Mr and Mrs Jinnah Read online

  ‘I have had such a ripping time with you all in Hyderabad that I am quite spoilt for this fun-forsaken place,’ Ruttie wrote in a letter dated 9 February 1920 (Padmaja Naidu Papers, NMML archives).

  According to Urdu biography Quaidi Ibtidai Tees Saal (Quaid’s Early Thirty Years) by Rizwan Ahmad (Karachi: General Knowledge Academy, 1977), Jinnah shifted from his first-floor apartment in Colaba ‘because it was very noisy outside with children playing and ayahs gossiping’ and moved to a house he rented from Justice Ranade on Mount Pleasant Road ‘which suited him better, being quiet and pleasant’. However, ‘Mohdali Jinah, Hon’ble Mr. Barrister’, begins appearing as a homeowner in the Times of India Directory from 1912 onwards, and the address: Mount Pleasant Road, Malabar Hills. At that time, only four other Muslims owned houses on Malabar Hill, including the Aga Khan.

  By the time K.H. Khurshid went to live in Jinnah’s house, it had been razed and rebuilt into a grand marble mansion but the locale was unchanged: ‘About a 100 yards down Mount Pleasant Road, from the point where it branches off from Gibbs Road, lay the house, perched on the eastern slopes of Malabar Hill, which project into the Arabian Sea over a tiny peninsula. As you entered through the main gates, the road went down a slope and round a big papal tree which overlooked the front porch of the house, some of its branches almost touching the windows on the balcony above . . . The rooms were sparsely but tastefully furnished. There were hardly any decorations on the wall.’ Cited in Memories of Jinnah.

  On Jinnah’s very modest household arrangements as a bachelor, G. Allana writes: ‘Before Ruttenbai married the Quaid, his house was being run by a well-trusted and devoted servant, Visan, who served the Quaid-e-Azam for very many years. He was his valet, his cashier for running the household budget, his bearer, the servant in charge and in command of the entire household staff—rolled into one.’

  Syed Nabiullah’s letter to Padmaja, undated, from the Padmaja Naidu Papers (NMML archives).

  Chapter Seven

  Raja Amir Ahmed Khan’s memories of Ruttie from Ruttie Jinnah by Khwaja Razi Haider. Haider also writes of the Raja’s second meeting with Ruttie at the Maidens Hotel in Delhi as a boy of nine: ‘On this occasion she gave him five hundred rupees, a great deal of money at that time, to buy himself some toys.’

  On the maharaja of Mahmudabad’s legendary hospitality, Chagla writes of his experience dining in his palace in Lucknow for the drafting of the Nehru Report in 1928: ‘I remember the first evening when we sat down to dinner. Our host was the Maharaja of Mahmudabad, a prince famed for his hospitality. I believe Montagu, who was Secretary of State for India, reports in his diary that when he dined with the Maharaja of Mahmudabad he served him a dinner which had 42 courses. We were almost as liberally treated at Kaiser Bag as Montagu was. I remember the first dinner—we started with Western food—soup, fish, meat and so on. Then came Muslim food—Murgh Mussalam, Biryani, and all the famed dishes of the North, and finally Hindu food with puris and vegetables and then Hindu sweets. When I started I thought the dinner consisted only of the English courses, and I ate my fill. When the Muslim and Hindu dishes arrived, I could only sit and watch. Motilal Nehru and Tej Bahadur Sapru, who were relatively old men, kept pace, however, and did full justice to whatever was served at the dinner. I still remember Motilalji telling me: “Young man, how will you fight for your country if you don’t know how to eat?”’

  See the issues of the Bombay Chronicle of April 1918 for the build-up and proceedings of the Delhi War Conference, held from 27 to 28 April 1918.

  Ruttie’s remark on Maidens Hotel in Alice Reading’s letter dated 13 February 1924, quoted in Jinnah and His Times.

  The Delhi War Conference, an attempt to demonstrate Indian support to the British government, was characterized as ‘a sad fiasco’ in a letter from Willingdon to Montagu, 30 April 1918, cited in Ambassador of Hindu–Muslim Unity: Jinnah’s Early Politics by Ian Bryant Wells (New Delhi: Permanent Black, 2005).

  Whether Jinnah intended it or not, Ruttie’s conversion to Islam became of strategic importance to him later in his political career, especially in his election campaign of 1945 when his Muslim rivals openly levelled allegations about his un-Islamic marriage to undermine his credibility as a Muslim leader.

