in death. There is tension and drama but it is so intense and so dramatic that it, by a strange mechanism, becomes totally impersonal. At once the breath of a tall life-god gathers into its oceanic lungs the power of a vibrant spirit, imperious in will and
Page 121
impatient in reaching the violent end, and yet acts in a sense of supreme abandonment. The poet in an exceptional moment of intuitive vitality has objectified the life of feelings without getting touched by those feelings. The subjective does not muddle up the objective. The song of saddest thought has in it the majesty of unconcern which makes it a song of sweetest cherishment. It is not the personality of the poet that we see in this poetry; what stands out is rather the great personality of a universal force that takes shape and emerges from this life-world in its unsurpassable creative urge. The purple anger is commanding, grand. Cleopatra had immortal longings and she fulfilled them through one life-stunning despatch of the infallible fool. But it was not Cleopatra who did it; it was some archetypal aspect of over-life that embodied itself and accomplished the death-and-life transcending wonder. If we are to see it in the reverse, then it looks as though the remarkable queen had no emotion but possess ed only the intent of doing and achieving something she had set out to do and achieve in the greatness of her queenhood, making that death too queenly great. She has immortalised a quintessential life-mood in concreteness of the terrestrial gain. To what we attune ourselves in this suicide-poetry is therefore the noble unconcern, niskāma bhāva, of the poet. He himself becomes impersonal, yet allowing the stream of some impetuous energy to flow through him. We do not get the joy, rasa, of the same detachment in, say, Duncan's murder in Macbeth's castle. Lady Macbeth wants to be unsexed and filled with direst cruelty, that with the help of murdering ministers, she would let a hell loose in her design of ghastly ambition. And the poet is true to the occasion, that the thick blood
Page 122
dripping from murderous hands could make a whole green sea red. Yet the dead body of Duncan, ugly and, mutilated by infamous agents, would not really frighten us; instead, it is made more living by the power of poetry. Still, this power is not splendid enough to lift it up from the royal couch that it may wear a beauty's face. Even the simplicity with its richly suggestive compliment in
After life's fitful fever he sleeps well
makes us doubt if indeed he slept well enough when the fever had run down. Poetic identification-mark of a total detachment is still not very distinct on this corpse's forehead. In that respect the Cleopatra-passage stands far above the Macbethan incarnadination. It is a supreme achievement of the poet becoming completely impersonal, a most difficult job in the riot and colour of life's million moods. The artist has portrayed a very violent event, but the unquietude does not seem to touch him. The object is not swallowed up by the subject and vice versa. He has taken hold of a skylark to pour all his unsung melodies and yet remained the grand witness Purusha of the ancient Indian psychology, a dispassionate judge who does not tamper with evidence in a complex case. Indeed, in a certain manner of speaking, we may say that no great art is possible without the sense of true detachment, not only classical but also dramatic and even romantic. Not only poetry but every art perhaps. Then the statue of the Buddha carved in a rocky mountain loses itself and becomes some infinity of calm, as does the marble Radha-Krishna in the Brindavan of Bliss. Monet's painting of his dead wife still in the bed also greatly belongs to this superior class.
Page 123
But the niskāmabhāva of Vyasa is altogether of a different quality than that of Shakespeare. He is a poet of men and empires and is seated in the midst of warring heroes and hears the loud deafening battle-cries; yet even in this rough-and-tumble his Rishihood remains rooted in the strength of the spirit's dynamic silence. The bright lustre of a steady fife glows in him everywhere, even while participating energetically in the dramatic action of the world; but he has the detachment of a true spiritual aesthete, "being steadfast and unshaken by even the heaviest of storms", as the Gita would say. That is why we see in Vyasa a constant presence of great Idea-Forces and Ideals supporting life and its movements. With that power he can become a moulder of a society and of a nation, things which are unquestionably beyond the capacity of Shakespeare. To put it in other words: Vyasa's sense of detachment is a Rishi's whereas Shakespeare's aesthetic vital; in the one niskāmabhāva has brought out soul values and in the other, by a kind of channellisation, life aspects.
