Yama, the First Man, and King of the Dead
Burial Customs—Inhumation and Cremation—Yama the First Man—The
Discoverer of Paradise—His Twin Sister—Persian Twin Deities—Yama
and Mitra—Yama as Judge of the Dead—The “Man in the Eye”—Brahman's
Deal with Dharma-Yama—Sacrifice for a Wife—Story of Princess
Savitri—Her Husband's Fate—How she rescued his Soul from Yama—The
Heavens of Yama, Indra, and Varuna—Teutonic, Greek, and Celtic
Heavens—Paradise denied to Childless Men—Religious Need for a
Son—Exposure of Female Infants—Infanticide in Modern India—A
Touching Incident.
In early Vedic times the dead might be either buried or cremated. These
two customs were obviously based upon divergent beliefs regarding the
future state of existence. A Varuna hymn makes reference to the “house
of clay”, which suggests that among some of the Aryan tribes the belief
originally obtained that the spirits of the dead hovered round the
place of sepulture. Indeed, the dread of ghosts is still prevalent in
India; they are supposed to haunt the living until the body is burned.
Those who practised the cremation ceremony in early times appear to
have conceived of an organized Hades, to which souls were transferred
through the medium of fire, which drove away all spirits and demons
who threatened mankind. Homer makes the haunting ghost of Patroklos
exclaim, “Never again will I return from Hades when I have received my
meed of fire”.[94] The Vedic worshippers of Agni burned their dead
for the same reason as did the ancient Greeks. “When the remains of
the deceased have been placed on the funeral pile, and the process of
cremation has commenced, Agni, the god of fire, is prayed not to scorch
or consume the departed, not to tear asunder his skin or his limbs,
but, after the flames have done their work, to convey to the fathers
the mortal who has been presented to him as an offering. Leaving behind
on earth all that is evil and imperfect, and proceeding by the paths
which the fathers trod, invested with a lustre like that of the gods,
it soars to the realms of eternal light in a car, or on wings, and
recovers there its ancient body in a complete and glorified form; meets
with the forefathers who are living in festivity with Yama; obtains
from him, when recognized by him as one of his own, a delectable abode,
and enters upon more perfect life, which is crowned with the fulfilment
of all desires, is passed in the presence of the gods, and employed in
the fulfilment of their pleasure.”[95]
[94] _Iliad_, xxiii, 75.
[95] Muir, _Original Sanskrit Texts_, v. 302.
Agni is the god who is invoked by the other deities, “Make straight the
pathways that lead to the gods; be kind to us, and carry the sacrifice
for us”.[96]
[96] _Rigveda_, x. 51 (Arnold's translation).
In this connection, however, Professor Macdonell says, “Some passages
of the _Rigveda_ distinguish the path of the fathers or dead ancestors
from the path of the gods, doubtless because cremation appeared as a
different process from sacrifice”.[97]
[97] _A History of Sanskrit Literature_, p. 117.
It would appear that prior to the practice of cremation a belief in
Paradise ultimately obtained: the dead walked on foot towards it. Yama,
King of the Dead, was the first man.[98] Like the Aryan pioneers who
discovered the Punjab, he explored the hidden regions and discovered
the road which became known as “the path of the fathers”.
[98] As was also Manu of a different or later cult.
To Yama, mighty king, be gifts and homage paid.
He was the first of men that died, the first to brave
Death's rapid rushing stream, the first to point the road
To heaven, and welcome others to that bright abode.
_Sir M. Monier Williams' translation._[99]
[99] From _Indian Wisdom_.
Professor Macdonell gives a new rendering of a Vedic hymn[100] in which
Yama is referred to as follows:
[100] _A History of Sanskrit Literature_, p. 117.
Him who along the mighty heights departed,
Him who searched and spied the path for many,
Son of Vivasvat, gatherer of the people,
Yama the king, with sacrifices worship.
_Rigveda_, x, 14. 1.
Yama and his sister Yamí, the first human pair, are identical with the
Persian Yima and Yimeh of Avestan literature; they are the primeval
“twins”, the children of Vivasvat, or Vivasvant, in the _Rigveda_ and
of Vivahvant in the _Avesta_. _Yama_ signifies twin, and Dr. Rendel
Harris, in his researches on the Greek Dioscuri cult, shows that among
early peoples the belief obtained widely that one of each pair of
twins was believed to be a child of the sky. “This conjecture is borne
out by the name of Yama's father (Vivasvant), which may well be a
cult-epithet of the bright sky, ‘shining abroad’ (from the root _vas_,
‘to shine’)”.... In the _Avesta_ ‘Yima, the bright’ is referred to: he
is the Jamshid of Fitzgerald's Omar.[101]
[101] _Early Religious Poetry of Persia_, Professor J. H. Moulton, p.
