The Invitation That Shook Malabar Hill
The cream-colored envelope arrived at Fatima Jinnah's dental clinic on a Tuesday, borne by a liveried servant of Sir Dinshaw Petit. Inside, the cardstock whispered of impending betrayal in elegant copperplate:
Sir Dinshaw and Lady Petit request the pleasure of Dr. Fatima Jinnah's company at the marriage of their daughter Rattanbai to Mr. Mohammed Ali Jinnah, on Saturday, the 19th of April, 1918, at 5 o'clock in the evening.
Fatima's sterilizer hissed in the silence. She read the words three times, the formal English phrases blurring before her eyes. Rattanbai. The girl she'd once treated for a toothache—a child of sixteen with laughing eyes and a tendency to blush. And Jinnah—her Bhai, her anchor, her sometimes-tyrant—a man of forty-one who should have known better.
The servant cleared his throat. "There is a postscript, Doctor Memsahib."
In her brother's precise hand, below the engraved text: Your presence is required, not requested. - M.A.J.
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The Wedding That Divided Communities
Sunset painted the Petit mansion in gold and shadow. Fatima stood apart on the veranda, her navy sari deliberately somber against the Parsi women's jewel-toned garas. Through the french windows, she watched the ceremony unfold like a bizarre theatrical production:
Jinnah, rigid in Westminster-cut morning dress, reciting Zoroastrian vows beside a radiant Rattanbai in traditional Parsi wedding attire. Sir Dinshaw's strained smile. The shocked murmurs of Muslim League members crowded beside Bombay's Parsi elite.
"A political alliance," whispered a Congress politician nearby. "Jinnah secures Petit's mills and the Parsis get a Muslim spokesman."
Fatima's nails dug into her palms. She remembered another wedding twenty-five years earlier—Emibai's trembling hands, their mother's tears, the simple Muslim ceremony that had felt like a funeral. This glittering affair seemed somehow more tragic.
When Jinnah placed the wedding ring on Rattanbai's finger, Fatima turned away—and found herself facing a young Nehru, who offered a sympathetic grimace.
"Love makes revolutionaries of us all," he murmured, "even the most proper."
"Love?" Fatima echoed bitterly. "Is that what they're calling it?"
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The Confrontation at Dawn
She waited until the last wedding guest had departed, until the servants began sweeping up marigold petals and broken glassware. Jinnah found her in the library, standing before the portrait of Sir Dinshaw's grandfather—a man who'd built his empire while Fatima's own father struggled with debt.
"You missed the toast," Jinnah said, his breath smelling of champagne and exhaustion.
Fatima didn't turn. "Did you quote Shakespeare again? 'Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments'?"
A pause. "Milton, actually. 'He for God only, she for God in him.'"
That finally made her face him. "She's a child, Bhai! Her dolls are barely packed away! And you—" Her voice broke. "You swore after Emibai you'd never—"
Jinnah's composure cracked. "You think I wanted this? Her father threatened to disinherit her! The community was already shunning her!"
"So you married her to save her reputation?" Fatima's laugh was hollow. "How very Victorian."
He gripped her shoulders, his wedding ring cold against her skin. "Listen to me. That girl in there—" he jerked his head toward the staircase, "—she defied her family, her priests, everyone to be with me. While you—" His eyes narrowed. "You who lecture me on courage—you won't even attend your own brother's wedding properly."
Fatima wrenched free. "You want me to celebrate this? A marriage that will make you the laughingstock of both communities? Muslims will say you corrupted a Parsi girl, Parsis will say you seduced their princess—"
"Then let them talk!" Jinnah's shout echoed in the cavernous room. "I have spent my life bowing to their expectations! For once, I have chosen something for myself!"
The truth hung between them—not politics, not strategy, but a middle-aged man's desperate grasp at happiness.
Fatima looked at her brother—really looked—and saw the silver in his hair, the permanent furrow between his brows, the loneliness he carried like a second shadow. Her anger drained away, leaving only sorrow.
"She'll break your heart," she whispered.
Jinnah's smile was terrible in its resignation. "Then at least it will have been felt."
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The First Tea
Rattanbai found her the next morning in the garden. The new bride moved with a grace that belied her youth, her silk slippers whispering through dew-soaked grass.
"You don't like me," she said without preamble, offering a teacup. "But we both love him."
Fatima accepted the cup—Darjeeling, steeped perfectly. "You're a child playing at marriage."
Rattanbai's chin lifted. "I'm old enough to know that your brother hasn't slept through the night in years. Old enough to see how he worries over you." She gestured toward Fatima's clinic across the city. "He bought that building for you, did you know? Paid triple because the owner didn't want a female dentist."
The revelation struck like a physical blow. Jinnah had never said a word—had in fact lectured her for weeks about fiscal responsibility.
Rattanbai smiled sadly. "He shows love through action, not poetry. You should know that better than anyone."
For the first time, Fatima saw beyond the girl's youth to the woman emerging—sharp, observant, and painfully brave.
"He'll expect you to give up your studies," Fatima warned. "Become a proper society wife."
"Then he'll be disappointed." Rattanbai's eyes glittered. "I intend to study law. And we'll see who shocks Bombay more—the Muslim dentist or the Parsi barrister."
Against her will, Fatima felt the ghost of a smile. "You'll need better metaphors for court."
"Then teach me." Rattanbai linked arms with her, and they walked back toward the house—two women bound to the same complicated man, one by blood, one by vow, both by choice.
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Historical Anchors:
1. Wedding Date - Actually April 19, 1918 at Petit mansion
2. Age Difference - Jinnah 41, Rattanbai 16 (born 1900)
3. Inter-Community Tensions - Muslim-Parsi marriages were scandalous
4. Nehru's Presence - Though political rivals, he attended socially
Key Themes:
· Sibling Loyalty vs. Moral Disapproval - Fatima's protective conflict
· Women's Solidarity - Unexpected understanding between rivals
· Jinnah's Humanity - His rarely-seen emotional vulnerability