In fact Vyasa's Savitri is a tria juncta in uno, written on three levels as a piece of poetic composition narrating a tale, the tale used to illustrate and establish truth-values in life, the legend and the myth taken on an occult-cosmic scale. A great luminous power of revelation is released by poetry when it becomes paradoxically the speech of sight and the image of sound seen and heard with subtle senses attuned to invisible and inaudible perceptions of things that are eager to take form of some flaming beauty in a body of truth borne by the authentic delight of a splendorous urge. In the tranquil receptive blank of the seer-poet the Word arrives from distant shores and delivers its
Page 124
riches that are carried to deeper interiors making them rich with its own wonders. When Vyasa speaks of Savitri as dhyānyogaparāyana — Adept in the Yoga of Meditation Satyavan as gunasāgara Ocean of Merit an epithet of Brahma himself Yama as pitrarājastām bhagavān — King-Father Lord the saints guiding the sun, upholding the earth, giving refuge to the three divisions of Time, and protecting the world, or the incantatory verses about the divine Savitri, or Savitri's growing like Goddess Fortune śrīrvyavardhata or the epic details like the bifurcation of the path in the forest at the group of palāśa trees, or Savitri's trembling with fear on hearing the cruel howling of the she-jackals, or the repeated assurance of the Rishis to the afflicted Dyumatsena, or the aphoristic utterances that abound throughout the narrative in all these not only do we perceive the overhead atmosphere pervading the poetry, making it also classically sublime, but there is as well the pure-white solidity of substance elevated to calm poised dharmic heights. Charged with several minute particulars as the tale is, a whole system of social philosophy can be, without much effort, gleaned from it. Take, for example, Aswapati as a king and as a father: he was saintly in nature, devout, and a follower of the dharma, lived in pious company of the Brahmins and the virtuous; he was engaged in performance of Yajnas, gave away great charities, ruled over his kingdom wisely and with skill and hard work and had the welfare of the state at his heart; he respected the elders and the learned; always accepted and followed, even in the extreme situations of life, the advice of the high-souled; considered as a part of his duty the continuance of the ancestral line important, basically for the performance of the dharmic sacrifices;
Page 125
attended to the upbringing of his daughter and arranged for her all-round development, thus fulfilling the fatherly responsibility; that Savitri was well-versed in the sacred lore and was highly qualified in logic, reason, speech and the rules of grammar, and was one who did all her actions in the serene poise even while holding the excellent tenets of life firmly, indeed certify how properly her parents had brought her up; Aswapati was of a forgiving nature, always spoke the truth and strictly observed self-control and good abstinence and gave himself to moderation; even when Narad made the prophecy of Satyavan's death, he remained unperturbed and accepted it as the will of the Supreme. Many other incidents that have come in the course of narration in this small tale also drive home well the nobility in which the ancients lived and pursued their high goals, not only on the earth but in life beyond too. And everywhere the master-torch is "infinite and lends a yonder to all ends" to use Meredith's phrase. In the vision and work of a Rishi man's twofold need always finds satisfaction in a most complete way. He maintains the harmony between the life of an ascetic and of a householder, each fulfilling the other. The aim is to achieve perfection in the world as much as in the state after death. The claim of the spirit and the claim of matter present no conflict to him. That was the Idea-Force which had urged Vyasa in this great creative endeavour; in it he did business with men and gods. To uphold dharma and social order is a working translation of the Gita's conception of lokasamgraha for the individual developing self consciousness in the dynamics of the day-to-day. Even though noble souls may suffer in the process, that itself, on participation in the endeavour, becomes their reward.
Page 126
The gods and the sages help mankind grow in the dharma, which is in fact the law of the inner being in perfect accord with spiritual truths. That is the work of supreme sacrifice, of the offering of the will-to-be, of the bright Yajna dear to the creator and to the builders of society cherishing enduring values. The foundation-stone is laid high above and it is on it that here the entire edifice is built down ward. Of this temple-tower Vyasa was one luminous builder. It was because he could possess the total sense of detachment, niskāmabhāva, that the impelling force came to him from the inherent potency of the Word which is not only descriptive but also injunctive and revelatory.
