Sonya’s Morning (2019)
“Morning light filtered in through the billowy curtains, but there was no one to witness its beauty. The door of the wrought-iron fence banged softly against its side with the ocean wind. Inside, empty unmade beds, open cupboard drawers, and missing baggage could be found.“
BY RHEA TONY
IMAGE BY ANNA BONDARENKO
Saturday December 31st 2016
It was after months of reworking their schedules that they had finally decided on an overnight trip to celebrate New Year’s Eve together. It was assumed that it would be a night of beach parties and uninterrupted drinking. The flights were not cheap, even for a one-hour flight, considering it was the weekend and travel was very much “in-season.” But that didn’t deter them—the one night away would be worth it. The economy tickets were chalked up to a “much-deserved break” that was bound to cost them in many other ways.
The only couple from their group, Mehul and Rachita, had been denied permission from their respective families for obvious reasons; their parents had yet to come to terms with the three-year-long relationship. And Carlton would fly in the next day after attending a work get-together. This left the trio—Diya, Rishaan and Kiara—flying ahead as planned. Expenses would be shared for the lodging in a quaint seaside house in Panjim, Goa.
One asked, “What time should we meet up?” The second replied, “Around 6:30? We should have enough time to beat rush hour traffic and check-in as well. What say you?” The last one agreed, and it was settled. They met, passed through the usual rigmarole of the airport and were finally seated on the plane.
In the middle of the flight, Kiara woke up from her power nap to go to the washroom. When she returned, she was too lazy to push her way back into the middle seat but Rishaan was awake and readily offering to switch. A sleep-starved Kiara closed her eyes to fall back to sleep, this time while holding Rishaan's right hand.
His other hand, though, nervously moved to touch Diya's, who was seated to his left, next to the window. She jumped a little from the contact. He had been quite persistent in pushing through her personal space recently, and it had not gone unnoticed. She pulled her hand away, trying to pretend that it was just an accident. But a defiant and bold Rishaan took hold of her wrist again, this time firmly, leaving faint impressions of his fingers. Diya tugged, but he didn’t even flinch. She let him hold her hand for a bit, just to give him a sense of satisfaction of winning her over, but when his grip loosened, she managed to sneak her arm away to safety. Thankfully, she saw that Kiara was still sleeping soundly and hadn’t noticed. Turning her head back to the window, Diya sighed in relief. It would have been weird to explain and the thought of Kiara seeing the forceful exchange left a bitter aftertaste in her mind for the rest of the flight.
When the plane landed at Dabolim Airport, Rishaan felt unsettled; his excitement on the flight had slowly been replaced with a fear that he found very difficult to decipher. It had given him a different kind of thrill to hold Diya’s wrist, watching the imprints of his fingers on her easily-marked skin.
However, Diya had been flustered with Rishaan’s actions; first, by trading seats with Kiara to sit beside her and then forcefully holding her hand—that had been the boldest Rishaan had been until now. She had wanted this trip to be free of awkwardness, and now he had gone ahead and made things weird for her.
On the opposite end, oblivious to anything, Kiara was buzzing with endorphins. Holding Rishaan’s arm and leaning on his shoulder had been an added incentive. It had not been easy to pretend to be in a deeper sleep than she was just to snuggle closer to him without causing suspicion.
After hailing a taxi, they arrived at the scenic cottage near the beach after a long but smooth forty-five minute ride. Everything had fallen back into a jaunty, comfortable space once the drive began; Diya and Kiara were singing popular hits while Rishaan laughed at their silliness. The women were friends of several years. Their bond was strong and came off as though they were two pieces of a puzzle that fit just right.
Rishaan turned his head to look at the passing sea. The cool and sandy breeze on his face and the smell of seawater were soothing. The car ride gave him a feeling of déjà vu, but it didn’t take him long to recall the exact moment.
It was around a year ago, after a house party that soon evolved into a club-hopping adventure. He was on designated driving duty and had ended up with the important task of dropping the girls, including a very drunk Rachita, safely back home; the other boys had ended up sloshed and too drowsy to bother moving from their seats.