42.
[Illustration: THE KAILASA TEMPLE OF SHIVA, ELLORA
10]
Yima, the Iranian ruler of Paradise, is also identical with Mitra
(Mithra), whose cult “obtained from 200-400 A.D. a world-wide diffusion
in the Roman Empire, and came nearer to monotheism than the cult of any
other god in paganism”.[102]
[102] _A History of Sanskrit Literature_, Professor Macdonell, p. 68.
Professor Moulton wonders if the Yama myth “owed anything to Babylon?”
It is possible that the worshippers of Agni represented early Iranian
beliefs, and that the worshippers of Mitra, Varuna, and the twins (Yama
and Yima and the twin Aswins) were influenced by Babylonian mythology
as a result of contact, and that these opposing sects were rivals in
India in early Vedic times.
In one of the hymns[103] Yami is the wooer of her brother Yama. She
declares that they were at the beginning intended by the gods to be
husband and wife, but Yama replies:
[103] _Rigveda_, x, 10.
“Who has sure knowledge of that earliest day? Who has seen it with his
eyes and can tell of it? Lofty is the law of Mitra and Varuna; how
canst thou dare to speak as a temptress?”
_Arnold's translation._
In the Vedic “land of the fathers”, the shining Paradise, the two
kings Varuna and Yama sit below a tree. Yama, a form of Mitra, plays
on a flute and drinks Soma with the Celestials, because Soma gives
immortality. He gathers his people to him as a shepherd gathers his
flock: indeed he is called the “Noble Shepherd”. He gives to the
faithful the draught of Soma; apparently unbelievers were destroyed or
committed to a hell called Put. Yama's messengers were the pigeon and
the owl; he had also two brindled watch-dogs, each with four eyes. The
dead who had faithfully fulfilled religious ordinances were addressed:
Fear not to pass the guards—
The four-eyed brindled dogs—that watch for the departed.
Return unto thy home, O soul! Thy sin and shame
Leave thou behind on earth; assume a shining form—
Thine ancient shape—refined and from all taint set free.
_Sir M. Monier Williams' translation._[104]
[104] From _Indian Wisdom_.
Yama judged men as Dharma-rajah, “King of righteousness”; he was
Pitripati, “lord of the fathers”; Samavurti, “the impartial judge”;
Kritana, “the finisher”; Antaka, “he who ends life”; Samana, “the
leveller”, &c.
In post-Vedic times he presided over a complicated system of Hells; he
was Dandadhara, “the wielder of the rod or mace”. He had a noose with
which to bind souls; he carried out the decrees of the gods, taking
possession of souls at their appointed time.
In one of the _Brahmanas_ death, or the soul which Death claims as his
own, is “the man in the eye”. The reflection of a face in the pupil
of the eye was regarded with great awe by the early folk; it was the
spirit looking forth. We read, “Now that man in yonder orb (of the sun)
and that man in the right eye truly are no other than Death; his feet
have stuck fast in the heart, and having pulled them out, he comes
forth; and when he comes forth then that man dies; whence they say of
him who has passed away, ‘_he has been cut off_’ (life or life-string
has been severed)”.[105]
[105] _Satapatha Brahmana_, translated by Professor Eggeling, Part IV,
1897, p. 371 (_Sacred Books of the East_).
Yama might consent to prolong the life of one whose days had run out,
on condition that another individual gave up part of his own life in
compensation; he might even agree to restore a soul which he had bound
to carry away, in response to the appeal of a mortal who had attained
to great piety. The Vedic character of Yama survives sometimes in Epic
narrative even after cremation had become general. The following
two touching and beautiful stories, preserved in _Mahabharata_, are
probably very ancient Aryan folk tales which were cherished by the
people and retold by the poets, who attached to them later religious
beliefs and practices.
THE BRAHMAN AND HIS BRIDE
Once upon a time Menaka, the beautiful Apsara (celestial fairy), who is
without shame or pity, left beside a hermitage her new-born babe, the
daughter of the King of Gandharvas (celestial elves). A pious Rishi,
named Sthula-kesha, found the child and reared her. She was called
Pramadarva, and grew to be the most beautiful and most pious of all
young women. Ruru, the great grandson of Bhrigu, looked upon her with
eyes of love, and at the request of his sire, Pramati, the virgin was
betrothed to the young Brahman.