We may appreciate the significance of the injunctive aspect of the tale better from what Sri Aurobindo has written in a larger context regarding the old Vedic tradition that was carried forward by the poets of the Maha bharata and Ramayana. "The poets... wrote with a sense of their function as architects and sculptors of life, creative exponents, fashioners of significant forms of the national thought and religion and ethics and culture. A profound stress of thought on life, a large and vital view of religion and society, a certain strain of philosophic idea runs through these poems and the whole ancient culture of India is embodied in them with a great force of intellectual conception and living presentation. The Mahabharata has been spoken of as a fifth Veda, it has been said of both these poems that they are not only great poems but Dharmashastras... That which was for the cultured classes contained in Veda and Upanishad, shut into profound philosophic aphorism and treatise or inculcated in Dharmashastra and Arthashastra, was put here into creative and living figures, associated with familiar story
Page 127
and legend, fused into a vivid representation of life and thus made a near and living power that all could readily assimilate through the poetic word appealing at once to the soul and the imagination and the intelligence." The Savitri-tale is also written entirely in the same epic spirit and bears witness everywhere to the mission it purports to accomplish as a fine document of Dharmashastric ideals in moulding a social philosophy.
But of supreme importance beyond poetry and the concerns of society is the third term of tria juncta in uno bringing with it the revelatory power of the Word. It is said oftentimes that in the Veda the Word itself is the speaker and that it alone explains itself. We have to hear its sound in the deep hush of the heart and allow the meaning to emerge in the wideness of silent mind. If the tale of Savitri belongs to the glory of that Vedic attainment, then, surely, it too must be received in that very special way by which it was given. It possesses in its secret and esoteric symbolism the gleaming contents of a transcendental truth that has formulated itself by occult means seeking self-expression here. It is a pregnant legend delivering to us the profound mystery of existence in the world of death; it bears the breath of a superconscient wakened life that from every limb of the mortal creature may radiate the same immortality which it carries with it. But even if the tale is to be taken as a simple narration of a historical event which might have happened somewhere and sometime in the far legendary past, it yet escapes all association of space and time and assumes a permanent universal significance without losing touch with them in its and in their dynamics. The pragmatism is a recognition of the law of Life by Death through which Life sans Death
Page 128
should be possible. The dark riddle of the world may be complex but is certainly not insoluble and is, waiting for the conscious light to brighten it from within and from above. If in the enigmatic unforeseen there is a meaning, perhaps it has to be discovered in this possibility of an adventurous experiment in delight. Vedic parables are always rich in several hues of a basic truth-principle operating in the play of forces and have the power to actualise the realisable. Savitri belongs to these. And there is always the benign hand leading and guiding a true aspirant to his goal of sunlit immortality. Take, for instance, Rishi Kutsa who by his tapasya had become Indra's companion and favourite and had acquired such similarity with him that only a luminous perception could distinguish between them. About it Sri Aurobindo writes: "The human soul is Kutsa, he who constantly seeks the seer-knowledge, as his name implies, and he is the son of Arjuna or Arjuni. the White One, child of Switra the White Mother; he is, that is to say, the sattwic or purified and light-filled soul which is open to the unbroken glories of the divine knowledge. And when the chariot reaches the end of its journey, the own home of Indra, the human Kutsa has grown into such an exact likeness of his divine companion that he can only be distinguished by Sachi, the wife of Indra, because she is 'truth-conscious'. The parable is evidently of the inner life of man; it is a figure of the human growing into the likeness of the eternal divine by the increasing illumination of Knowledge." The Lady of the Rik, nārī, who could not distinguish between the God and the human Aspirant as they had grown one in likeness, sarūpā, has been suggested by Griffith to be Kutsa's wife; this interpretation can stand but hardly does
Page 129
