How I Saved To Buy My First Real Diamond Ring

When I got my first job as a writer at 21, I wasn’t earning much—just enough to cover the basics and still enjoy the occasional overpriced coffee from my favourite café. The kind of place where the music is soft, the air smells faintly of old books, and the cappuccino always arrives with a perfect swirl (justifying the ₹300 price tag, of course).

Back then—when life was lived between Word docs and weekend plans—I wanted to mark my first year of working with something that felt meaningful. Something personal. A quiet symbol of pride, of earning my place and finding my footing. I showed up every day, built something of my own, and I wanted to honour that.

At the time, I was obsessed with rings. Cartier’s diamond-studded Love Ring sat firmly at the top of my wishlist. I couldn’t afford the real deal that came sealed in the gold and maroon box just yet—but I knew I wanted another diamond ring to mark the moment. A small celebration of growth. A reward from me to me.

I didn’t want a giant solitaire that screams, “look at me!”. Just a simple, everyday ring. Something elegant, something real. Something that could travel with me through all the versions of myself I hadn’t met yet.

Looking back, the idea was probably planted subconsciously years ago. My mom always wore a few natural diamond rings—petite, minimal, always present. I’d seen them on her hands every single day for over two decades. I think the desire came in like muscle memory—natural, unspoken. But now that I was just starting to be financially independent, I didn’t want to borrow hers. I wanted one that was mine.

Of course, I also wanted to say yes to spontaneous trips, buy quirky things off Instagram, and try every serum that promised dewy skin. So saving for a diamond ring was a bit like saying I wanted abs while still eating ghee-soaked aloo parathas. But I tried.

The Game Plan To Buy My First Real Diamond Ring

While I still had my SIPs, I started a second one that my ancestors would be very proud about—a Sindhi Investment Plan for diamonds. I didn’t have any special bank account or an adult version of a piggy bank for this. Every month, I’d set aside whatever I could. Sometimes ₹3,000, sometimes ₹500. Once it was the bonus ₹2,100 that came in on Raksha Bandhan. These savings would lie at the back of my salaried account, like it held a secret.

Did I falter? 100%. There were detours. Zara sales, one too many sheet masks, and at least two Goa plans that made it out of the group chat. But I always came back.

At the heart of it was this belief: milestones deserve more than Instagram captions and selfies in new outfits. I didn’t want to look back and say, “Oh, that was the year I bought four tops I never wore.” I wanted to say, “That was the year I bought my first real diamond.”

Natural diamonds have that kind of magic. They’re forged by time and pressure—basically the same conditions as your twenties—and they carry stories. I didn’t want a flashy knockoff or something synthetic. If I were going to mark my growth—financial, emotional, human—I wanted to do it with something equally real.In a little over a year, I’d saved close to 10% of my total annual income. And then I found it: a delicate ring with petite round diamonds and baguettes set in a quiet geometric design. It didn’t try too hard. It was clean, classic, and felt like it had been waiting for me all along. One Visa swipe later, it was all mine. 

Keeping The Tradition Alive, One Real Diamond Ring At A Time

Since then, it’s become something of a tradition. Every couple of years, I save up about 5-10% of my income to invest in a new natural diamond ring—each one marking a chapter, a stretch of growth, or just a moment I want to honour. As I have grown in my career, thankfully, so have the diamond carats.

Here’s the thing: the joy of buying yourself real diamonds is very different. There’s something powerful about saving slowly, investing intentionally, and knowing exactly what that sparkle stands for. People still ask, “Why not just get a lookalike or a lab-grown diamond one? You’d save so much or even get a larger solitaire at the same price!” But honestly, I’d rather own one real thing that means something than a drawer full of things that don’t.

Now my stack of rings comes with me everywhere—meetings, weddings, dinners, even Mumbai’s traffic jams. Ten years later, they even became part of my wedding trousseau. My diamond rings are not loud in their designs, but every now and then, they catch the light and very loudly say, “Hey, remember what we built together?” 

It started with a small salary and a big dream. And it ended with a stack of diamond rings on my fingers—real ones. These are growth milestones I wear almost every day.

Because sometimes, a little sparkle is the best kind of reminder that you did it.