Every day he would pour offerings into the sacred fires, accompanied by a hundred thousand chantings of the Gayatri mantra. She stood before him with folded hands. The princess, though bashful, did not even for a moment doubt her father’s words. From there he proceeded on foot to where the hut of the blind king was. After her father had gone, Savitri removed all her ornaments and rich clothes and donned clothes made of barks and leaves as befitting forest-wellers. Outwardly she seemed normal and happy but inside she was burning in the fire of torment. Seeing him, she gently placed her husband’s head on the ground. Your words are as soothing to me as water is to a thirsty man.
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