Markandeya said, “And so saying, the sage among the gods rose up into the sky to heaven. The King for his part accepted his daughter’s choice and the judgment of the saint. And so it was that King Ashwapati went about making preparations for his daughter’s wedding.”
नारायणं नमस्कृत्य नरं चैव नरोत्तमम्
देवीं सरस्वतीं चैव ततो जयम् उदीरयेत्
Michael Dolan, B.V. Mahāyogi
Story of Savitri: Part Two
And so it was that King Ashwapati on an auspicious day set forth with his daughter to make the nuptial arrangements. He gathered the brahmanas, the wise men and sages of the court and went with his daughter into the sacred forest. And after some time on foot they arrived at the ashrama of Dyumatsena, the old blind king.
Finally they saw a great Banyan tree whose branches stretched to the sky. And beneath the canopy of leafy branches at the foot of that tree sat the blind King in meditation on a mat made of kusha straw. The old man could hear footsteps although he could see no one. And folding his hands in reverence, he said, “Who’s there? What brings you to this part of the forest? You are welcome here in this ashram. Satyavan,” he said, calling for his son, “Bring our guests sitting places and water.”
Savitri could see the blind king’s son, the handsome prince, as he offered sitting places and water to all. He was indeed a fine man.
“My hospitality is humble,” said the old blind king. “But please make yourself at home. How can I serve you?”
And King Ashwapati replied, “Your hospitality is more than sufficient. We come in peace on a noble mission.” And bowing low, he said “Accept my humble obeisances.”
Dyumatsena the blind said, “I can tell from your accent that you are noble. Please tell me the purpose of your visit. Ask anything, and I shall surely grant it if I can.”
As she spoke to Dyumatsena, Ashwapati looked at Satyavan, who attended his father, “This my daughter, Savitri,” he said. “It is my wish that you accept her as wife to your son. The old blind King said, “you are indeed noble, but how can we accept such an offer? Here we have no Royal Palace. We live humbly. These trees are our only shelter. We have been forced from our throne. We sit on mats of straw, not silk cushions. We wear humble garments. How could we make a proper home for such a fine lady? The forest is a place of hardship, of simple living and high thinking. How could she dwell here with us?”
King Ashwapati replied, “My daughter is wiser than she appears. She knows that both happiness and sorrow are temporary; they come and go in the course of our human existence. You were once a great King who lived in luxury and are now living simply with only the trees and the stars for a roof. Wealth and poverty come and go; my daughter has no interest in material things. And as she is noble minded she will make a fine match for your son Satyavan, who is dedicated to seeking the truth and living simply.”
Ashwapati said, “Therefore please accept Satyavati as your daughter-in-law and as the wife of your son Satyavan.”
And Dyumatsena said, “To tell you the truth, I had always thought that your daughter would make a fine match for my son. But I hesitated, thinking of my lowly station, now that I have been deprived of my kingdom. Now that you come to me and friendship I can see that my wish shall be fulfilled. If Satyavan will your daughter, then let them be joined in matrimony. And let us be friends.”
And so it was those priests gathered there in the forest bound the royal houses of Dyumatsena and Ashwapati in matrimony. The union of Satyavati and Satyavan was celebrated with the ritual fire sacrifice, and the appropriate mantras recited. The King Ashwapati gave his daughter fine robes and golden ornaments, and she was wed as befits a princess. All rejoiced.
Satyavan was a humble man, but he was glad to have such a fine wife. Ashwapati returned home in great short, and Satyavati rejoiced that her wish had been granted. She had married her soulmate. She had chosen her own husband. He was humble but virtuous. When her father had departed, she stripped off her fine robes and golden ornaments and dress herself in rough cloth. She endeared herself to everyone in the ashram by her service, her sweet words, and kindness. She took care of her father-in-law the old blind King and listened carefully to his instructions. She spoke with words of honey to her husband, and was pleasing in word and deed. She was even-tempered in public, and loving in private. And so it was, O son of Bharata, that she lived in that ashram in the woods with Satyavan, in great peace, dedicating herself to the simple life.
And yet, as she lived her life in love and holiness, from time to time she remembered the words of the saint among the gods Narada: “Alas, for Satyavan’s days are numbered.” And she would become sorrowful. The moons came and went and the earth circled round the sun and the day of doom approached.
The pleasant days had come and gone and the hour of death came closer for Satyavan. And the words of Narada echoed in Savitri’s mind. “He will live 12 months; no more.”
At last the day arrived. Savitri had kept a careful count of days. She knew that her husband would die on the fourth day of the moon. And knowing this she began to fast and observe the vow of Triratra, which is extremely austere. She would fast for three days and three nights.
When he learned of this, her father-in-law said, “Oh Princess, why are you practicing such extreme hardship? It grieves me to know that you have undertaken such a vow.”