it add anything spiritual to the contents and Vamadeva, the Rishi of the Hymn, would not have bothered to mention it. However, it is an interpretation which is far superior to Sayana's suggestion in which this Lady is taken to be Sachi; but that would immediately deprive her of the native truth-consciousness she always possesses. Indeed, though the human soul may grow in the likeness of the divine soul the two yet remain distinct, though one in identity yet separate. The individuality of the individual in the infinity of manifestation is a fundamental fact and, unless the soul decides to merge and go out of existence, ever remains so. Kutsa's taking a seat in Indra's chariot and accompanying him was in the pursuit of immortality and not for disappearance. The Kutsa-Indra parable belongs to the set of the two Vedic-Upanishadic birds on the same tree, or of Nara and Narayana of the Puranas,. or of the later-day Aitihasic human Warrior and the divine Avatar on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. Everywhere the soul, instead of losing itself in the oversoul, gets enriched in a shining and superior oneness as the first basis for carrying out its role in the divinity of manifestation to enjoy Truth and Light and Life's incontingent immortality. But if that immortality has to be functional in the wide terrestrial scheme, another cosmic-transcendental dimension of the infinite has to emerge. The Satyavan-Savitri myth has that suggestion in its lustrous Vedic symbolism. Satyavan's death is the death of the Immortal in this mortal creation whose travail he had come to bear that, through it, it be got changed into fullness of the fourfold beatitude. The arrival of the process of Time at the precise moment, the presence of Savitri as the executive Will behind this transformative action, and the granting of the
Page 130
boons as a sanction of the Supreme have as if designedly come together to accomplish this exceptional miracle. The birth of Goddess Savitri as Aswapati's daughter in response to his ardent prayer born out of intense tapasya of eighteen years, Narad's prophecy of Satyavan's death at the end of one year of the marriage, getting back the soul of Satyavan fit to do her work on the earth, as Yama had told Savitri, and their taking the path towards the north at the bifurcation near the group of palāśa trees are greatly connotative of momentous happenings. There is no doubt that, in his far-reaching intuitive vision, the Rishi saw all these as a clear image of the sun in a tranquil lotus-pond at the foot of the ancient Hill. That makes the poetry too as marvellous.
Aswapati had offered every day a hundred-thousand oblations to divine Savitri with the objective of receiving a boon from her to have several sons for the continuance of the holy Yajna. The boon is granted, but he is told that he would get an effulgent daughter and that he should not have any hesitation in accepting it. Already a high intention is seeded in the tale and the events have to develop with assured rapidity towards the unrevealed purpose and end. Again, most unexpectedly, Narad comes and makes an announcement of Satyavan's death exactly one year since then: samvatsarena ksīnāyurdehanyāsam karisyati. A luminous imponderable has appeared on the scene and Narad, perhaps "concealing the truth with truth", declares of it in a very definite way. He does not cast the horoscopes of the two young souls and mark the conjunction of the stars to foretell their future. Instead, carrying the knowledge that only one year is given to them, a mighty force is put by him in the decision Savitri has already
Page 131
arrived at; he had come to "steel" her will. But why one year? Is it a mystery to the sage as well as to the seer-poet? Or do they have the sure intuition of a higher working which prompts them to state it so? The period of one year, namely, one full cycle of seasons in the earthly time, is very pertinent for the great purpose of the story; so also the exact hour and moment of death which Savitri reckons when Satyavan is about to die in the forest. But the year is symbolic and the hour is symbolic. About it Sri Aurobindo tells: "... in the Puranas the Yugas, moments, months etc. are all symbolic and it is stated that the body of man is the year." Therefore abandonment of the body, dehanyāsa, at the end of the year, samvatsara, is the abandonment of the year itself. Satyavan leaves the scales of time and steps into some larger dimension where death would have no hold on him. If this is true, then we be^in to see the power of spiritual poetry with its occult and living symbolism; we also begin to appreciate how the poet is consistent everywhere in his descriptions and notations obviously because it is not by the method of ratiocination that he reaches it, but it is by direct spiritual contact, by the truth-sight that he sees the whole thing in one single wide glance. Equally significant is the mention of the group of palāśa trees; again, the poet is not simply luxuriating here in epic details for the satisfaction of some aesthetic demands. The point d'appui is the significance of the flower of this tree, not the botanical Butea Frondosa, not even the very poetic and appealing Flame of the Forest, but what the Mother sees as the Beginning of the Supramental Realisation. Satyavan asks Savitri to take the path turning towards the north at the group of palāśa trees, north, uttara, conveying again not only the northern
Page 132
but also the upward direction, superior, surpassing, excel ling in every merit:
Near the group of palāśa trees the path bifurcates and moves in two different directions, take the one which leads to the north, but now speed up —
tells Satyavan to his timid as well as pretty and bright wife, bhīrū, śubhā, asking her to hasten the pace for reaching the hermitage without further delay, to join the parents and the Rishis.
Page 133
Home
Disciples
Books
Share your feedback. Help us improve. Or ask a question.