It chanced that Pramadarva was playing with her companions a few
days before the morning fixed for the nuptials. As her time had
come, she trod upon a serpent, and the death-compelling reptile bit
her, whereupon she fell down in a swoon and expired. She became more
beautiful in death than she had been in life.
Brahmans assembled round the body of Pramadarva and sorrowed greatly.
Ruru stole away alone and went to a solitary place in the forest where
he wept aloud. “Alas!” he cried, “the fair one, whom I love more
dearly than ever, lieth dead upon the bare ground. If I have performed
penances and attained to great ascetic merit, let the power which I
have achieved restore my beloved to life again.”
Suddenly there appeared before Ruru an emissary from the Celestial
regions, who spake and said: “Thy prayer is of no avail, O Ruru.
That one whose days have been numbered can never get back her own
life again. Thou shouldst not therefore abandon thine heart to grief.
But the gods have decreed a means whereby thou canst receive back thy
beloved.”
Said Ruru: “Tell me how I can comply with the will of the Celestials, O
messenger, so that I may be delivered from my grief.”
The messenger said: “If thou wilt resign half of thine own life to this
maiden, Pramadvara, she will rise up again.”
Said Ruru: “I will resign half of my own life so that my beloved may be
restored unto me.”
Then the king of the Gandharvas and the Celestial emissary stood before
Dharma-rajah (Yama) and said: “If it be thy will, O Mighty One, let
Pramadarva rise up endowed with a part of Ruru's life.”
Said the Judge of the Dead: “So be it.”
When Dharma-rajah had spoken thus, the serpent-bitten maiden rose from
the ground, and Ruru, whose life was curtailed for her sake, obtained
the sweetest wife upon earth. The happy pair spent their days deeply
devoted to each other, awaiting the call of Yama at the appointed
time.[106]
[106] From _Adi Parva_ section of _Mahabharata_.
STORY OF SAVITRI
There was once a fair princess in the country of Madra, and her name
was Savitri. Be it told how she obtained the exalted merit of chaste
women by winning a great boon from Yama.
Savitri was the gift of the goddess Gayatri,[107] wife of Brahma, the
self-created, who had heard the prayers and received the offerings
of Aswapati, the childless king of Madra, when he practised austere
penances so that he might have issue. The maiden grew to be beautiful
and shapely like to a Celestial; her eyes had burning splendour, and
were fair as lotus leaves; she resembled a golden image; she had
exceeding sweetness and grace.
[107] Saraswati's rival. Brahma took Gayatri, the milkmaid, as a second
wife, because his chief wife, Saraswati, despite her wisdom, arrived
late for a certain important ceremony, at which the spouse of the god
was required.
It came to pass that Savitri looked with eyes of love upon a youth
named Satyavan “the Truthful”. Although Satyavan dwelt in a hermitage,
he was of royal birth. His father was a virtuous king, named
Dyumatsena, who became blind, and was then deprived of his kingdom by
an old enemy dwelling nigh to him. The dethroned monarch retired to the
forest with his faithful wife and his only son, who in time grew up to
be a comely youth.
When Savitri confessed her love to her sire, the great sage Narada, who
sat beside him, spoke and said: “Alas! the princess hath done wrong in
choosing for her husband this royal youth Satyavan. He is comely and
courageous, he is truthful and magnanimous and forgiving, he is modest
and patient and without malice; honour is seated upon his forehead; he
is possessed of every virtue. But he hath one defect, and no other. He
is endued with short life; within a year from this day he must die, for
so hath it been decreed; within a year Yama, god of the dead, will come
for him.”
Said the king unto his daughter: “O Savitri, thou hast heard the words
of Narada. Go forth, therefore, and choose for thyself another lord,
for the days of Satyavan are numbered.”
The beautiful maiden made answer unto her father the king, saying:
“The die is cast; it can fall but once; once only can a daughter be
given away by her sire; once only can a woman say, ‘_I am thine_’. I
have chosen my lord; once have I chosen, nor can I make choice a second
time. Let his life be brief or be long, I must now wed Satyavan.”
Said Narada: “O king, the heart of thy daughter will not waver; she
will not be turned aside from the path she hath selected. I therefore
approve of the bestowal of Savitri upon Satyavan.”
The king said: “As thou dost advise, so must I do ever, O Narada,
because that thou art my preceptor. Thee I cannot disobey.”
Then said Narada: “Peace be with Savitri! I must now depart. May
blessings attend upon all of you!”