Savitri said, “Please do not worry dear father. I have grown accustomed to such austerity. Perseverance brings success in the observance of vows. I gave my word and I shall keep my vow.”
And her father-in-law said, “Very well my dear. If you have given your word you must keep your vow.”
And so it was that fasting and fasting Savitri wasted away. She was as thin as a stick of wood. Three days came and went. When the third night passed and brought the morning, she rose early. She bathed and lit the sacred fire before the altar. She offered her respects to all. She came and bowed before the wise blind king, her father-in-law. And then she bowed before his wife the queen. With folded hands she offered her obeisances to the gray-haired brahmanas present and asked their blessings that she would not be a widow. And before the holy fire, those saints and sages blessed her that she would not be a widow in her lifetime.
And knowing that she had been fasting for three days her father-in-law n-law invited her to break her fast, saying, “You have kept your vow. Come, my daughter, eat.”
But Savitri said, “ I have completed my vow, but I will eat when the sun goes down. We shall all eat together this evening.”
For his part, Satyavan was on his way to the words, carrying his axe on his shoulder. In the mornings he would go to the forest to cut firewood. But Savitri stopped him saying, “Don’t go into the woods alone today. Let me go with you.”
And Satyavan said, “Why should you go to the woods? These paths are dangerous and too rough for your tender feet. Besides, you were weak from fasting. How will you keep up with me?”
“My fast has refreshed me,” she said. “Don’t leave me alone. I need to be with you today. I have made up my mind.”
“So be it.” He said. “But let’s ask permission.”
They went to the king and queen. And Savitri once again bowed before them and said, “Satyavan is going to the forest to cut firewood and gather fruits and flowers. I know it seems unusual, but today I wish to go with him. Please allow me. It’s been so long since I have taken a walk in the blossoming woods.”
The blind king heard the trembling voice of his daughter-in-law. He knew she must have some deep purpose. And so he spoke, “It has been a year since the wedding. And all this time, my daughter-in-law has served us well. She is not spoken so much as a harsh word. Let her do as she wishes.” He smiled. “Go my child; take good care of Satyavan and help him gather many flowers and fruits in the blossoming woods. Return here with firewood that we may keep the sacrificial fire lit.”
Having received permission, Savitri smiled graciously and took her leave of the King and Queen along with Satyavan who carried his axe on his shoulder. And that lotus-eyed princess went with her husband into the blossoming woods. But while her face was bright, her heart was heavy, for she knew that Satyavan’s time had come.
As they passed through those charming woods the peacocks fled the path before them. They passed the sacred river whose currents carried lotuses. As the mist lifted with the early sun, the jasmine bloom perfumed the morning air. And Satyavan said, “Behold the opulence of the Lord. God is everywhere, in the fragrance of the flowers, the light of the sun, and the crystal waters of the sacred river.”
And Savitri smiled and beamed, but her shining face hid the sorrow of her aching heart, for she knew that every step drew them nearer to Satyavan’s final moment. “Where was death hiding?” she thought. “Behind the next tree, or perhaps in the bowers of jasmine blossoms only minutes ahead?”
She looked at Satyavan and calculated the time according to the sun. He stopped where woodland fruits did grow. Together they plucked the fruits and filled the basket. He found the fallen branches of an old tamarind tree and with his axe he chopped the wood in finer pieces. And as he swung his axe with his powerful arms, his brow began to sweat. He rested the axe against a tree.
Satyavan said, “I’ll stop a bit. Suddenly I feel weak.”
He sat. “My head aches,” he said. “I feel a great weight pressing on my heart. My arms throb. I feel as if my head were pierced with arrows and my limbs were on fire. Let me rest a bit.”
And lying down, he said, “I’ll sleep a while.”
She sat next to her husband on the ground as he slept and placed his head upon her lap. She thought of the words of Narada and calculated the time, to the hour and the minute and the moment.
Satyavan’s time had come.
All at once a strange figure appeared before clad in red. On his head was a crown. He was huge; a giant, fiery as the sun. Yet while he glowed, his complexion was dark. His eyes were red and shined like burning coals. In his hand he carried a rope coiled in a hangman’s noose.
“I am Death.” He said. “My name is Yama.”
नारायणं नमस्कृत्य नरं चैव नरोत्तमम्
देवीं सरस्वतीं चैव ततो जयम् उदीरयेत्
Michael Dolan, B.V. Mahāyogi
Story of Savitri: Part Three
Death Meets a Lady:
Savitri and Yamaraja
"Who are you,¨ said Savitri?
“I am Death. I come for Satyavan. His numbered days have run out. I shall bind his soul in my noose and remove him from this world.”
The shadowy form fixed his gaze upon Satyavan as he came closer with his noose. The Princess folded her hands and kneeled before him.
