The Society Debut
The monsoon heat clung to Bombay like a wet silk saree as Rattanbai Petit made her society debut at the Governor's Garden Party. On Jinnah's arm, the eighteen-year-old moved through the crowd with unnerving poise, her ivory gara embroidery shimmering under Japanese lanterns. Fatima watched from the sidelines, her own practical cotton sari feeling suddenly drab.
"They're calling her the 'Parsi Pearl,'" whispered Mrs. Naidu, wife of a Congress politician. "Though I hear old Sir Dinshaw nearly had an apoplexy when she converted to Islam."
Fatima's smile felt stiff. "Rattanbai remains Zoroastrian. My brother would never ask her to abandon her faith."
The older woman raised an eyebrow. "How very modern. And you? Do you also approve of this… modern arrangement?"
Before Fatima could answer, a ripple of laughter drew their attention. Rattanbai had charmed a circle of British officials by reciting Shakespeare:
"'Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale / Her infinite variety'—though I daresay custom is trying its best with these stuffy parties!"
The colonials laughed uproariously. Jinnah watched his young wife with something akin to wonder—the same look he once reserved for constitutional debates.
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The Salon That Stole Her Circle
By winter, the Jinnahs' Malabar Hill mansion had become Bombay's most coveted invitation. Every Thursday, Rattanbai held a mushaira that blended Persian poetry with Parsi hospitality and Muslim intellectualism. Fatima arrived early for one gathering to find her usual chair occupied by a French diplomat.
"Darling Fati!" Rattanbai floated over, smelling of rose attar and privilege. "We've put you near the kitchen—you don't mind, do you? The ventilation is better for your… clinical sensitivities."
Humiliation burned Fatima's cheeks. For years, she'd hosted Jinnah's political allies in this very room. Now she was being exiled for her "clinical sensitivities."
That evening, she watched Rattanbai effortlessly navigate competing ideologies:
· To Muslim traditionalists: "Your concerns about women's education are so thoughtful—we must discuss them over sherbet"
· To Hindu reformers: "Gandhiji's ideals remind me of our prophet Zoroaster's teachings on equality"
· To British officials: "Your wife's charity work is so inspiring—we colonial women must stick together"
Even Sarojini Naidu, who'd once called the marriage "a tragic farce," now clasped Rattanbai's hands and declared, "This child will bridge our divides!"
Jinnah beamed like a man possessed.
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The Clinic Invasion
Worse was Rattanbai's "interest" in Fatima's work. She began appearing at the clinic with society ladies in tow:
"Look, Lady Reading! My sister-in-law pulls teeth just like a real dentist!"
The Viceroy's wife peered through her lorgnette. "How… hygienic. Do you sterilize the instruments yourself, Dr. Jinnah?"
Rattanbai answered before Fatima could speak: "Oh, she has a native girl for that. The same one who does our laundry!"
Afterward, Fatima confronted her. "These are not zoo animals for your amusement."
Rattanbai's smile didn't reach her eyes. "I'm raising your profile. Soon all of Bombay will know about your little clinic."
"I don't want Bombay to know! I want my patients to feel safe here!"
A pause. Then Rattanbai said softly, "You think they feel safe when you charge them nothing? Poverty hates pity more than prices, Fati."
The unexpected wisdom stung more than cruelty.
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The Birthday That Never Was
On Fatima's thirty-first birthday, Jinnah forgot entirely—preoccupied with Rattanbai's first pregnancy. Fatima arrived at their mansion with a cake she'd baked herself to find the household in turmoil.
"The baby's coming early!" the servant cried.
For twelve hours, Fatima waited outside the bedroom door, listening to Rattanbai's whimpers and Jinnah's anxious pacing. When the doctor emerged at dawn, he beamed:
"A healthy girl! Mrs. Jinnah is asking for you."
Rattanbai lay pale against the pillows, tiny Dina in her arms. She grasped Fatima's hand with surprising strength.
"You must be her guardian if anything happens to me."
Jinnah looked startled. "Ratti, don't speak nonsense."
"Promise me," she insisted, eyes fixed on Fatima. "You're the strongest woman I know."
In that moment, Fatima saw the child beneath the society queen—a girl playing wife, a daughter facing motherhood, a friend seeking anchor. Her resentment crumbled.
"Nothing will happen to you," Fatima said firmly. "I won't allow it."
As if hearing her aunt, baby Dina wrapped her tiny hand around Fatima's finger.
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The Unlikely Alliance
The following week, Rattanbai appeared at the clinic alone—no society entourage, no performative charity. She found Fatima extracting a tooth from a sweeper woman's infected mouth.
When the patient left, Rattanbai said quietly, "Teach me."
"To pull teeth? Don't be absurd."
"No. To be useful."
So began their uneasy truce. On Thursday afternoons, while Jinnah attended council meetings, Rattanbai came to the clinic. She learned to sterilize instruments without fainting, to hold patients' hands during extractions, to keep records in Fatima's coded ledgers.
One afternoon, a young Muslim girl arrived with a broken tooth from a forced marriage consummation. As Fatima treated her, Rattanbai wept silently in the corner.
Afterward, she confessed: "I thought I was brave for marrying for love. But these women… they're brave for surviving."
Fatima handed her a ledger. "Then help me document their bravery."
Together, they compiled stories that would later shape the Muslim personal law reforms:
· Hindu widows denied dental care by in-laws
· Parsi women disinherited for marrying out
· Christian converts unable to access healthcare
· Muslim child-brides with reproductive damage
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The Gift
On Fatima's thirty-second birthday, Rattanbai arrived with a carefully wrapped parcel. Inside lay a silver instrument case engraved with three words: Dr. F. Jinnah - Surgeon.
"I had it made from my grandmother's teaspoons," she said shyly. "So you'll always remember that some traditions are worth melting down."
Jinnah, suddenly remembering the date, looked sheepish. "I've been preoccupied with—"
"—with being a father," Fatima finished gently. "As you should be."
That night, she placed the case beside Emibai's hairpin—two silver offerings from women who'd loved her brother, but who'd also, in their ways, loved her.
Looking out at the lights of Malabar Hill, Fatima realized her jealousy had been misplaced. Rattanbai wasn't stealing her brother; she was giving her a sister.
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Historical Anchors:
1. Rattanbai's Conversion - She never formally converted to Islam
2. Social Context - Parsi-Muslim tensions over intermarriage
3. Dina's Birth - August 1919 timeline accurate
4. Women's Health Data - Early documentation of medical injustices
Key Themes:
· Female Rivalry to Solidarity - Complex relationship evolution
· Class & Privilege - Using social capital for change
· Modern vs Traditional - Navigating competing expectations