Maryam Jinnah

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.