Thereafter Aswapati, the royal sire of Savitri, went to visit
Dyumatsena, the blind sire of Satyavan, in the forest, and his daughter
went with him.
Said Dyumatsena: “Why hast thou come hither?”
Aswapati said: “O royal sage, this is my beautiful daughter Savitri.
Take thou her for thy daughter-in-law.”
Said Dyumatsena: “I have lost my kingdom, and with my wife and my
son dwell here in the woods. We live as ascetics and perform great
penances. How will thy daughter endure the hardships of a forest life?”
Aswapati said: “My daughter knoweth well that joy and sorrow come and
go and that nowhere is bliss assured. Accept her therefore from me.”
Then Dyumatsena consented that his son should wed Savitri, whereat
Satyavan was made glad because he was given a wife who had every
accomplishment. Savitri rejoiced also because she obtained a husband
after her own heart, and she put off her royal garments and ornaments
and clad herself in bark and red cloth.
So Savitri became a hermit woman. She honoured Satyavan's father and
mother, and she gave great joy to her husband with her sweet speeches,
her skill at work, her subdued and even temper, and especially her
love. She lived the life of the ascetics and practised every austerity.
But she never forgot the dread prophecy of Narada the sage; his
sorrowful words were always present in her secret heart, and she
counted the days as they went past.
At length the time drew nigh when Satyavan must cast off his mortal
body. When he had but four days to live, Savitri took the _Tritatra_
vow of three nights of sleepless penance and fast.
Said the blind Dyumatsena: “My heart is grieved for thee, O my
daughter, because the vow is exceedingly hard.”
Savitri said: “Be not sorrowful, saintly father, I must observe my vow
without fail.”
Said Dyumatsena: “It is not meet that one like me should say, ‘Break
thy vow,’ rather should I counsel, ‘Observe thy vow.’”
Then Savitri began to fast, and she grew pale and was much wasted
by reason of her rigid penance. Three days passed away, and then,
believing that her husband would die on the morrow, Savitri spent a
night of bitter anguish through all the dark and lonely hours.
The sun rose at length on the fateful morning, and she said to herself,
“_To-day is the day_.” Her face was bloodless but brave; she prayed in
silence and with fervour and offered oblations at the morning fire;
then she stood before her father-in-law and her mother-in-law in
reverent silence with joined hands, concentrating her senses. All the
hermits of the forest blessed her and said: “Mayest thou never suffer
widowhood.”
Said Savitri in her secret heart: “So be it.”
Dyumatsena spoke to her then, saying: “Now that thy vow hath been
completed thou mayest eat the morning meal.”
Said Savitri: “I will eat when the sun goes down.”
Hearing her words Satyavan rose, and taking his axe upon his shoulder,
turned towards the distant jungle to procure fruits and herbs for his
wife, whom he loved. He was strong and self-possessed and of noble
seeming.
Savitri spoke to him sweetly and said: “Thou must not go forth alone,
my husband. It is my heart's desire to go with thee. I cannot endure
to-day to be parted from thee.”
Said Satyavan: “It is not for thee to enter the darksome jungle; the
way is long and difficult, and thou art weak on account of thy severe
penance. How canst thou walk so far on foot?”
Savitri laid her head upon his bosom and said: “I have not been made
weary by my fast. Indeed I am now stronger than before. I will not
feel tired when thou art by my side. I have resolved to go with thee:
do not therefore seek to thwart my wish—the wish and the longing of a
faithful wife to be with her lord.”
Said Satyavan: “If it is thy desire to accompany me I cannot but
gratify it. But thou must ask permission of my parents lest they find
fault with me for taking thee through the trackless jungle.”
Then Savitri spoke to the blind sage and her husband's mother and said:
“Satyavan is going towards the deep jungle to procure fruits and herbs
for me, and also fuel for the sacrificial fires. It is my heart's wish
to go also, for to-day I cannot endure to be parted from him. Fain,
too, would I behold the blossoming woods.”
Said Dyumatsena: “Since thou hast come to dwell with us in our
hermitage thou hast not before asked anything of us. Have thy desire
therefore in this matter, but do not delay thy husband in his duties.”
Having thus received permission to depart from the hermitage, Savitri
turned towards the jungle with Satyavan, her beloved lord. Smiles
covered her face, but her heart was torn with secret sorrow.
Peacocks fluttered in the green woodland through which they walked
together, and the sun shone in all its splendour in the blue heaven.
Said Satyavan with sweet voice: “How beautiful are the bright streams
and the blossoming trees!”