  Gauba who converted to Islam in 1933 describes the reaction of Lahore’s Cosmopolitan Club members to his conversion: ‘It was a sort of, that I had really committed suicide, socially and politically.’ Cited in the Oral History Transcript of K.L. Gauba (Account No. 76, NMML archives).

  Paisa Akbar, Lahore, 22 April 1918, quoted in Khwaja Razi Haider’s Ruttie Jinnah.

  See In Quest of Jinnah: Diary, Notes and Correspondence of Hector Bolitho, edited by Sharif al Mujahid, for details on Jinnah’s ‘almost tiresome celibacy’ and his ‘mental and moral celibacy’. Bolitho writes in a later expunged passage: ‘A contemporary who knew him well told me: “Jinnah was a cold fish—much too formal ever to be a good lover.’ Khurshid, Jinnah’s private secretary, is also quoted as saying: ‘He was by nature celibate. Marriage was alien to his nature.” Also, Ruttie’s words as reported by Sarojini Naidu in her letter to Padmaja (see chapter twenty) about the ‘unhappiness that began from the first day almost’ and feeling stifled because of ‘his lack of the spirit of the joy of life’.

  On Jinnah’s need for the female gaze, Urdu writer Saadat Hasan Manto provides an insight in his essay, ‘Jinnah Sahib’, based on an interview with Jinnah’s chauffeur: ‘The only indoor sport the Quaid-e-Azam liked was billiards. Whenever the urge to play came upon him, he would order the billiards room to be opened and although it used to be cleaned and dusted every day, the servants would still take one extra look at everything on such days to be sure that all was spick and span. . . . Twelve balls would be placed in front of the sahib and he would carefully choose three and then begin playing. Miss Jinnah would often be there too. Sahib would place his cigar between his lips and study the position of the ball that he planned to hit. This would take several minutes, as he would examine it from every angle. He would weigh the cue in his hand, run it over his long and slim fingers as if it was a bow he was going to play a stringed instrument with, take aim and then stop short of executing the stroke because he had thought of a better angle. He only played his shot when he was fully satisfied that it was the right one. If the shot went through as planned, he would smile triumphantly at his sister. From Bitter Fruit: The Very Best of Saadat Hasan Manto, edited and translated by Khalid Hasan (New Delhi: Penguin Books India, 2008).

  Ruttie Jinnah’s letter to Syed Mahmud dated 15 May, Galloway House, Naini Tal, from Syed Mahmud’s correspondence with Jinnah (NMML archives).

  Syed Mahmud (1889–1971), barrister and a doctorate holder from Munster University, Germany, belonged to a rich zamindar family in Bihar, and was a friend of Sarojini Naidu and Jinnah.

  Chapter Eight

  Among Ruttie’s book collection is The Complete Works of Alfred Lord Tennyson bearing the inscription: ‘To dear Rati from her loving Papa. 14th December 1911.’ The date of the birth of her little brother, Jamshed. The facsimile of the front page, the table of contents (signed Rutty Petit) and front-page etching of ‘The Lover’s Library’ in large font are reproduced in Some Aspects of Quaid-i-Azam’s Life by Syed Sharifuddin Pirzada (Islamabad: National Commission on Historical and Cultural Research, 1978).

  Lady Petit’s daughter-in-law (also Lady Petit) is quoted as telling Bolitho: ‘He [Jinnah] was always so gracious to ladies. He would compliment us on our saris. The other politicians were grand and swept one aside.’ Cited In Quest of Jinnah.

  The proceedings of the Bombay Provincial War Conference, 10 June 1918 (India Confidential Proceedings, India Office Records and Private Papers), vol. 36, cited in The Works of Quaid-i-Azam 1917–1918, vol. 4, edited by Dr Riaz Ahmad.

  Shantaram Chawl, situated in the heart of Bombay populated by industrial and government workers, was a popular venue for public meetings for the nationalists partly because of its l
arge compound and adjacent buildings which could accommodate a crowd of up to 10,000. Special permits had to be obtained from the police commissioner to hold these open-air meetings at the chawl. Later, in the 1920s when public meetings began to draw crowds in lakhs instead of thousands, political meetings began to be held on the Chowpatty beach.

  On the second court case filed by Sir Dinshaw against Jinnah, Aziz Beg writes in Jinnah and His Times: ‘Sir Dinshaw Petit filed another suit saying that Jinnah had abducted his daughter. Before Mr Jinnah could reply to the court’s query, Ruttie stepped forward and said: “Sir, Mr Jinnah has not abducted me; in fact I have abducted him; so there is no case and he should be immediately exonerated of all charges.” The court was surprised, the father was angry, Ruttie’s mother flabbergasted and Jinnah was just smiling.’

