Ever since I saw "The Lord Of The Rings" triology, I've somehow found it difficult not to associate even the mere thought of a ring from the power it be to the wearer. I'm not sure if you people also feel the same or is it just me who has got all the liberties in the world to be weird.
Anyhow, I am sure you people don't want to read another piece about the Tolkien masterpiece and trust me, this ain't about any of it. This one is the story of a ring which is still waiting for the touch of the soft white finger of a fairy that it was bought for, even though there are walls higher than the Mount Everest, forests denser than the Amazons, deserts hotter than the Sahara's and colder than Siberia, that lay in the way.
I can't help but remember how one early morning, Kevin Jonas flew to New Jersey and surprised the love of his life, Daniella, by showing at her doorstep on his knees with a ring in his hand, love in his heart, and hope in his eyes. True to her love, she didn't dissappoint him.
With no offence to the Jonas brothers who, I know now, are immensely talented and popular, but before that day I didn't even knew about. And if it wasn't for Kevin's similarity to the younger years of the father of the girl I loved, she wouldn't have mentioned about him in his tweets, and I wouldn't have known about him, or anyone else.
Coming from India, the only way I had known to propose a girl was to stop her on the side of a road, or perhaps at a bus stop, and profess your feelings with a rose or a choclate in hand. If the girl said yes then take up the issue with the parents, and if they agreed, an engagement where rings are exchanged, followed by a wedding.
But I wasn't in love with an Indian girl. I was in love with an American beauty. A beauty that my eyes can't find a parallel off to this day. They say love is blind, but mine came with dumb as a spare. I thought that maybe I need to ask her the way Kevin Jonas did and I bought a ring that I thought was worthy of even entertaining a thought of touching her soft, pious skin.
So what's so special about that ring, you will ask?
Well, the ring is not special for the stones that it carries, or for the hole it may have burnt in my bank account, but for the feelings that were associated with it, and my love which the mute stones can't speak about.
Everyman who dares to love a girl often associates a value with her, knowingly or unknowingly offcourse. That value can be judged only from as to what extent is he ready to open his purse strings, which basically would mean, how much of what he's got, is he ready to spend on her?
I valued her at priceless and opened the sluez gates of my bank account. Ruins was what I was ready to accept and anything short appeared inappropriate.
But why do I point to the ruins if I love her so much? Am I so cheap as to make a statement of what my love cost me?
No my dear friends, that is not the case. Rather I am mentioning about it to show you how much she meant to me, cause somehow the only way in this modern world to show the depth of your love is to show what worth was the money that was spent on a girl, with a smile.
Now friends, I would leave it upto you people to decide what value I attach to her, but here's a story of my every single penny that I had, and that I spent to buy something I thought was worthy enough to speak the language of my love to the only thing good I saw in my life.
The money that I used to buy the ring had a bit of that 1 dollar that was all that I was left with in my account, three months after migrating, when I had no work, had eaten only one meal a day for three days, with the meal consisting of a few slices of bread with a hint of jam that I was running out off, with a glass of tea.
The money that I paid for the ring included the money that was never paid when this University Gold Medallist went to wash a butcher shop with his hands and a rag, and when he went to clean the carpets and toilets in a factory, simply because you don't get paid for working two days as that constitutes trial period which is free service. And friends, after having spent 20 years of my life getting education in schools, colleges and a university, and another 5 years imparting educatins to high school kids, I couldn't see myself doing that work. The time was desperate but the man was proud of his heritage. Perhaps a bit too proud, but that would be a subjective judgement.
The money I used to buy the ring contained the missing money that the two guys ran away without paying me after using my cab after assaulting me. The money contained a missing part of the $825 that I paid as ambulance expenses as I was taken to Lyell McEwin Hospital, unconscious on the night of 18th June, 2008.
The money I spent had a part of the money that the Centrelink refused to pay me when I had nothing to buy food as I had no job, just because I hadn't been here for long enough.
The money belonged to a person who knew he was all on his own in this cruel world that won't even feed him, leave alone give him shelter, were he to loose his job for any reason. And that money was all this man had.
Now what do you think would have been her worth to me if I went to ruins for her with a smile?
Trust Your Love!! But don't blame me for it!!
Amanpreet Singh Rai