The flames crackled and whipped at the wood viciously. Smoke rose into the air.

Jaya stood off to the corner, covering her head with her white dupatta. She coughed as the smoke reached her nostrils. She crossed her arms and looked out at the blazing fire. Perhaps to others it looked like any other fire. Perhaps to others it looked like a regular fire they would cook their food over.

But to Jaya, it didn't.

All she could see were the menacing flames which would attack and scorch her skin. All Jaya could see was the charring and lethal fire which would soon eat away her body, sending her to Pathalam, the Underworld.

Jaya shivered.

It wasn't because it was cold.

No. She shivered from fear.

Her husband had died a day before and as the preparations for his funeral went on, everyone had reminded Jaya that her Sati was approaching. It was said that it would purge her of all her sins, release her from the cycle of birth and rebirth and ensure salvation for her dead husband.

Sati, they called it. The time she would show to the world what a dutiful wife she was, they called it. 

Jaya shook her head.

It would be her end, that's what it would be.

She looked ahead again and watched as her husband's dead body was set down next to the fire. She rushed forward, taking the puja thali with her. Jaya moved the plate in a circular motion, around her dead husband's face and then took some vibuthi in her hand.

She smeared it across her husband's forehead using three of her fingers and then applied some chandanam in the same manner.

Jaya looked at his resting face for just a moment before stepping back.

He was a good husband, she thought.

Jaya set the puja thali down. She knelt down on the ground and bowed at the feet of the men who had carried her husband's body. The men blessed her, all dressed in white and wearing dhotis. They all took turns touching the top of her head. Among them was her elder brother who blessed her just as the others did.

Jaya folded her hands and stood up swiftly. The time had come.

She was about to die.

The men took hold of the body again and Jaya stepped back further. The people surrounding the funeral pyre watched as the fire started to blaze.

As Jaya too watched the flames start to lash out at her husband's now lifeless body, she wondered if she could run. She was only twenty-four, after all. She had her whole life ahead of her. 

Jaya knew there were men who had started to oppose the act of sati. She knew they would help her. She wondered if her feet could carry her even a mile away from here. Jaya wondered if they would catch her if she ran.

Her eyes snapped back to the fire. She shook her head slightly.

No, she thought firmly. This was it.

She had to fulfill her duties as a wife.

That was all she had ever been taught to do. All Jaya had trained for her whole life was to be the perfect wife.

She had been married off at the tender age of thirteen and since then, she'd made sure to be dutiful. She'd made sure that she was a devoted wife. As soon as her husband returned from the fields, she had always had a hot meal waiting for him. She would've cleaned their hut so carefully that there wasn't even a speck of dust.

Jaya had even mingled with the other women in her village, making sure that even then, she was perfect. And now had come her last duty as a wife. Her journey to Pathalam, following her husband.

Jaya stepped into the fire.

Immediately, an excruciating shock ran up her leg. 

The flames tickled her bare feet and rose up as she stumbled and fell into the fire. Jaya moved her head at exactly the right moment, making sure her face wasn't the first thing the fire consumed.

She had to follow her husband.

The sickly sweet aroma of charred flesh wafted into the air. Jaya's white dhoti clung to her skin and she could feel her skin melting. Jaya wrapped her arms around her husband's neck, wincing in pain as the flames tickled her arms and fingers.

She was meant for this.

The fire whipped at her bare skin, sizzling and leaving black charred marks as it went along. It seemed as if she was fighting a war as the flames enveloped her body. It was a war, but would she win?

The pain Jaya felt had an unpleasant warmth to it as it ate away at her body. The fire seared through her abdomen, her mind conceding to the torment. It was though Jaya's blood had become acidic, intent at destroying and blackening her body from the inside out.

This was what she was meant to do, wasn't it?

Jaya writhed in pain and let out a scream. The flames whipped at her neck and her throat went raw as her body burned. This was her duty.

Jaya's clothes burnt away and soon enough, the flames had charred away almost all of her skin. The inferno lashed out at her organs and the flames almost looked like they were dancing.

She was a devoted wife.

Jaya's skin intertwined with her clothing and the dupatta which had covered her face burnt away and the fire assaulted her head.

Before everything went black and before her body became ash, Jaya managed to process one thought.

Her name meant victory.

Had she been victorious?