  A report carried in the Times of India of 28 May 1918: ‘A meeting of the Parsi priests of Bombay was held on Sunday at the Dady Seth’s Fire Temple, Agiari Lane, Bombay, to express its disapprobation of marriages of Parsi women with non-Parsis. Shams-ul-Ulma Dastur Darab Peshotan Sanjana was voted to the chair. In opening the proceedings, the Chairman stated that during the past few months the Parsi community had been greatly grieved by marriages of Parsi girls with non-Parsis such as Christians, Hindus and Mohamedans and this feeling of grief was particularly noticeable among the priestly class of the community. They considered that some steps should be taken to prevent such unions in the future. Unions such as these were to be highly deprecated in the interests of the community and he exhorted Parsi parents not to allow their daughters to mix with non-Parsis until they had received sufficient instructions according to the tenets of the Zoroastrian religion. Dastur Dinsha J. Garda then moved a resolution condemning marriages of Parsis with non-Parsis, and particularly marriages of Parsi girls with non-Parsis, and calling upon the Parsi community to adopt measures to prevent such unions, one of these being to give their children religious instructions and to teach them to follow in the footsteps of their great forebears who had left their mark on their ancient history. The resolution was carried. In the next resolution it was affirmed that when a Parsi woman married a non-Parsi, she left her fold, and therefore when she died, or when any Parsi, man or woman, who lived with such a woman died, no Parsi priest should perform the funeral ceremony in connection with their deaths. The resolution would also apply to a Parsi woman who professed to follow Zoroastrianism even after marrying a non-Parsi.’

  Five years younger than Sir Dinshaw Petit, Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy the Fifth was not only president of the Parsi panchayat’s board of trustees, like his father before him, but also the sheriff of Bombay in 1915. In June 1917, he started a drive to extend Lord Willingdon’s term as governor, which was expiring the following year.

  The proceedings and resolutions passed by the Parsi panchayat in meetings held on 21 July 1918, 28 July 1918 and 2 February 1919, reproduced from reports in Kaiser-e-Hind (2 June 1918, 28 July 1918 and 23 March 1919), and in Jam-e-Jamshed (26 May 1918 and 4 February 1919), quoted in Parsee Prakashan Daftar (No. 5, Part 5, 1919).

  Chapter Nine

  Orient Club was one of the many clubs started by educated Indians to counter the racial discrimination they faced in joining the Gymkhana clubs. It was opened on 1 May 1900, and according to the Times of India Directory and Yearbook, 1918, ‘owes its origins to a desire to provide a first class Club, managed on European lines, to which gentlemen of culture and position could be admitted irrespective of race, creed or politics, on terms of social equality. The immediate object is to encourage more intimate and friendly relations between the Leaders of Native Society and European gentlemen. Provision to admit Ruling Princes as members without ballot. Jinnah was on the management committee but according to Kanji Dwarkadas (Ruttie Jinnah: The Story of a Great Friendship), he resigned from the club after his marriage. He used to go there to play Chess and Billiards but never cards because “he abhorred every kind of gambling and all games of chance”.’

  Jinnah’s unsuccessful attempt to be elected to the Western India Turf Club and that he was unable to find anyone prepared to propose him for membership appears in the Bombay Police Secret Abstract, 1918, with the Bombay Police suggesting that Jinnah’s personal antagonism towards the Bombay governor, Willingdon, stemmed from this. According to the police, Jinnah attributed his failure to get in to the club to the influence of Willingdon. Cited in Ambassador of Hindu–Muslim Unity: Jinnah’s Early Politics by Ian Bryant Well (Lahore: Vanguard Books).

  From Gauba’s Oral History Transcript: ‘You see, we were so important in Lahore society at that time that my wife’s invitation was a bigger command than even the Government House’s command. Nobody would venture to refuse an invitation from her. But yet, there was not that mingling that you could say that the prejudice was over . . . Of course she had her own entertainments and her own friends and she and Kanwarani Dalip Singh dominated Lahore society . . . She was unusual in the sense that she kept a beautiful home and she made our home one of the most attractive homes in Lahore. She started a fashion in Lahore, the fashion of modern houses. She was the mainspring of ideas of the new life and new living . . . But the prejudice did not quite disappear. These things are not decided as matters of reason, but as matters of feeling.’

  Jinnah’s speech on the floor of the House on the Hindu Marriages Validity Bill, 5 September 1918, cited in the Proceedings of the Indian Legislative Council April 1918 to March 1919, vol. LVII, Calcutta, 1919; quoted in The Works of Quaid-i-Azam, 1917–1918, vol. 4.

