Have you ever felt that certain things you inherit come with unspoken bonds or traditions that shape who you are?
A couple of months ago, my maternal grandmother was going through all her jewelry, as a festival was approaching the next day. She called out my name from another room. When I reached her, she was holding a pair of old silver anklets, and at first glance, I knew they were mine and remembered how I used to be a big fan of them.
I have been with my maternal grandparents since birth. I was the only child around, and especially being a girl, I was always intrigued by all the gold and silver jewelry my grandma had. I would often throw tantrums, demanding things for myself whenever she wore something for any festival. I would argue with my grandma, asking why she didn’t buy me any earrings, or new anklets as I had outgrown all the old ones. She would counter with obvious facts like, “You don’t have your ears pierced, and you can’t wear anklets to school.” But my 5 or 6 year-old brain couldn’t accept those reasons. It’s hilarious to recall that I even used to ask for a mangalsutra (a necklace that a groom ties around a bride’s neck during a Hindu wedding ceremony).
I was around seven when I got my ears pierced, and my grandma surprised me with a pair of small, plain, and simple gold hoops and a beautiful yet simple pair of silver anklets. I fell in love with them and the soothing sound the anklets made while I walked. They accompanied me on all my wild expeditions in the garden.
I don’t remember exactly when or why I stopped wearing them, maybe because it was a hassle to put them on every day after coming back from school and then take them off before going to school the next day. The earrings, however, never caused any issues, so I kept wearing them until last year when my mother got me a new and slightly thicker pair. Over the years, both my mother and grandmother gifted me 4–5 pairs of gold jhumka (earrings), despite me insisting that I would never wear them.
The anklets in my grandmother’s hand two months ago were the same ones from my childhood. The bells attached were worn, telling the story of my fondness for them. Growing up, I lost interest. But I decided to wear those anklets since I was no longer in school. Everyone around me was surprised to see them, as I had frequently mentioned over the years that I wasn’t interested in any kind of jewelry.
Three years ago, when I was living with my parents, my mother asked me to accompany her to a jewelry shop one afternoon, as she had some work there. I agreed without a second thought. We were seated, and my mother was chatting with the goldsmith about something after her work was done. Suddenly, she asked him to show some anklets with a minimal design and asked me to choose. I was confused but didn’t say anything at the time, so I chose one with a design I liked. After we got home, I asked her why they kept buying me these things, even despite tough financial conditions. My mother said, "You’ll understand when you have a child yourself." It sounded strange to me, and I left those anklets with her when I returned to my grandparents’ home.
A week ago, my grandma opened an old trunk she owns to take out some jewelry that she had gifted to my aunt when she married into our family. She asked me to video call my mother and began showing us different pieces. She displayed several gold rings even a tiny one gifted by my father when I was a year old. I fell in love with one of them which I never saw before. I showed it to my aunt and also my mother who was on the call, saying, "This looks like a sunflower—it’s so beautiful! Look, it fits me perfectly." My mother replied, smiling through the phone, "I had this made when I was pregnant with you. I wanted to welcome my first child with a gift, and I had an intuition that you were going to be a girl. I got another similar one for my future daughter-in-law after your brother was born." I was stunned, to be honest.
My grandma then showed us other ornaments explaining how she had them made for her daughter and daughters-in-laws, as she has two sons. There were also some old silver coins gifted to my mother and uncles by their maternal grandmother. All this new information made me realize many things and changed my view of this tradition of gifting all these jewelry, even when finances are strained.
I realized that these pieces are far more than just gold and silver, far more than merely expensive metals. They are symbols, rich with meaning and woven into the lives of those who wear them. Each piece carries stories, memories, and the silent understanding that passes between generations of women. When a mother or grandmother gifts a piece of jewelry, it is not simply to adorn; it’s a gesture filled with deep affection, care, and the desire to pass on something precious—a piece of herself, of her journey, and of the traditions she values.
These jewels represent acceptance, as if saying, "You are one of us, cherished and loved." They are tokens of trust and a promise that, come what may, this bond is enduring. They are more than ornaments; they’re heirlooms imbued with the essence of shared experiences, milestones, and the enduring strength of womanhood.
With every ring, anklet, or earring passed down, there is an understanding: these aren’t just meant to beautify but to celebrate the grace, resilience, and spirit of being a woman. They remind us that beauty is not only in outward appearance but in the heritage, memories, and love carried forward from one generation to the next.