Now, he wasn’t heartless enough to leave the tipsy Diya, nearly-asleep Kiara, or a very drunk Rachita back with the others, but he did have an ulterior motive. Admittedly, it was dangerous enough to be out this late; he didn’t want to risk additional events.
After dumping Kiara and Rachita in the back seat, Diya had sat in the front next to him. It was not that unusual, especially if he was the one driving them around; Kiara preferred the quieter back, letting Diya fiddle with the music controls and chatter away in the passenger seat. The duo in the back was out in a blink, with the windows rolled down to let the breeze whizz past them on the nearly empty link roads. Diya had been mellow, the alcohol making the usual boldness slip away. She moved to put on a soft pop playlist and hummed along idly, looking out the window. Rishaan stole glances at her small figure in her long-sleeved sweater top and skinny jeans. At some point, she had kicked off her heels and drawn her legs onto the seat in comfort. It was times like this where he felt she was weak, softer, and more vulnerable to his words and actions.
The music droned in the background. “Hey, you okay there?” He moved to tap her arm to get her attention towards him. They were nearing Rachita’s apartment and that meant Diya’s would be just around the block. He wanted to make an impression, or to at least leave her with something that would cause her to think about him.
Diya had nodded. “Yep, just tired. I forget how tiring life can get. The constant battle between what you want and what is right…” She glanced in the rear-view mirror before she turned to smile at him, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes like usual.
Was she talking about him? He had never told her outright about his feelings for her, but subtlety was not his strong suit, either. Of course, he had dropped hints: the perfectly timed drives home after work, the “coincidental” meetups in public places, and the group dates that would end up magically being just the two of them. It had taken him years of strategizing to create a soft spot in her heart for him, before he considered making any obvious moves.
“Something bothering you? You know, I’m always here to talk… or well, listen, too.” He placed his hand on hers, which was resting on her thigh and squeezed it once before letting go with a practiced smile. He knew her too well. She needed someone to listen to her rants and her views, and he could do that, or at least pretend to; playing pretend was one of his best skills after all.
"You know what, Rish? You walk around with this attitude and confidence. Like you know everything and everyone, right?" Diya asked, and turned towards the window, not expecting an answer.
She was right, but it felt nice to be noticed. Rishaan nodded. “I suppose so.”
She hummed to indicate that she heard his answer, but it took a while for her to respond. “But you don’t.” She said, “You think you do, but you don’t. And you never will—not if you keep believing that.”
He had fallen in love with her that night. Or so he believed. In reality, it was more of a personal goal, a target to achieve—to conquer the impossible. She had challenged him then, and he had accepted it. He had been working hard to reap the results.
The abrupt braking of the cab brought him back from the past.
“Wow, the place is beautiful! How did Carlton even manage to book it?” Diya was out and skipping towards the gates at full speed. While the house was set between two similar-looking bungalows, theirs stood out more because of the stark white swing on the front porch, reflecting the faint moonlight.
The three explored the cozy but spacious house. The girls admitted there was no need to bunk together when there were plenty of spare rooms; they were only staying for a night anyways, a night that would very well be spent on drinking and card games. They had already picked up food and booze on the way there to avoid having to go out later in the night. Carlton would drop by sometime in the morning and take them around before they returned home on the flight tomorrow.
With almost no unpacking, they dove into the greasy food and washed it down with the bottles of beer and wine. Diya had conveniently found three glasses and a corkscrew in the kitchen cabinets. Refilling their glasses and carrying the bottle around, they moved to the massive C-shaped couch in the living room. Rishaan chose to sit on one side with his beer bottle and the TV remote, while Diya had laid down on the opposite side of the couch with a stomach grumbling from over-eating.