Yama said, “You are a faithful wife, O Savitri. You are always true to your vows, pious, and dutiful. Do not be afraid for your time has not come. But your prince, here will leave this world now. I shall bind his subtle body and take him from life. It is my duty.”
“Forgive me sir,” she said, “But I have heard that the Lord of death has messengers called the Yamaduttas, who serve his purpose. It is their duty to come for us mortals when we die and fetch us away to the next life. Why then are you here? Why come in person?”
And Death said, “He was an unparalleled prince. I did not send my messengers for him. He deserved better.”
He dangled his noose above the prince’s heart until a subtle body began to emerge, a mere thumb in length. This he trapped within his noose as a spider traps an insect in his web. And binding Satyavan’s vital essence, Death withdrew.
Savitri held her Prince within her arms. The Prince looked pale. His breath had stopped. His skin was cold as stone. His grace was gone. His lifeless heart beat no more. Savitri saw the shade of death bearing the shining essence of Satyavan in his silken noose. She arose and followed, leaving the stony cadaver.
Walking southward, the Shadow of Death bore the Prince’s soul trapped in his noose. Savitri was afraid. Her heart fluttered like a tiny bird flapping her wings. And yet, her purity made her bold. She followed Death towards the South.
“Wait!” she said.
And Death turned.
“Go back,” he said. “Pay him his funeral rites.”
But still, she followed.
 |
| "Turn Back!" |
“Turn back,” he said. “You may follow me no farther.”
And Death began to wander further South. He entered a strange part of the woods that she had never seen before. All was quiet. She hadn’t noticed how the time had passed. The Sun was beginning its decline. The afternoon had faded.
“Stay awhile.” She said.
And Death turned again. “You may come no farther. Follow me at your own peril. I shall now travel towards the underworld where no mortal can go. Turn back.”
And Savitri said, “Wherever my love goes, I shall follow. Wherever my Prince is borne I shall go. This is my duty and my vow. I have never broken a vow. My word is true. I have no other duty than to serve him. This is Sanåtana Dharma. And if he travels to the land of death, I shall follow. My service to my guru stands for nothing if I cannot practice my vows.”
“Go back. There is nothing for you here.”
“The sages teach that if you walk seven steps with another, you become friends. We have now walked together quite a ways. I do not know this place. But now that we have walked together, we are friends, you and I.”
“RETURN!”
Savitri was firm. She said, “Allow me to recite two verses in Sanskrit before I leave you:
नानात्मवन्तस् तु वनेचरन्ति॑
धर्मं च वासं च परिश्रमं च |
विज्ञानतो धर्मम् उदाहरन्ति॑
तस्मात् सन्तो धर्मम् आहुः प्रधानम् ||२४||
nānātmavantas tu vane caranti;
dharmaṃ ca vāsaṃ ca pariśramaṃ ca
vijñānato dharmam udāharanti;
tasmāt santo dharmam āhuḥ pradhānam
एकस्य धर्मेण सतां मतेन॑
सर्वे स्म तं मार्गम् अनुप्रपन्नाः |
मा वै द्वितीयं मा तृतीयं च वाञ्छे॑
तस्मात् सन्तो धर्मम् आहुः प्रधानम् ||२५||
ekasya dharmeṇa satāṃ matena;
sarve sma taṃ mārgam anu-prapannāḥ
mā vai dvitīyaṃ mā tṛtīyaṃ ca vāñche;
tasmāt santo dharmam āhuḥ pradhānam
Be thou master of your own self;
If you would follow the path of dharma.
Seek truth, live simply, control the mind; Do this:
Wherever you live or work, do good.
The science of true dharma is this:
Wise men know that dharma is bliss.
And dharma is chastity, wisdom, wimple living,
And above all this: surrender.
(Mahābhārata, Vana-Parva, 3.281.24-25)
Savitri said, “There is really only one path of dharma. (ekasya dharmeṇa satāṃ matena) Others say there is the twofold path, or the threefold path. This is good. One may follow the four ways of dharma, by offering charity, being truthful, maintaining chastity, and leading a clean and simple life. This is good. Mercy (or Charity), Cleanliness, Chastity, and Truth are the four-fold path of dharma. (This is worshipful).
“We know that violence to living creatures and flesh-eating destroy charity and mercy. Gambling and speculation destroy truth-seeking. Unfaithful sex destroys chastity. And intoxication destroys clean living. The threefold and fourfold paths of dharma are good. mā vai dvitīyaṃ mā tṛtīyaṃ ca vāñche)
Savitri said, “And yet even greater than all these religious principles is the idea of surrender, prapanna. (sarve sma taṃ mārgam anu-prapannāḥ ) The highest path is surrender to God. This is the greatest truth I know. This is what the saints call dharma.”
She looked at the dark figure who held the soul of her husband in his noose and said, “Now that I have walked with you on the path, I tell you this as a friend. This is what I have learned.”
