Maryam Jinnah Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Was to sacrifice, struggle and sacrifice in the poor destiny of yours,
Rattanbai “Rutti” Petit, the daughter of Sir Dinshaw Petit,
From whom sought he the hands of yours,
The flower of Bombay,
A young and beautiful girl,
But what did you really get from Jinnah
As his second wife?

A girl of the Gujarati origin and lineage, a Parsi girl,
Young and beautiful,
You thought of living into your dreams of life
As he asked for your hands
And the friend of a type somehow with a nagging
Accepted it,
But the groom turned he divisive and communal
Instead of siding with his wife.

On marking him, taking a different route, following the policies of an isolationist,
A separatist, a divisionary
Moving along fanatical and communal lines
And the helplessness was that of
Nehru too after the chair,
You separated from, lived in isolation
And passed away young.

Rattanbai, to change your name was a mistake no doubt,
Is it reflective of the poor destiny of any woman,
The meek and submissive womankind
Full with the milk of human kindness,
But the masculine wolf in no mood of sparing the poor lamb
And it was true of you, isn’t it?

If the things had to take a U-turn as thus along the communal lines,
Why did he marry you,
Why did he ask the hands of a young Parsi girl
Like that of yours,
Which but I approve of it not,
If he had to go along the communal, divisive lines?
Maryam, your soul got peace when
Your daughter Dina married a Parsi boy,
As history never spares anyone,
Be he anyone of it.