Week Nine: Storytelling: A Widow, to Be or Not to Be?

My husband has died. Died. He is actually dead... I cannot wrap my mind around this. I cannot accept this. I do not know how to go on. My entire identity is intrinsically tied to his. I am a wife before I am anything else. My life was completely centered around him. He was my rock, my anchor. Now I feel lost. I am drifting aimlessly. What am I, if not the wife of Pandu?

Oh, no. It cannot be. I cannot even bring myself to think the wretched word, let alone say it aloud. Let alone identify with it. I refuse. I will not be pitied in such a way. I will not be that lonely woman. I will not be that sad woman. I will not be the woman without any purpose in life. I cannot stand the thought of it. I must do something about this.

Pandu is dead? I still cannot believe it. I was sure he would live forever, or close to it. I never thought much about what I would do were I to be relieved of my duties as a wife. Now that the opportunities presented itself, I cannot suppress the giddy excitement building up inside me. 

Oh, but this will not do. The poor man had not even went through his funeral rights yet. I shall have to maintain a respectful disposition until it is all over and done with. He was a fair husband, after all. 

At the funeral, I make my decision. My life has been dedicated to Pandu. What worth is there in a life that has lost all meaning? There is none. That is why I have decided to ascend the funeral pyre. I shall die with dignity. I will not be remembered as the pathetic widow.

I am standing in the crowd trying not to fidget. I am anxious to start my new life, even as I watch my old one literally go up in flames before me. What is that? I see someone going up the funeral pyre. They must be mad! It is Madri? Oh, my. I suppose I should have expected this. She always was such a loyal wife to Pandu and a very considerate co-wife, as well. I will miss her.

After the ceremony ended, I began to travel. I went wherever I pleased. I discovered new lands. I swam in the sea. I knew men other than Pandu. I experienced joy and freedom at such levels which I thought only existed in dreams. I hope to remain forevermore a widow.

Author's Note: I choose to do this sorry because I am both fascinated and horrified by the tradition of killing oneself over a significant other. In Indian culture it was sometimes not only accepted but even expected today a wife ascend the funeral pyre of her husband! And in western society, we idolize stories like Romeo and Juliet, a case of a double suicide over "love at first sight." I wanted to do this story because I wanted to try to make both characters more relatable. I wanted rafts to understand that Madri truly couldn't imagine life without her husband, while Kunti felt she had a whole new lease on life. I choose the image below because it is how I pictured Kunti on the beach, after the funeral had passed. It is not actually am image of Kunti, but it is how I pictured her.

Bibliography: Narayan, R.K. (1978). The Mahabharata.

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