And Death turned to her and said, “Fair Lady. Enough. I have taken many souls from this world to the next. None have offered me friendship. My task is cold. No one speaks to Death with such sweet words as these. I am moved. Your fine words are proper and correct. Ask me anything. Except for the life of your husband, I shall give you whatever you like.”
Savitri said, “My father-in-law is just and wise. While he is a king, he lives in the forest like a saint. And yet he is blind. Restore his sight, that he may see the blossoming woods and the crystal waters of the holy river. Let him be strong and healthy again.”
And Death said, “So be it. And yet I see you are weary with fasting. You are tired with your journey. Go home now to your father-in-law. Even now his sight has been restored.”
But Savitri said, “As long as I am near my husband I feel no fatigue. Wherever you are taking him I shall follow. Very few understand dharma as you do. I am glad of your company. Take me with you.”
“Your words move me, Princess.” Said Yamaraja, Lord of Death. “You are as wise as you are fair. Ask again. You have been too generous. You asked for your father-in-law. Ask something for yourself. Ask anything except the life of Satyavan. What else can I give you?”
And Savitri said, “My father-in-law lost his kingdom and was exiled. Restore his kingdom to him, for he is a wise ruler and would do much good to his citizens.”
“So be it.” Said Death. “Your father-in-law’s kingdom is restored. Even now messenger are arriving in the forest with the news. And still you ask nothing for yourself. Ask again. But do not ask for the life of your husband.”
“Then let me have a hundred children born of Satyavan; let them be strong and healthy and live a long life.”
“So be it,” said the Lord of Death. “Now go. Return to your father-in-law and live in peace. He awaits you now, his sight and kingdom restored. Follow me no longer into the world of darkness.” He continued on his path, still holding the soul of Satyavan, trapped within his noose. “Leave me.”
But Savitri persisted. “O god. O Yama, my friend, Death. The eternal duty of good souls is compassion towards the others. We should never injure others in thought or deed but treat them with love and kindness.”
And Death said, “Yes, this is a lesson that many never learn. I want to bid you farewell, and yet your words are like honey.”
Savitri said, “Many are cruel. They have neither truth nor devotion. And yet the good show them compassion.”
They walked on a bit further. It was getting darker. The sun could no longer be seen through the treetops. The shadows thickened.
“Return,” said Death. “It is time.”
Savitri said, “Here, by my husband’s side I have lost track of time. We have passed so little time together. A year has passed and it seems only a day. I know you have prohibited me from asking you a favor, but I am only a woman.”
Death paused, dangling his noose. “Woman, you are wise. Ask again, but guard your words.”
“You are the son of Vivasvat and are called Vaivasvata. You give justice equally to all and are known as Yamaraja, the lord of Justice. No one is as true or righteous as you. The earth rejoices as the righteous pass, for they are the protectors of all. I asked for sons and you have granted my wish. But how can I have sons without my husband? What righteousness is there in raising a hundred sons if they have no father? Without my husband I have no life, even with a hundred sons. He is my prince. How can I leave him now, bound in your noose, to wander into the next life? You grant me a hundred sons but take away their father. How can this be righteous? Therefore, O righteous one, I ask you now for a great favor. I ask you for an incomparable boon. Restore my husband’s life. If my vows have been fulfilled, if I have done any service to my guru, please, restore Satyavan to life.”
Never before had Death seen such a saintly woman speak so sweetly and with such reverence. Never before had a plea been made with such grace and righteousness. Never before had Death been addressed with such friendship and erudition by a fair and gentle princess.
“So be it,” said Yamaraja, the Lord of Death. With this, he loosened the noose that held Satyavan’s soul in limbo.
“O auspicious and chaste lady.” He said, “Your husband is freed. He shall attain success. Along with you he shall live a long life of fame and fortune and together you shall have a hundred sons. These kshatriyas with their sons and grandsons shall also be famous kings. Your father also shall beget a hundred sons upon your mother Malavi. They shall be known as the Malavas and history will remember their names for thousands of years.”
With this, Death departed for his abode and the shadows lifted. It was not night at all. The sun was still high in the sky. Savitri returned to the place where Satyavan’s ashen body lay. She sat next to him and again took his head on her lap. Satyavan moaned and turned over. He blinked. His cheeks were rosy as his color returned. He sighed. At once, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he smiled. Awake at last, he looked at Savitri and said, “How long have I been asleep?”
“Just a moment, my dear,” she said. “You took a little rest from chopping wood. Now we must hurry and finish collecting the firewood before the sun goes down.”
“Yes, I remember now,” said Satyavan. “I had a headache and rested. Let us return now with what wood we have, for my father will miss us if we arrive late.”
And so Satyavan and Savitri gathered their basket of fruits and flowers along with the wood that Satyavan had chopped and began the long way home.
