Marisha:
Do I hear people talk, sir?
Suryadatta:
It is the childless King Asvapati and the goddess Savitri who appeared to him from out of the sacred fire.
Marisha:
Did the poor king not beget children?
Suryadatta:
Unfortunately, no, if I may say ‘unfortunate’, when one has such a divine patroness.
Marisha:
Maybe, Asvapati insulted the gods. Or, has he gravely sinned in a former life?
Suryadatta:
He, rich in virtues, is the king of Madra, who devotedly discharges his royal duties. He is merciful and full of piety, truthful, master of the senses, ready to make sacrifices and is deeply loved by his people. But Asvapati is childless and not in his youth anymore. He took upon himself great penance for begetting children, making sacrifices to goddess Savitri, the daughter of Surya, a thousand-fold times. So, he lived for eighteen years a life of austerity to please Savriti. Then one day she turns on him her eyes of mercy. Rising out of the sacred fire she appeared before him.
PROLOGUE
Now the palm-frond screen profusely decorated with flowers opens.
Suryadatta has curtained the stage soberly and plainly with soft-coloured cloths,
So that it will not fetter fantasy in its flight;
A seat and a few cushions, are all that may distract attention.
On the seat sits Asvapati;
He stands up and curtsies slowly to the Goddess Savitri and kisses
Her heavenly-blue, cloudlike cloth.
Goddess Savitri:
Grace shall be yours, Asvapati, King of Madra, I will grant you a boon. You have been so unrelenting in your worshipping of me. Choose whatever you want but do not choose what is unjust or goes against your duties.
Asvapati:
O, Radiant Goddess, bestow on me sons who will perpetuate my lineage. Is not perpetuation of one’s blood the sacred duty of every Arya?
Goddess Savitri:
By Brahma’s grace there will be born a child to you, not a son but a girl of great beauty and virtue. Do not ask for more, let this blessing be enough.
The king, overjoyed, has the sacred rituals performed. Savitri ascends again to heaven, the screen silently closes.
Suryadatta speaks now to Marisha.
Suryadatta:
A year later, preceded by all the signs of good fortune, a daughter is born just as it was foretold.
Since it was Goddess Savitri who had bestowed it, he called the child Savitri.
And this daughter grew to be a girl of heavenly beauty:
Small of waist, broad in the hips, like a golden statue
Of the Goddess Sri3 herself: A celestial devi …
But no man sought the lotus-eyed to become his wife.
Dazzled by her divine being, men were daunted.
In a short while, she, with anointed hair, will bring flower-offerings to the gods,
And what remains of the flowers she will offer to the king.
She kisses her father’s feet and happily offers him her beautiful flowers.
The king looks at the beautiful girl full of grace and goodness,
But no man has offered yet to marry his daughter and he is deeply saddened.
Marisha:
I will go, sir, to prepare myself for this play of a Princess of such beauty. It is not just Bharata4 who created her. She, the beautiful Savitri, Asvarpati’s daughter, is Mahabharata’s greatest jewel.
Now the strains of the veena, turti and the ravanastha whisper softly, sounding like the feet of nymphs dancing on echoing bridges that arch over the Ganga of heaven in the celestial world. The lovely tender melody laments in its plaintive vibration, and swells into a youthful glow, as if the goddess can barely contain the love within her bosom and cajoles and tantalises, and teases and laughs and enlivens life with her impudence.
Suryadatta:
The king speaks!
The screen fades away
I
Asvapati:
Now that you are grown up and are mature, it is time to marry, my child, but no one has come to claim your hand. So, proceed on your own and choose the spouse you feel is worthy. I know you will choose well.
The sacred books of the Brahmins teach that the father who does not give his daughter a good husband in time, a husband who loves his wife, is to be reproached, just as a son would be if he did not take care of his mother after his father’s death.
Therefore, go forth and look for a spouse as I have told you to, so that the wrath of the gods will not strike me down. I will take care about who will accompany you on your journey and be your counsellors …
The beautiful young maiden, blushing sweetly, bows low before her father.
The King calls in the wisest of the counsellors and tells them what he desires.
Savitri starts dressing up for the journey. The golden chariot approaches.
…Bells ring, small chimes tinkle while the talan5 rings.
A beautiful conversation unfolds, not learned but developing from the
Fullness of their art, in an ambience so true that
The audience sees Savitri, the king and the counsellors as if they are real.
The counsellors pay heed and hear how conflicting it is, in the mind of the king,
The conflict between the love for his child and the strong desire for offspring.
This is expressed in the play, in its tone and the choice of words.
Savitri now comes back, arrayed for a journey. Her youth, her spirit is radiant,
Which all behold with admiration.
Pearls are shining in her dark hair. A jasmine-white dress of the
finest of muslin swells under her pink cloak,
Wrapped carefully on her by a servant. And even as the karna6 trills
its music when the caravan sets off,
The richly decorated chariot and its strong guard proceeds to the forest.
The sound of the bells and the beat of the talan fade away in the dense jungle.
Soundlessly, the curtain is closed.