  For a portrait of Ruttie’s brother Fali who succeeded his father to the baronetcy, see ‘Third Baronet: Sir Dinshaw Petit’ in Dropping Names.

  References to Jinnah’s Jeeves, Visan, in Quaid-e-Azam Jinnah: The Story of a Nation by G. Allana (Lahore: Ferozsons, 1967), and Quaidi Itbidat Tees Saal by Rizwan Ahmad.

  ‘The haven and refuge for briefless barristers who were waiting for their brief was that great institution—the Bar Gymkhana. I did not leave the chamber at the end of the day until Jinnah had finished his conferences and was going home. He would then take me along and drop me at the Bar Gymkhana. We members used to sit there playing bridge and poker and I must confess also drinking . . . Friday evening was a great occasion at the Bar Gymkhana, as the day after was Saturday and not a court day. We used to have dinner at the Bar Gymkhana and Azad, as the most affluent member in the company, would send his car to fetch the most delectable food which we enjoyed while we carried on with our game that lasted till midnight and even later. Sunday morning used to be what was known as Sir Jamshed Kanga’s durbar. He would come at about 10 and stay on till about noon, and treat us all to beer.’ From Roses in December.

  Bolitho writes in Jinnah: Creator of Pakistan: ‘When another old friend of this time was asked, “But was Jinnah absolutely without passion?” he answered, “It may sound ridiculous but I believe his only passion was for newspapers. He had them sent from all over the world: he cut pieces out of them, annotated them, and stuck them into books. He would do this for hours—all through his life, he loved newspapers.”’

  ‘Dear Mr Mahmud,’ begins Ruttie’s letter from Mount Pleasant Road, Malabar Hill, on 5 January (year not mentioned), inviting Syed Mahmud to dinner. ‘We are so sorry not to have seen you when you called yesterday. I don’t know whether you are stopping in Bombay or just a bird of passage. Anyhow if Saturday still finds you here—will you come and dine with us—quietly, perhaps another friend or two. Yours sincerely, R. Jinnah.’ Syed Mahmud’s correspondence with Jinnah (NMML archives).

  Nowhere is the transformation in Jinnah’s style of dressing after his marriage better illustrated than in this anecdote related by G.L. Mehta, who saw Jinnah for the first time in 1913 when both of them were travelling on the same steamer. Mehta, who was only thirteen then, says he was very struck by Jinnah’s carefully cultivated dress code. ‘What was most amusing was that at about 5 pm when he would come out on the deck after his nap and tea, he would put on an evening cap even on the
steamer! Nobody used to put on that kind of cap, and even in England I saw only workers wearing that kind of cap.’ (G.L. Mehta, Oral History Transcript, Account No. 47, NMML archives). After Ruttie came into his life, he never made that kind of sartorial mistake ever again, wearing custom-made silk suits and shirts tailored in Paris and London.

  Ruttie’s physical appearance and charm were universally acknowledged among her friends as irresistible, as this letter from Sarojini Naidu to Padmaja Naidu, dated 6 August 1922, shows: ‘Who do you think came to see me yesterday—the daintiest, naughtiest, darlingest of all my many visitors, smarter too, all in tawny gold with tricky little ways and full of sparkling mischief. Guess once, twice and three times—No, not Ruttie, but a doggy counterpart of Ruttie—a little Pom belonging to Janakidas.’ From the Padmaja Naidu Papers (NMML archives).

  Margaret Monck, daughter of Viceroy Lord Chelmsford, recounts Indian ladies making their curtsey before the viceroy and his family: ‘In early 1919, they used to have drawing rooms like the ones at Court [in England] and the Viceroy and his family sat on a dais where the ladies of Simla used to come and make their curtsey. They were very nervous and they used to make their curtsey and very often would faint. The Viceroy’s butler named Jordan would stand behind them, sort of ready to catch them in case they fainted . . . they came dressed in their best clothes, even the children in beautiful organdies and silks.’ Cited in Oral History Transcript (Account No. 225, NMML archives).

  Lady Curzon’s letter, cited in Lady Curzon’s India: Letters of a Vicerine, edited by John Bradley (New York: Beaufort Books, 1986).

  Lady Reading’s letters, one dated 13 February 1924 and the other undated, quoted in Some Aspects of Quaid-i-Azam’s Life by Syed Sharifuddin Pirzada (Islamabad: National Commission on Historical and Cultural Research, 1978).