Kiara had swiftly cleaned up the leftovers. After the stunt on the plane, her confidence had plummeted, so she had maintained a distance from Rishaan and busied herself with other tasks. Seeing space next to him on the couch made her stomach clench with anticipation, but that didn’t mean she was bold enough to sit next to him right now. Maybe with enough alcohol in her system? She walked to the middle of the long couch, plopped down, and stretched out her legs onto the circular glass table, sighing.
The three of them made conversations about work and new events, traded anecdotes from their past, and reminisced over their many years together. Then, the countdown on the TV caught their attention.
The time was nearing.
“Last three minutes of 2016!” Diya squealed, moving to sit up and glance at Rishaan, then Kiara, and back to him.
Rishaan turned to look at the TV and back to Diya. She was grinning and tapping on her smartphone—probably on social media, looking for the best GIF to celebrate the new year. The thought made him smile. He took a sip from his now-warm beer bottle as his mind went rambling, planning out what he was going to say. He had struggled to act as a friend after he realized his feelings for her a year ago. But he was sure about one thing—Diya was meant to be his.
After his dad had left the house eight years ago, Rishaan had grown up too soon, taking care of his emotionally weak and grieving mother and confused younger brother. Hailing from a conservative Hindu family, his father’s abrupt disappearance had changed everything in his life. The neighbours had food for gossip for months until Rishaan had had enough and convinced his mother to move to another part of the city, away from the pitiful eyes and cruel whispers.
He had learned how to win the hearts of others from a young age, and in a new place, this gift gave him the perfect opportunity to build a new world—a world shaped and controlled by him. It made him feel powerful, but it also made him deflect his emotions. It was a waste of energy and time. He had seen his mother weep over a man long gone and his brother face bullies over poor self-esteem. Rishaan had chosen to fake it all until the end; it was easier to pretend than accept the harsh reality of what it was to be an emotionally unstable boy from a broken family.
So, he worked relentlessly to achieve what he wanted at school and in his career. The steady stream of praise and impressive comments made him feel better, helped to soothe the deep wounds of a lacking childhood. Very few things affected his composure. With his precision and control, he could come off as a perfectionist to the optimists and a dangerous sociopath to the pessimists. He had built a deep passion and whatever or whoever fell in his sight worthy of acquiring had to be under his power, at his bidding.
Now, his target was Diya. The pretty and bold girl who was so carefree and kind. She was strong yet weak, wild but a force to be reckoned with when provoked—this encouraged his need to tame her. Tonight, he would surely win her over.
“Two more minutes to go…” Kiara mumbled, eyes flitting to Diya and then landing on Rishaan before falling to her hands in her lap.
A year younger than the other two, Kiara was the epitome of kindness and naïveté. Slim and petite, with a shy but dimpled smile, she was known as the bookworm of the group. Always fascinated by romantic stories with their “happily-ever-after’s,” she believed in true love right from the start. She thought it was the ideal form of perfection, falling in love with your other half.
Her own happily-ever-after had always been with one guy—Rishaan.
With liberal Catholic parenting that allowed her to think about falling in love with anyone, regardless of caste or religion, she fell for Rishaan. Her family approved wholeheartedly of her choice. Ever the perfect man, he had never missed an opportunity to impress her parents; be it an impromptu visit or holiday celebration, he was always witty and caring. The expensive gifts and compliments only added to his image in their eyes.
But to Kiara, he was more than his money or job title. She knew he was flawed and could lose his temper at times when things didn’t go his way; Kiara had witnessed this first-hand some months ago when a major business deal of his had gone awry. They had been at her birthday party and he had been on edge the entire night. Watching him down drinks and stare at his phone had irked her usual levels of patience. When Mehul had tried to talk to him, he had shoved him off angrily. The incident had cut the party short much to everyone’s dismay, but Kiara wasn’t too upset.
She had never seen him lose his cool or act weak, but seeing him sniffle and barely holding back his tears that night moved her. He had stayed back to help clean up even after she insisted that he go home like everyone else. She let him stay, knowing fully well he wanted to talk to someone and feeling honoured that he was choosing her at one of his weakest moments. They had ended up on the couch, sobered and solemn, talking about random things until they fell asleep with his head on her shoulder.