II
When it unfurls again,
Suryadatta:
For many months now King Asvapati is waiting!
Asvapati is seated, pondering and in distress, for Savitri has not returned yet from her journey.
Asvapati:
Has she encountered danger in the forest? Or, has the journey failed? Why is it that she is tarrying?
Then, unannounced, the Muni Narada7, the celebrated sage, the adviser of the gods, comes visiting the palace. He greets Asvapati. The king rises reverently and welcomes the rishi warmly. After refreshing himself and enjoying a simple meal, Narada seats himself before Asvapati. At that very moment Savitri returns home in her golden chariot, back from her far-away journey. With loving reverence, she greets first the rishi, then her father.
Narada:
On whatever travels did the daughter of the pious ruler go? Whence does she come that her countenance is so joyful and her cheeks are blooming thus? But for what reason has the king not yet bestowed a spouse?
Asvapati:
That is the reason why my unrest grew and why she in the end went forth on this journey to seek a spouse. And now, she comes back today. So listen to her, O, Rishi, and hear about the one whom she has chosen by herself to be her spouse.
Narada looks at her, full of admiration. The beautiful girl laughs, smiling up at him.
Narada:
Well then, do speak, you noble daughter of a king who discovered so late your spouse.
Savitri:
I wandered about from place to place, from forest to forest, through the whole world where sons of kings live. I have paid reverence as taught by my father, to the ever-meritorious elderly. I offered alms and goods to the poor and to the Brahmins. But nowhere did I find the one for whom my heart was searching. In the end I neared a hermitage in the forest of Salwe. And there lived a king, a noble Kshatriy
a, a man of diligence. Dyumatsena is his name. When he grew old he went blind. His son was still a little stripling when the blind king was overthrown by an old foe and the noble family was driven out from their land. With his wife and child he then sought refuge in the forest of Salwe and there they dwelt. His son, born in a city and raised in this forest, is named Satyavant. It is he who I have chosen as the only one who pleases me. If my father consents, it is him I wish to be my spouse.
Narada:
Forgive me as I listen in alarm, my King, but a great imprudence has been committed by Savitri, for without knowing more she has chosen poor Satyavant. His father utters only the truth, so too his mother, that is why he is called Satyavant.
Asvapati:
But holy Narada, is he not noble, wise and patient? Is he in want of valour, this son of Dyumatsena from the forest of Salwe?
Narada:
He is as noble as the sun, as wise as Brihaspati, as courageous as Indra himself and has the patience of the earth.
Asvapati:
And is he generous and pious and speaks also the truth, this Satyavant?
Is he noble of demeanour, friendly in his countenance?
Narada:
Generous is he, like King Rantideva8, loyal and pious like Sivi, son of Usinar, and as noble is he as Yayati9, the son of Nahushna.
To look at he is pleasing like Soma, beautiful like the Ashwins, whose rays scatter ahead of Surya in the early morning. So thus is Dyumatsena’s son.
Asvapati:
You show me Satyavant, adorned with all these beautiful virtues; now tell us what his failings are and what there is to disapprove.
Asvapati:
He has but one failing, O, King, the noble virtuous Satyavant, which nothing can change.
That one failing of Satyavant is that in a year from this day of today, the young Prince will have to lose his precious life.
Savitri:
Who has been listening, tense and pale, reflects and then speaks:
A legacy is divided but once,
Only once is the bride given away by her father.
Only once is a gift given and that is thrice as good.
Whether he lives long or fleeting, is poor or rich in virtue,
My husband I have chosen once, and no other will I choose.
Once the heart has decided and the word spoken,
The deed will be done as a matter of course; that is why I
follow my heart.
Narada:
How resolute she is, O, King, your beautiful daughter Savitri! By nothing or by no one will she be deterred from her duty. And since no other man has Satyavant’s virtues, it may be wise for you to give him to your daughter.
Asvapati:
I shall do as you say, for you are my master, Exalted One.
Narada:
Then may the wedding of Savitri be without impediments! I have to go now; be abundantly blessed by the gods, every one of you!
Narada now ascends swiftly to heaven. The palm frond screen covers the stage again.
Suryadatta:
Asvapati now begins preparing with thoroughness for the wedding feast. And when the day is proper and good omens seen, he departs, together with the priests and other Brahmins to the sacrificial forest, where Dyumatsena dwells. He approaches on foot the saintly old blind king, silently sitting under a sal-tree, on a seat of kusha-grass. First he greets Dyumatsena reverentially; then, softening his voice, he calls out the names of all the guests.
The blind one offers the travellers a welcome present and a seat.
III
The screen of flowers vanishes. They now have built a gentle stage depicting a forest, where the love scene is played that now begins.
Dyumatsena:
Noble friends, what leads you into the forest where live only hermits?
Asvapati:
The maiden here, O, Holy One, is my only child, Savitri. Accept her from me, O, Pious One, as the wife-to-be of Satyavant.
Dyumatsena:
We are the dispossessed; we live here in the forest,
We practise piety with discipline and penance. How will this virgin, only knowing palaces, bear the burden of our silent home?