The heart of Savitri was divided into two parts: with one she held
converse with her husband while she watched his face and followed his
moods; with the other she awaited the dread coming of Yama, but she
never uttered her fears.
Birds sang sweetly in the forest, but sweeter to Savitri was the
voice of her beloved. It was very dear to her to walk on in silence,
listening to his words.
Satyavan gathered fruits and stored them in his basket. At length
he began to cut down the branches of trees. The sun was hot and
he perspired. Suddenly he felt weary and he said: “My head aches;
my senses are confused, my limbs have grown weak, and my heart is
afflicted sorely. O silent one, a sickness hath seized me. My body
seems to be pierced by a hundred darts. I would fain lie down and rest,
my beloved; I would fain sleep even now.”
Speechless and terror-stricken, the gentle Savitri wound her arms about
her husband's body; she sat upon the ground and she pillowed his head
upon her lap. Remembering the words of Narada, she knew that the dread
hour had come; the very moment of death was at hand. Gently she held
her husband's head with caressing hands; she kissed his panting lips;
her heart was beating fast and loud. Darker grew the forest and it was
lonesome indeed.
Suddenly an awful Shape emerged from the shadows. He was of great
stature and sable hue; his raiment was blood-red; on his head he wore
a gleaming diadem; he had red eyes and was fearsome to look upon; he
carried a noose.... The Shape was Yama, god of death. He stood in
silence, and gazed upon slumbering Satyavan.
Savitri looked up, and when she perceived that a Celestial had come
nigh, her heart trembled with sorrow and with fear. She laid her
husband's head upon the green sward and rose up quickly: then she
spake, saying, “Who art thou, O divine One, and what is thy mission to
me?”
Said Yama: “Thou dost love thy husband; thou art endued also with
ascetic merit. I will therefore hold converse with thee. Know thou that
I am the Monarch of Death. The days of this man, thy husband, are now
spent, and I have come to bind him and take him away.”
Savitri said: “Wise sages have told me that thy messengers carry
mortals away. Why, then, O mighty King, hast thou thyself come hither?”
Said Yama: “This prince is of spotless heart; his virtues are without
number; he is, indeed, an ocean of accomplishments. It would not be
fitting to send messengers for him, so I myself have come hither.”
The face of Satyavan had grown ashen pale. Yama cast his noose and tore
out from the prince's body the soul-form, which was no larger than a
man's thumb; it was tightly bound and subdued.
So Satyavan lost his life; he ceased to breathe; his body became
unsightly; it was robbed of its lustre and deprived of power to move.
Yama fettered the soul with tightness, and turned abruptly towards the
south; silently and speedily he went upon his way....
Savitri followed him.... Her heart was drowned in grief. She could not
desert her beloved lord.... She followed Yama, the Monarch of Death.
Said Yama: “Turn back, O Savitri. Do not follow me. Perform the funeral
rites of thy lord.... Thine allegiance to Satyavan hath now come to an
end: thou art free from all wifely duties. Dare not to proceed farther
on this path.”
Savitri said: “I must follow my husband whither he is carried or
whither he goeth of his own will. I have undergone great penance. I
have observed my vow, and I cannot be turned back.... I have already
walked with thee seven paces, and the sages have declared that one who
walketh seven paces with another becometh a companion. Being thus made
thy friend, I must hold converse with thee, I must speak and thou must
listen.... I have attained the perfect life upon earth by performing
my vows and by reason of my devotion unto my lord. It is not meet
that thou shouldest part me from my husband now, and prevent me from
attaining bliss by saying that my allegiance to him hath ended and
another mode of life is opened to me.”
Said Yama: “Turn back now.... Thy words are wise and pleasing indeed;
therefore, ere thou goest, thou canst ask a boon of me and I will grant
it. Except the soul of Satyavan, I will give thee whatsoever thou dost
desire.”
Savitri said: “Because my husband's sire became blind, he was deprived
of his kingdom. Restore his eyesight, O mighty One.”
Said Yama: “The boon is granted. I will restore the vision of thy
father-in-law.... But thou hast now grown faint on this toilsome
journey. Turn back, therefore, and thy weariness will pass away.”
Savitri said: “How can I be weary when I am with my husband? The fate
of my husband will be my fate also; I will follow him even unto the
place whither thou dost carry him.... Hear me, O mighty One, whose
friendship I cherish! It is a blessed thing to behold a Celestial;
still more blessed is it to hold converse with one; the friendship of a
god must bear great fruit.”
