On the fated day Savitri gets up well before morn and worships Goddess Durga: (Savitri, p. 561) She is calm, she is composed, she has deep certitude; she is quite human doing things as usual and yet there is really nothing human in her now; the Goddess has taken full control of the destiny and the year has come to an end to deliver the gift it was holding in its steadfast heart.

Now it was here in this great golden dawn.

By her still sleeping husband lain she gazed

Into her past as one about to die

Looks back upon the sunlit fields of life

Where he too ran and sported with the rest,

Lifting his head above the huge dark stream

Into whose depths he must for ever plunge.

All she had been and done she lived again.

The whole year in a swift and eddying race

Of memories swept through her and fled away

Into the irrecoverable past.

Then silently she rose and, service done,

Bowed down to the great goddess simply carved

By Satyavan upon a forest stone.

What prayer she breathed her soul and Durga knew.

Perhaps she felt in the dim forest huge

The infinite Mother watching over her child,

Perhaps the shrouded Voice spoke some still word.

“Fate had followed her foreseen immutable road,” the long immutable road, the long immutable road of Fate as well as of Savitri. Things had converged at the destined place and the hour also arrived when what was foreseen had to happen. Anxious Gods and Goddesses were present in the forest sky to witness the victory of Savitri over Death, a victory they were waiting for since the arrival of Life upon Earth. Death was the dark response to the gifts she had brought to this creation, and she was unable to live in her full majesty and glory in the wideness of the Spirit’s possibilities. “Twelve passionate months led in a day of fate” and now the hour had come when Satyavan must die, the long awaited. That was the only way by which inexorable fate could be changed.

The sky was crowded with a throng of gods

And golden Durga with sword in her hand

Guarded the kingly tree since the early dawn

And Satyavan and Savitri moved in the peace

Of that rich forest, destiny’s rendezvous.

Year is the body and Satyavan must die

And three great times he uttered the mantric name.

The noon was filled with the creator’s shadow

And the still river watched the motionless crane,

As if eternity had come to its end.

In the campanile of death tolled the hour

And no more was there Savitri’s Satyavan.

 The fated day of Satyavan’s death has arrived and Savitri gets ready well before the sunrise. In that auspicious hour or Mahamuhurta she worships Durga, the Protectress of the World. Then, taking the permission from her parents-in-law, she accompanies her husband to the forest where he has to go for the daily work. Even as they enjoy each other’s company in the happiness of nature, Savitri is at the same time haunted by the foretold doom which will befall on Satyavan when arrives the marked moment. While Satyavan is attending to his job, of cutting the branch of a tree, he suddenly feels exhausted, and there is profuse sweating, as well as intense pain. He comes down from the tree and puts his head in the lap of Savitri. The noon has become dark with the presence of Yama, the God of Death. Savitri knows that Satyavan is there no more now with her.