Asvapati:
The happiness or ill-fortune of possessions and loss are sufficiently reflected upon by my daughter and me. So, this is why I do not heed the words you speak.
We come to you already resolved, O, King. In friendship do I bow before you, do not kill my hope and turn down the wish which brings me here.
We are equal of birth and rank, you and me. So, in friendliness do accept her as a spouse for Satyavant.
Dyumatsena:
Often I have wished to be related to you, O, King;
Yet, there was one hindrance; I am deprived of my kingdom.
So, may the old wish be fulfilled, be welcome here…
The two noble kings summon all the sages from their hermitage, and then the marriage and the wedding feast takes place according to traditions.
Asvapati bestows a befitting dowry on his daughter and joyfully returns to his own city. And so Satyavant, the noble virtuous one, is with his wife, and she with her desired one, both intensely happy. After her father’s departure, she casts off every ornament, and puts on bark cloth from a birch tree and a red cloak.
Charming everyone through her friendliness and courtesy, by her virtues and her discipline, she is loved by everyone. The screen parts.
Suryadatta:
Savitri nurses always with great care the mother of Satyavant. Through her serenity and submissiveness, she respects his father, as it should be.
And her husband she delights with her tenderness, charm and spirit.
So, they live happily in the woods for some time. Yet, in heart she always carries, in silence, the heavy weight of the fear of Narada’s words and without pause comes closer the day when Satyavant has to die.
IV
When the flowery screens part for the fourth part, you see the hermitage.
Savitri anxiously counts the days … There are only four left.
She announces that she once made a promise to the gods: she would not eat nor drink and would stand motionless for three days. Concerned, trying to soothe Savitri, Dyumatsena speaks:
Dyumatsena:
O, King’s-daughter, what you wish to embark on is much too hard. To stand motionless for three nights, O, dear one, that is a hard task!
Savitri:
Honoured Father, worry not, I wish to fulfil this vow. On purpose do I undertake this for the fulfilment of a wish.
Thus does she speak to the noble Dyumatsena who now remains silent. And Savitri stands still for three nights.
All other hermits look with speechless amazement and admiration at the woman. Nothing can daunt Savitri from her noble task. When the curtain of palms silently closes, the penance is going on.
Suryadatta:
The last day she spends in great anxiety and great fear, thinking all the time, tomorrow is the day that my husband has to die!
V
When the screen vanishes and dawn breaks, she sighs.
Savitri:
This is the day!
She flings offerings into the fire, and has already performed her morning duties, before Surya conjures up his radiant light. Then she hurries on to Dyumatsena and his wife, along the way greeting reverently all other pious hermits, greeting all deferentially with folded hands.
The other inmates offer her their morning greetings with blessings thus:
THE FOREST DWELLERS
‘May you never have to undergo the fate of a widow!’
Savitri:
May it be so! May it be so!
Poor Savitri replies again and again, eager to hear this pious blessing, even as she is thinking with growing fear of the hour and the moment prophesied by Narada. However, Satyavant’s father speaks:
Dyumatsena:
You have fulfilled your vow faithfully the way you desired.
S
o, now it is time for you to eat. So, do not wait to partake some food.
Savitri:
My vow does not permit me to partake food before Surya goes down.
Savitri is still speaking, when Satyavant enters with an axe to go into the forest. Savitri calls to him:
Savitri:
Don’t go alone! Let me accompany you into the jungle for I cannot live without you now!
Satyavant:
You have never been into the woods, the path leading into it is rough, O, dear one, and by your fast, you are weakened now! How will you be able to go along?
Savitri:
The fast did not enfeeble me, my faithful one; I want to be with you today!
Satyavant:
If you are able to accompany me, I would love to allow you to follow your desire. But first ask my parents so they will not blame me.
Savitri(to the parents):
Satyavant, my husband, goes to the forest to chop wood. To keep away from him today feels hard for me and to stop him is not advisable because he is getting wood for the great sacrifice. Therefore, if you allow me, dear parents, I would love to go with him today. For a full year, I have not left the hermitage. Now, I verily wish to see the forest, its flowery splendour and hear the trilling of birds.
Dyumatsena:
Ever since you have been gifted by your father to us as a daughter, Savitri,
As much as I know, with a request you never sought us.
That is why my daughter will be allowed that which she desires now.
Though be careful, Savitri, lose not your way.
After parting from the parents, Savitri now walks into the jungle with her spouse, smiling, though with a heart full of suffering. As they depart, the noble Satyavant softly speaks to her:
Satyavant:
Behold, my lovely one, how lovely and wonderful the forest is, look at the peacocks there, the rivulets from the brook and the floral beauties.
Walking behind her spouse, she, however, sees only him everywhere,
Thinking of the hour, grief-filled, when her spouse shall die.
The screen draws closed on the fifth part.
VI
When it opens again, Satyavant has filled his basket with fruit and starts cutting the wood; sweat drips from his pores. Then he feels unwell, goes to his wife, and says:
Ashoka the Great Page 94