diamonds were once believed to be splinters from falling stars &
as a child I was certain they would taste delicious
My diamond story
All diamonds tell a tale of their own, or so I like to think. I recently fell captivated by Vashi’s story, rich in history, discreet and charming just like their diamonds, and so felt compelled to tell my one stone saga. My first diamond was a faux and excessively sparkling stone on a kid’s ring I begged my Mom to buy me. Back in my room with my new present, it was so pretty that I decided to pop it into my mouth. I was convinced it would taste as lovely as it looked. But as I talked to my bears and dressed my dolls, the ring, lolling around on my tongue, got stuck between my gapped teeth. I paced my room, panicked by the ring marooned between my mouth with the stone peeking out between my lips. Eventually I plucked up the courage and shed the shame I felt in asking my Mom for help. Of course, she just laughed and told me I was a weird kid. I guess I am. Diamonds have always captivated me it seems. Of all the stones, they are certainly the ones I love the most. Emeralds are too green, rubies feel archaic and overly opulent in an older lady way…and sapphires, well if it’s not the size of the one in Titanic, I’m not particularly keen. Diamonds are colorless, isn’t that curious? Colourless yet so full of colour, reflecting light in every which way. Ancient Romans believed diamonds to be splinters from falling stars, and as a child, I was certain they would taste delicious. Star splinters do sound like something I would love to have fall on my tongue, and as weird as that might sound, I know you’d be curious too. I like diamonds underneath locks of messy hair, tucked away and glinting on ears. I like diamonds topped with creamy pearls or set in chunky gold on rings, worn on fingers with natural nails. I like diamonds that stand for love and shine with a commitment I cannot fathom at 26. There are just because diamonds, fancy party diamonds, diamonds that cluster and group around a neck or sit solitary amongst the ticking tiny hands of a watch. They are colourless and curious and they hold emotions of their own; I think the child- me would be enthralled by this hour I spent underneath 6 vases of flowers, an old pink sweater, fingers and ears glinting beneath all these diamonds. I can see her standing there right next to me, hands on cheeks, exclaiming in joy, ‘oh my, how delicious!’
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