Mrs. Forget-me-not weds Mr. Forget-it-all

She was called the Flower of Bombay

The salt in his hair sparkled in the light of day

She loved to read and leap beyond her age

He was at a number where he was already Brage

He shared her father’s friendship and generation

She was magnanimous & flew in the face of man made segregation

He worshipped a different God,and even wanted a different nation

She was sweetly sixteen when she held his hand eternally with elation

She couldn’t contain her debouching love in a tranquil demeanour

And he too couldn’t enshroud ,how he was enamoured of her

When she came of age they decided to enter a wedlock

It left her family in a precipitous shock

But a heart wants what it wants

She chose him amongst the nation’s taunts

She left her father’s house to enter His

Left a Hindu Miss to become an Islamic Missus

The wedlock was new so were the responsibilities

Both of them trying to fulfil them to the best of their capabilities

Soon enough they had babies to look after

As she had their’s, he chose to become a theocracy’s father

They got busy nurturing their respective neonates

She longed to see him, but he didn’t have dates

He got busier and busier, through the passing years

Never realised because,she smiled, to mask her tears

Her love was sterling and gave her strength

With no resent, for him she walked lengths

For her, he still was the poet she fell in love with

Sans verses and couplets, he still was her wordsmith

Her brain was trained to be holy

But her heart couldn’t ignore the folly

She missed her loved ones in this crowd atypical

Especially him who once used to be whimsical

The agony in her heart was tormenting

She turned a blind eye to the love, depleting

A forlorn,desperate heart wanted to thaw the proclivity

She wanted to remain head-over-heels in love till eternity

An obdurate she,refused to bend the knee

So with her mummified love story, she flee

To the opposite side of the world

Where her world of what-ifs would unfurl

When she was nearing the end of her time

Her love was still solid, while his was already sublime

Even when she sat to write her last letter

Her heart got the better of her head, which knew better

Her letter was an evidence of her constant love

Amongst all the coastal rocks stood like a cove

She suffered so much but refused to be empathised with

Stood tall, proving selfless love sure isn’t a myth

She never returned to her motherland

Never had a chance to again hold her beloved’s hand

She departed from this life, a solitary loon

But stood out like the beautiful but flawed full moon

He decided to father a nation

Starved their world;for his creation

She a stoic, loved both their parts

The love drained, desiccating her own heart

P.S.

(I have attached Mrs.Rattanbai "Ruttie"Jinnah’s

last letter to her beloved,

Quaid-e-Azam,Mr.Muhammad Ali Jinnah

which is the epitome of an altruistic love)

“Darling,

Thank you for all you have done. If ever in my bearing your once tuned senses found any irritability or unkindness- be assured that in my heart there was place only for a great tenderness and a greater pain- a pain my love without hurt. When one has been as near to the reality of Life (which after all is Death) as I have been dearest, one only remembers the beautiful and tender moments and all the rest becomes a half veiled mist of unrealities. Try and remember me beloved as the flower you plucked and not the flower you tread upon.

I have suffered much sweetheart because I have loved much. The measure of my agony has been in accord to the measure of my love.

Darling I love you – I love you – and had I loved you just a little less I might have remained with you – only after one has created a very beautiful blossom one does not drag it through the mire. The higher you set your ideal the lower it falls.

I have loved you my darling as it is given to few men to be loved. I only beseech you that the tragedy which commenced in love should also end with it.

Darling Goodnight and Goodbye.

Ruttie.”