Book IX—The Book of Eternal Night

Canto 1

Towards the Black Void

The luminous flame left the clay-lamp behind

And, impelled by the path, walked into the night.

Now the old man with his chill pitiless look

Determined the movement of the captive poor,

Helpless mortality yielding to the Fear

Terrible, the keeper of the souls of the dead.

But someone assumed charge of human Savitri

And she gathered within the strength that puts out death

And took courage to follow the god to the end.

In the oceanic surge of her silent will

Rested the exultant power that can save

The world from the fate of collapsing time.

Calm and ungrieving, Savitri holds dead Satyavan in the embrace of her soul. Presently an endless force descends in her, and now she is a different person. Whatever of humanity yet had lingered in her that got removed in the greatness of that death. Assuming full control of the situation, the Yogini rises to face the dreadful God. The hour has come, and now she should take up the unfinished task, the task belonging to the dead past, the past carrying in it the dead mass. But this has to be done in the face of the opposition coming from the Being of the Night, from that terrible God, the Shadow. Savitri releases Satyavan from her clasp, lest he the dead should suffer in it; for a while she hands him over to Death. His luminous spirit moves out of the body and is compelled to traverse through the dimness of that land. Formidable Death is behind him and, helpless, he is fully under his sway. The perilous silences of the realm shall hence keep him shut from the light of the day. But Savitri, discarding one by one her mortal sheaths, follows them, Satyavan and behind him Death. She is sternly warned no to do so, not to enter the land of Death. She is sternly commanded to return to earth; but she refuses.

Canto 2

The Journey in Eternal Night and the Voice of the Darkness

Enraged by her firm intruding tread the person

Of the abyss swung back, as though agonised

The night grew more dreadful in her terror.

Nothing seemed meaningless and a graver aim

Sustained its might against the spirit’s assault.

Imperious the voice bade her to return,—

With boons in his bosom the deceased held dear.

But Savitri steadfast in the truth of her soul

Was alert to the reality of the world.

What boons these if earth remains ever death-bound!

From flames of the pyre must rise the birds of joy

And awakened dawns bring to life their love.

The Yogini has transgressed the law and she must pay the price for that indiscretion of hers. She must bear its terrible consequences, the infliction of the terror; she must understand that here operates only the law of negation of life, denial of life as an incontrovertible fact, its non-existence. Yet in the land of Death her soul persists to be. Savitri survives; but she cannot have her Satyavan back. Instead, her exceptional daring can claim gifts from the Lord of Darkness. Whatever her dear Satyavan had wished while he was living, all those pleasures could easily be hers. Or else if he cherished the wish of eyesight for his blind father, or desired that he should have his lost kingdom back,—these could be restored to him. But those gifts and rewards did not mean much to Savitri, nothing, and she rejects them forthwith. Offended Death speaks in threatening terms to her. She is told that her venturesome act would awake the Furies who would put her in danger; she should on the other hand go by the wisdom shown to her by him, she should accept Death’s advice. But Savitri remains undeterred, worshipper of eternal Love only as she is; whatever she has to do she will do only that which is told by him alone, by Love. Indeed, in her birth all his suns were conscient and, replies she, Death should be fully cognizant of it. Death, however, carries in his imperial majesty the sword of ruthless will, the will of destruction, and Savitri, once more a Wanderer in the unending Night, travels through the unyielding vasts. She would not come back without the soul of Satyavan.