Said Yama: “Thy wisdom delighteth my heart. Therefore thou canst ask
of me a second boon, except the life of thy husband, and it will be
granted thee.”
Savitri said: “May my wise and saintly father-in-law regain the kingdom
he hath lost. May he become once again the protector of his people.”
Said Yama: “The boon is granted. The king will return to his people and
be their wise protector.... Turn back now, O princess; thy desire is
fulfilled.”
Savitri said: “All people must obey thy decrees; thou dost take away
life in accordance with divine ordinances and not of thine own will.
Therefore thou art called Yama—he that ruleth by decrees. Hear my
words, O divine One. It is the duty of Celestials to love all creatures
and to award them according to their merit. The wicked are without
holiness and devotion, but the saintly protect all creatures and show
mercy even unto their enemies.”
Said Yama: “Thy wise words are like water to a thirsty soul. Ask of
me therefore a third boon, except thy husband's life, and it will be
granted unto thee.”
Savitri said: “My sire, King Aswapati, hath no son. O grant that a
hundred sons may be born unto him.”
[Illustration: YAMA AND SAVITRI
_From a painting by Nanda Lall Bose_
(By permission of the Indian Society of Oriental Art, Calcutta)
11]
Said Yama: “A hundred sons will be born unto thy royal sire. Thy boon
is granted.... Turn back, therefore, O princess; thou canst not come
farther. Long is the path thou hast already travelled.”
Savitri said: “I have followed my husband and the way hath not seemed
long. Indeed, my heart desireth to go on much farther. Hear my words,
O Yama, as thou dost proceed on thy journey. Thou art great and wise
and powerful; thou dost deal equally with all human creatures; thou art
the lord of justice.... One cannot trust oneself as one can trust a
Celestial; therefore, one seeketh to win the friendship of a Celestial.
It is meet that one who seeketh the friendship of a Celestial should
make answer to his words.”
Said Yama: “No mortal hath ever spoken unto me as thou hast spoken. Thy
words are indeed pleasing, O princess. I will grant thee even a fourth
boon, except thy husband's life, ere thou dost depart.”
Savitri said: “May a century of sons be born unto my husband and me so
that our race may endure. O grant me this, the fourth boon, thou Mighty
One.”
Said Yama: “I grant unto thee a century of sons, O princess; they will
be wise and powerful and thy race will endure.... Be without weariness
now, O lady, and turn back; thou hast come too far already.”
Savitri said: “Those who are pious must practise eternal morality,
O Yama. The pious uphold the universe. The pious hold communion with
the pious only, and are never weary; the pious do good unto others nor
ever expect any reward. A good deed done unto the righteous is never
thrown away; such an act doth not entail loss of dignity nor is any
interest impaired. Indeed, the doing of good is the chief office of the
righteous, and the righteous therefore are the true protectors of all.”
Said Yama: “The more thou dost speak, the more I respect thee, O
princess. O thou who art so deeply devoted unto thy husband, thou canst
now ask of me some incomparable boon.”
Savitri said: “O mighty One, thou bestower of boons, thou hast already
promised what cannot be fulfilled unless my husband is restored unto
me; thou hast promised me a century of sons. Therefore, I ask thee, O
Yama, to give me back Satyavan, my beloved, my lord. Without him, I
am as one who is dead; without him, I have no desire for happiness;
without him I have no longing even for Heaven; I will have no desire
to prosper if my lord is snatched off; I cannot live without Satyavan.
Thou hast promised me sons, O Yama, yet thou dost take away my husband
from mine arms. Hear me and grant this boon: Let Satyavan be restored
to life so that thy decree may be fulfilled.”
Said Yama: “So be it. With cheerful heart I now unbind thy husband.
He is free.... Disease cannot afflict him again and he will prosper.
Together you will both have long life; you will live four hundred
years; you will have a century of sons and they will be kings, and
their sons will be kings also.”
Having spoken thus, Yama, the lord of death, departed unto his own
place. And Savitri returned to the forest where her husband's body lay
cold and ashen-pale; she sat upon the ground and pillowed his head
upon her lap. Then Satyavan was given back his life.... He looked upon
Savitri with eyes of love; he was like to one who had returned from a
long journey in a strange land.
Said Satyavan: “Long was my sleep; why didst thou not awaken me, my
beloved?... Where is that dark One who dragged me away?”
Savitri said: “Yama hath come and gone, and thou hast slept long,
resting thy head upon my lap, and art now refreshed, O blessed one.
