Wednesday, April 22, 2009


A while back I did a post on my Indian hey-I’m-a-married-lady necklace, so today I’m giving my ring equal time.

To call it a ring is somewhat inaccurate -- it’s actually two rings fused together. Ring One, the engagement part, has the diamond in it, and as you can see, it's not a traditional engagement ring. That’s one reason I love it, and it’s also why the wedding band is a duplicate -- there was just no way to get a regular wedding band to go with it.

Ring Two was made by a talented local jeweler using the trusty and ancient lost-wax process. The sapphire was cut to match the diamond, but I selected the color of the stone, which was surprsingly dificult, as sapphires come in a wide range of blues as well as pinks, oranges, greens, violets, browns, and clear. A few days before the wedding, the jeweler fused them together, leaving me feeling disturbingly light-handed. Silver just can't match the reassuring heft of platinum.

Speaking of platinum, the majority of it comes from South Africa. The sapphire is most likely from Thailand, Sri Lanka or Madagascar; the diamond, again probably from South Africa. The origins of these materials are difficult to trace, however I can tell you that Mowgli made sure the diamond was not a blood diamond.

From various parts of the world, the ring was cobbled together, made its way to St. Louis, and was selected by my husband. With no help from me, I might add.

Ah, the symbolism, where do we start? Two becoming one, a meandering loop of metal joined to another meandering loop of metal, a light stone and a dark stone, the imperfection of the joint that’s only visible from the inside. Mowgli chose one part, I chose the other. I wasn't there when he selected it, but he had my guidelines in mind -- no huge stones, bezel or flush setting because I'm klutzy, white metal.

And we have me, born and raised in the United States, and my husband, born and raised in Southern India, and somehow meeting and melding. It’s as much of a mystery as exactly where the stones and metal of the ring originated, and I care much more about the fact that it all came together than the whys and hows. Now it’s on my hand, and he’s in my life, and he and it make me happy pretty much every time I look at either one.

1 comment:

  1. My ring is also two rings fused together. Each dips in the same place, to form a nest for the stone. (We used to have some clever name for the dip but I can't remember it now.) Everyone who notices my ring(s) comments on how it suits me and reflects who I am -- an unconventional take on a conventional concept.


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