It had been a defining moment in the relationship—at least it was for her. She had spoken to her parents about her feelings and they had only fueled the fire. The last straw was to let him know of her feelings. This trip tonight was the perfect opportunity to drop the friend act and confess.
“Final minute guys!” Diya squealed in drunken joy. Tonight was going to be memorable; a night she would never forget in her life.
Her sexual preferences inclined in the “wrong” direction, according to her pious Hindu parents. When she came out to them, they had created a ruckus initially, but had mellowed out in the past months after realizing they had no other way forward other than to accept who she was. Diya had stood unafraid of the consequences or misgivings from others over the years. It had taken immense courage to confront her friends and colleagues about their insulting and snarky comments, but at the end of the day, she felt stronger in her beliefs. She had never found anyone worthy to love until now, but she had always known what she wanted. And now she knew who.
Being different is never easy, and finding someone who accepts you for your flaws and encourages your uniqueness is even more rare. Luckily enough, Diya knew who she wanted to fall in love with, or rather, had already fallen for them, hard. It had to be Kiara. She was her other half, her friend, her companion, and her soul mate.
They made the perfect team, and everyone could see it. They had been friends longer than anyone else in the group. They were the perfect cliché of “opposites attract;” if Diya was considered to be the more outspoken one and the prankster, Kiara was there to keep her in check from taking the joke too far. They balanced each other out in most ways, and at the end of the day, all Diya wanted was someone to meet in conversation without having to put up a filter or hold back her real personality.
Tonight, she thought, she would come clean of her secret and everything would pan out well.
The final ten seconds began. It was excruciating for all three of them.
Ten… Rishaan took another sip of his drink, letting it slide down his throat.
At nine, Kiara inhaled deeply and clenched her fists. Diya’s heart thumped loudly, matching the beat of the countdown at eight.
Seven… Kiara exhaled and unclenched her balled-up fists. With six, Rishaan sat up straighter; Diya closed her eyes with a sigh, breathing out audibly.
Five… Four... They all turned towards the windows at the sound of a single firework, lighting up the sky with sparks of red and gold.
“Let’s close our eyes and open them at the same time, okay? On one.” Diya said; Rishaan shrugged, and Kiara was already shutting her eyes. In the last three seconds, someone inhaled.
Three... Two... One…
******
Morning light filtered in through the billowy curtains, but there was no one to witness its beauty. The door of the wrought-iron fence banged softly against its side with the ocean wind. Inside, empty unmade beds, open cupboard drawers, and missing baggage could be found. The return had been scheduled for later that evening after a day of sightseeing and celebration. They had made these plans while keeping in mind that none of them were early risers. However, the scene laid out that morning, spoke differently. The plans had changed.
The fresh year had now started, and the next few weeks went by quickly, but the past was still alive, gnawing painfully: a reminder of what had transpired that night. Only three people knew and each was as unwilling as the next to reveal what had happened.
******
I love you.
With these words, a year had passed at midnight and a new one began.
The TV screen flashed different colours matching the fireworks in the background. The living room, however, was thick with tension and filled with unspoken words.
Rishaan was the first one to get off the couch, leaving his now-empty beer bottle on the glass table in a ring of condensation. At the last strike of the clock, he had looked up at Diya with the confidence that she would be looking back at him. But she wasn’t: she still had her eyes shut, fingers entangled together. Even with the noise of the fireworks going off out on the beach, he had confidently stated his feelings for her. And he was sure they had been loud enough to reach her… right? Was she defying him? Rejecting him?