Sleep hath forsaken thee, O son of a king. If thou canst rise up, let
us now depart hence for the night is already dark....”
Satyavan rose up refreshed and strong. He looked round about and
perceived that he was in the midst of the forest. Then he said: “O
fair one, I came hither to gather fruit for thee, and while I cut down
branches from the trees a pain afflicted me. I grew faint, I sank upon
the ground, I laid my head upon thy lap and fell into a deep slumber
even whilst thou didst embrace me. Then it seemed to me that I was
enveloped in darkness, and that I beheld a sable One amidst great
effulgence.... Was this a vision or a reality, O fairest and dearest?”
Savitri said: “The darkness deepens.... I will tell thee all on the
morrow.... Let us now find our parents, O prince. The beasts of the
night come forth; I hear their awesome voices; they tread the forest in
glee; the howl of the jackal maketh my heart afraid.”[108]
[108] Unfaithful wives were transformed into jackals after death.
Said Satyavan: “Darkness hath covered the forest with fear; we cannot
discover the path by which to return home.”
Savitri said: “A withered tree burneth yonder. I will gather sticks and
make a fire and we will wait here until day.”
Said Satyavan: “My sickness hath departed and I would fain behold
my parents again. Never before have I spent a night away from the
hermitage. My mother is old and my father also, and I am their crutch.
They will now be afflicted with sorrow because that we have not
returned.”
Satyavan lifted up his arms and lamented aloud, but Savitri dried
his tears and said: “I have performed penances, I have given away
in charity, I have offered up sacrifices, I have never uttered a
falsehood. May thy parents be protected by virtue of the power which I
have obtained, and may thou, O my husband, be protected also.”
Said Satyavan: “O beautiful one, let us now return to the hermitage.”
Savitri raised up her despairing husband. She then placed his left arm
upon her left shoulder and wound her right arm about his body, and they
walked on together.... At length the fair moon came out and shone upon
their path.
Meanwhile Dyumatsena, the sire of Satyavan, had regained his sight, and
he went with his wife to search for his lost son, but had to return to
the hermitage sorrowing and in despair. The sages comforted the weeping
parents and said: “Savitri hath practised great austerities, and there
can be no doubt that Satyavan is still alive.”
In time Satyavan and Savitri reached the hermitage, and their own
hearts and the hearts of their parents were freed from sorrow.
Then Savitri related all that had taken place, and the sages said: “O
chaste and illustrious lady, thou hast rescued the race of Dyumatsena,
the foremost of kings, from the ocean of darkness and calamity.”
On the morning that followed messengers came to Dyumatsena and told
that the monarch who had deprived him of his kingdom was dead, having
fallen by the hand of his chief minister. All the people clamoured for
their legitimate ruler. Said the messengers: “Chariots await thee, O
king. Return, therefore, unto thy kingdom.”
Great was their wonder to find that Dyumatsena was no longer blind.
So the king was restored to his kingdom, in accordance with the boon
which Savitri had obtained from Yama. And sons were in time born unto
her father. Thus did the gentle Savitri, by reason of her great piety,
raise from misery to high fortune the family of her husband and her own
father also. She was the rescuer of all; the bringer of happiness and
prosperity.... He who heareth the story of Savitri will never endure
misery again....
* * * * *
The beauties of Yama's heaven are sung by the sage Narada in the great
epic poem _Mahabharata_.[109] “Listen to me,” he says. “In that fair
domain it is neither too hot nor too cold. Life there is devoid of
sorrow; age does not bring frailties, and none ever hunger or thirst;
it is without wretchedness, or fatigue, or evil feelings. Everything,
whether celestial or human, that the heart seeks after is found there.
Sweet are the juicy fruits, delicious the fragrance of flowers and tree
blossoms, and waters are there, both cold and hot, to give refreshment
and comfort. Nymphs dance and sing to the piping of celestial elves,
and merry laughter ever blends with the strains of alluring music.
[109] _Lokapala-Sabhakhyana_ section of _Sabha Parva_.
“The Assembly House of Yama, which was made by Twashtri, hath splendour
equal to the sun; it shines like burnished gold. There the servants of
the Lord of Justice measure out the allotted days of mortals. Great
rishis and ancestors await upon Yama, King of the Pitris (fathers),
and adore him. Sanctified by holiness, their shining bodies are clad
in swan-white garments, and decked with many-coloured bracelets and
golden ear-rings. Sweet sounds, alluring perfumes, and brilliant flower
garlands make that building ever pleasant and supremely blest. Hundreds
of thousands of saintly beings worship the illustrious King of the
Pitris.
