The cross Savitri has to carry has been made known to her by Narad. She has chosen Satyavan as her lover and husband and she is firm about the choice irrespective of whatever it might entail. Narad is going round and round, and not coming to the point straightaway. He knows everything, and already the royal audience has understood that there is something ominous about what Savitri has decided to do. But now the queen-mother of Savitri, Malawi, is insistent and demands of the sage to come out with the truth though harsh it might be to bear. Perhaps the sage was waiting for this demand on him, because one of the intentions he had in his mind was to steel the will of Savitri, to remain firm in her decision in spite of the calamitous prophecy he was about to make. In the process he was to set free the spring of cosmic Fate. So it was not just the calamity pertaining to an individual, it was through that individual’s deep and irreparable misfortune that the very future of the universe was going to be decided. So Narad is going to make the mysterious announcement with that full sense of responsibility. He even asserts that the great Gods use the pain of human hearts as a sharp axe to cut the path of the cosmic future, the path of glory and triumph—as though that pain is serving a kind of noble purpose. So Christ must carry the Cross, and Sri Aurobindo must suffer harshness and severity of the solitary imprisonment, the infuriating onslaught of its madness, and Savitri must bear the agony of the death of Satyavan exactly one year after the marriage. So now he sets universal destiny free in that epoch-making hour. He tells Malawi who was insistent on knowing the truth:

 

The truth thou hast claimed; I give to thee the truth.

A marvel of the meeting earth and heavens

Is he whom Savitri has chosen mid men,

 

His figure is the front of Nature's march,

His single being excels the works of Time.

A sapphire cutting from the sleep of heaven,

Delightful is the soul of Satyavan, 

A ray out of the rapturous Infinite,

A silence waking to a hymn of joy.

 

But

 

O loss, if death into its elements

Of which his gracious envelope was built

Shatter this vase before it breathes its sweets,

As if earth could not keep too long from heaven

A treasure thus unique loaned by the gods,

A being so rare, of so divine a make!

 

In one brief year when this bright hour flies back

And perches careless on a branch of Time,

This sovereign glory ends heaven lent to earth,

This splendour vanishes from the mortal's sky:

Heaven's greatness came, but was too great to stay.


Twelve swift-winged months are given to him and her;

This day returning Satyavan must die.

 

The indelible sentence is served. Only twelve swift-winged months are given to the young couple and exactly one year after the return of that moment, the moment the prophecy of doom was made, Satyavan is bound to die, he has to die. That is the recognizable cross Savitri has to carry. But Narad goes further and tells what exactly is stored for her in future. In fact, in that way, he has already initiated Savitri into the Yoga of the Conquest of Death. In that sense, it also becomes a happy cross for her. Narad tells Malawi something which is actually meant for her unfortunate daughter:

 

Queen, strive no more to change the secret will;

Time's accidents are steps in its vast scheme.

 

Bring not thy brief and helpless human tears

Across the fathomless moments of a heart

That knows its single will and God's as one:

It can embrace its hostile destiny;

It sits apart with grief and facing death,

Affronting adverse fate armed and alone.

 

In this enormous world standing apart

In the mightiness of her silent spirit's will,

In the passion of her soul of sacrifice

Her lonely strength facing the universe,

Affronting fate, asks not man's help nor god's:

Sometimes one life is charged with earth's destiny,

It cries not for succour from the time-bound powers.

 

Alone she is equal to her mighty task.

 

Intervene not in a strife too great for thee,

A struggle too deep for mortal thought to sound,

Its question to this Nature's rigid bounds

When the soul fronts nude of garbs the infinite,

Its too vast theme of a lonely mortal will

Pacing the silence of eternity.

 

As a star, uncompanioned, moves in heaven

Unastonished by the immensities of space,

Travelling infinity by its own light,

The great are strongest when they stand alone.

 

A God-given might of being is their force,

A ray from self's solitude of light the guide;

The soul that can live alone with itself meets God;

Its lonely universe is their rendezvous.

 

A day may come when she must stand unhelped

On a dangerous brink of the world's doom and hers,

Carrying the world's future on her lonely breast,

Carrying the human hope in a heart left sole

To conquer or fail on a last desperate verge.

 

Alone with death and close to extinction's edge,

Her single greatness in that last dire scene,

She must cross alone a perilous bridge in Time

And reach an apex of world-destiny

Where all is won or all is lost for man.


In that tremendous silence lone and lost

Of a deciding hour in the world's fate,

In her soul's climbing beyond mortal time

When she stands sole with Death or sole with God

Apart upon a silent desperate brink,

Alone with her self and death and destiny

As on some verge between Time and Timelessness

When being must end or life rebuild its base,

Alone she must conquer or alone must fall.

No human aid can reach her in that hour,

No armoured God stand shining at her side.

 

Cry not to heaven, for she alone can save.

 

For this the silent Force came missioned down;

In her the conscious Will took human shape:

She only can save herself and save the world.

 

O queen, stand back from that stupendous scene,

Come not between her and her hour of Fate.


Her hour must come and none can intervene:

Think not to turn her from her heaven-sent task,

Strive not to save her from her own high will.

 

Thou hast no place in that tremendous strife;

Thy love and longing are not arbiters there,

Leave the world's fate and her to God's sole guard.


Even if he seems to leave her to her lone strength,

Even though all falters and falls and sees an end

And the heart fails and only are death and night,

God-given her strength can battle against doom

Even on a brink where Death alone seems close

And no human strength can hinder or can help.

 

Think not to intercede with the hidden Will,

Intrude not twixt her spirit and its force

But leave her to her mighty self and Fate.

 

But this is a different kind of cross Savitri has to carry. It is not the cross which has been offered to her by human agents and human organizations; it is not a product of human rules and laws. It is a cross of the hoary occult kind, prepared by the Darkness himself. He was presented the crown of God’s love and beauty and joy; instead what he gave back was the inflexible gray cross of the Law of Death, the Cross prepared for her by the great Soul of Inconscience. One may legitimately ask if she will be able to bear it and survive. The Siege of Nothingness might be able to defeat her, swallow her up. But there is the tapasya of her Yogi father Aswapati on which her work stands, and there is the Will of the Supreme that itself has incarnated in her form, and there is the Mighty Mother overseeing the activities and actions of her Child. When Narad says that we should leave her to her might self and Fate, it also means the end result is already decided. But the end result fructifies only when first she bears this Cross.