Kiara was next to leave, wiping tear tracks and mumbling a goodnight to no one as she stumbled to her room. The world had stopped for a few moments after she had mustered the courage to confess. When the countdown hit one, her heart and mind had buzzed with life. She turned to Rishaan to say the three most important words that would make her fantasy come true. It had ended in a whisper, barely audible to anyone but her…
Only to find that he wasn’t even considering her worthy to stand beside him. Instead, she watched as he had said the same words to her own best friend. Kiara watched him walk away to his room, eyes blazing with anger and rejection, leaving the girls alone. It was like a new side of his personality had been unlocked in her eyes. Had he always been this aggressive? Had she purposely chosen to ignore the constant aura of rage and pride around him in all these years? She hadn’t even realized when the tears had begun to flow freely, or when her mouth had opened to take in more air in hopes of staying calm and maintaining her composure. The betrayal stung, and her mind was reeling from the hurt. She swallowed down the words she couldn’t say.
Left alone in the living room, Diya sat there, sobered. It had been her idea to close their eyes and reopen them at the same time on the last second of the clock. She knew it was a fateful moment: the moment when your heart would make you turn to the person you had feelings for in a blink.
But she had cheated. Diya had opened her eyes early to see Kiara automatically turn her pretty face away from her and across the room to Rishaan; her heart had sunk. It had changed everything. The slight tilt of Kiara’s head had acted like a glaring stoplight for Diya; the words sat heavily on her tongue, frozen. It was impossible to utter a single one of these words; she had resorted to being invisible, shutting her eyes and holding her breath. She had seen the single tear roll down from one of Kiara’s doe eyes as she mouthed her confession. And she had felt Rishaan’s burning gaze, more so than heard his confident confession. It had all been too much for her. All her fears had swarmed in at the same time. Loneliness, betrayal, hurt, and above all, rejection piled on as she watched two of her close friends walk away from her in the name of love.
******
All of them had done exactly what they felt was right, had followed their hearts and spoken fearlessly. Taking a chance in matters of the heart can either be risky or fulfilling. Whispers of the heart are loud enough to the ones who choose to hear it; for others, it is merely noise. And none of them had chosen to listen—the key to any relationship. All of them had chosen to speak, but none had cared enough to listen.
Things were changed now. Rishaan had shut off his heart to everyone, his superficial face on constant display. Kiara had taken up that publishing job offer two towns away by the end of January. And Diya had immersed herself into gardening and volunteering with animal shelters.
Beginnings and endings are always easy to accept. What is ever-evolving is the middle: that murky and malleable space in between the start and end that can alter all the other elements existing around it in both good and not-so-good ways.
That’s what happened that fateful night.
Rishaan, Kiara and Diya didn’t wish for a new beginning—instead, only to change their ends. They longed for the perfect end of their own fantasy, ever mindful of the dynamic middle. Fate is cruel and hands punishment to those who run away from it.
Rishaan had shut off his emotions, revealing his true nature after those years of pretense. Kiara had learnt how dreaming was different from the reality of people, even if you believed in their good sides. Diya lost her gutsy self and became aloof, not revealing her true feelings; to her they didn’t matter anymore.
The three had begun journeying on this road, assuming it was parallel. But their fates had entangled long ago and none of them had noticed, not until it was too late to go back.
Being too focused on their own feelings while overlooking others’ sentiments and actions had left them hurt and scarred.
Three voices had spoken that night. Or, rather one had spoken, one had whispered, and one had chosen to stay silent. In sync.
A new year began while the old died. It ended and it began. But it was the middle that was yet to come.
Midnight on Sunday, January 1st, 2017, was never spoken of ever again.
Rhea Tony is a graduate of Humber’s Professional Writing & Communications program. As a writer, she lets first crushes, lingering feelings, and love fuel her stories and life. She dedicates the majority of her time to pop music, and plans to adopt a fox. Her motto remains, “This too, shall pass.”
Image: Anna Bondarenko, Sonya’s Morning, oil on paper, 2019.
Edited for publication by Jamie Tenn, as part of the Creative Book Publishing Program.
The HLR Spotlight is a collaboration between the Faculty of Media & Creative Arts and the Faculty of Liberal Arts & Sciences and Innovative Learning at Humber College in Toronto, Ontario. This project is funded by the Applied Research & Innovation.