“The heaven of Indra was constructed by the great artisan-god himself.
Like a chariot it can be moved anywhere at will. The Assembly House
has many rooms and seats, and is adorned by celestial trees. Indra
sits there with his beautiful queen, wearing his crown, with gleaming
bracelets on his upper arms; he is decked with flowers, and attired
in white garments. He is waited upon by brilliant Maruts, and all the
gods and the rishis and saints, whose sins have been washed off their
pure souls, which are resplendent as fire. There is no sorrow, or fear,
or suffering in Indra's abode, which is inhabited by the spirits of
wind and thunder, fire and water, plants and clouds, and planets and
stars, and the spirits also of Prosperity, Religion, Joy, Faith, and
Intelligence. Fairies and elves (Apsaras and Gandharvas) dance and sing
there to sweet music; feats of skill are performed by celestial battle
heroes, auspicious rites are also practised. Divine messengers come and
go in celestial chariots, looking bright as Soma himself.
“The heaven of Varuna was constructed by Vishwakarman (Twashtri)
within the sea. Its walls and arches are of pure white, and they are
surrounded by celestial trees, made of sparkling jewels, which always
blossom and always bear fruit. In the many-coloured bowers beautiful
and variegated birds sing delightful melodies. In the Assembly House,
which is also of pure white, there are many rooms and many seats.
Varuna, richly decked with jewels and golden ornaments and flowers, is
throned there with his queen. Adityas[110] wait upon the lord of the
waters, as also do hooded snakes (Nagas) with human heads and arms,
and Daityas and Danavas (giants and demons) who have taken vows and
have been rewarded with immortality. All the holy spirits of rivers and
oceans are there, and the holy spirits of lakes and springs and pools,
and the personified forms of the points of the heavens, the ends of the
earth, and the great mountains. Music and dances provide entertainment,
while sacred hymns are sung in praise of Varuna.”
[110] Sons of the goddess Aditi. They are attendants of Varuna, their
chief, as the Maruts are attendants of Indra.
[Illustration: THE CITY OF THE GODS, PALITANA
12]
These heavens recall the Grecian “Islands of the Blest” and the Celtic
Otherworld, where eternal summer reigns, trees bear blossoms and fruit
continually, and there is no wasting with age. Indra's Assembly House
is slightly reminiscent of the Teutonic Valhal, but is really more like
the gardens of the underworld Hela. The Indian heroes do not feast on
pork like those of Teutonic and Celtic myth; in the Assembly House
of Kuvera, god of wealth, however, fat and flesh are eaten by fierce
sentinel dwarfs. The fairy-like Apsaras are wooed by Indra's favoured
warriors as well as by the gods.
One of the conditions which secured entry to the heaven of Yama was
that a man should have offspring. A rishi, named Mandapala, devoted
himself to religious vows and the observance of great austerities, but
when he reached the region of the Pitris, he could not obtain “the
fruit of his acts”. He asked: “Why is this domain unattainable to me?”
Said the Celestials: “Because thou hast no children.... The Vedas have
declared that the son rescueth the father from a hell called Put. O
best of Brahmans, strive thou to beget offspring.”[111]
[111] _Adi Parva_ section of _Mahabharata_, Roy's trans., p. 635.
A father could only reach Heaven if his son, after performing the
cremation ceremony, poured forth the oblation and performed other
necessary services to the dead. Consequently, all men showed great
anxiety to have sons. In the Vedic period the exposure of female
children was not unknown; indeed, this practice is referred to in the
_Yajurveda_. “It is sorrowful to have a daughter,” exclaims the writer
of one of the _Brahmanas_.
One reason for infanticide in modern India is associated with the
practice of exogamy (marriage outside of one's tribe). Raids took
place for the purpose of obtaining wives and these were invariably
the cause of much bloodshed. In 1842 members of the Kandhs tribe
told Major Macpherson “that it was better to destroy girls in their
infancy than to allow them to grow up and become causes of strife
afterwards”. Colonel MacCulloch, Political Agent for Manipur, stamped
out infanticide in the Naga country by assuring the people of a tribe
that they would be protected against the wife-hunting parties of a
stronger tribe. “Many years afterwards a troop of Naga girls from the
weaker tribe paid a visit of ceremony to Colonel MacCulloch, bearing
presents of cloth of their own weaving in token of their gratitude to
the man who had saved their lives.”[112]
[112] The Tribes and Castes of Bengal. H. H. Risley (1892), vol. i,
lxv, _et seq_.