the ring

I had my mind set on a one carat diamond ring. Then, I watched the movie Blood Diamonds and I hated myself for having wanted such a thing. I even took off my other ring, the one which I never take off, the ring which I was planning to substitute with the one carat ring. That ring I was going to take to a jeweler to buff it and polish it, and then put it away somewhere safe so that maybe one day I could give it to my daughter. I felt strange without my ring, naked, changed, and different. Throughout the day I experienced brief moments of loss, instantly looking at my finger to check for the ring which I felt wasn’t there, only to realize that I had not lost it and it was sitting on my night stand. I kept trying to force it within me that I did not need a ring to make me feel complete. Perhaps I needed time to get used to it. My mom always tells me that for something to become a ritual in your life, it needs about twelve days of constant repetition. I could have tried her philosophy, but instead I picked up the ring and put it on my finger again. That ring was purchased years ago; whatever I did with it now didn’t matter. The only thing I could do was to forbid myself from buying the new ring, the one carat one. This is life in the west, and even if you try to make conscious decisions and lead a life which will not violate the dignity of any other human beings around the world, sometimes it’s just hard. Sometimes you forget, and some other times you just don’t realize that whatever product you are buying, consuming or enjoying has cost a lot more to someone else than the money that you paid for it. As the French would say c’est la vie, but it’s a sad one my friends.