Sagar

Earlier posted in this platform as He Came to Stay (then incomplete, up to chapter 20). Now published as a complete novel. Set up in the Indian (Bengali) context, this is a story of the intricate relations and the psychological upheaval between four people.

I thank all who supported me to develop this story.

Love on the Edge by Proyash Sarkar, BlueRose Publishers, available on BlueRose, Flipcart, Oxford, previously He Came to Stay by Sagar on Gay Authors (at that time up to chapter 20)

This has been published as Love on the Edge by Proyash Sarkar, BlueRose Publishers, available on BlueRose, Flipcart, Oxford.

Love on the Edge This was published in this platform as He Came to Stay. That time the story was incomplete. Now that it is complete and has published in the form of a book, hope it will be received with as much enthusiasm, as its earlier Blog version. Available on Amazon, Flipcart, BlueRose, Google Books. All comments are welcome.

A novel. Genre: romance, psychology, gay, bi-sexuality Setup: India

TWENTY On my return I found Ishan and Prabhat were still there in my drawing room watching a cricket-match on the television. I readily realized that Prabhat was in no mood to leave that night. So, I had to prepare food for them. ‘Did the maid come,’ I asked. They were so engrossed in the TV that they didn’t pay heed to my call. Had I made another call, it would face the same fate. I rather preferred to go to the kitchen and check out for myself if the maid had prepared anything for them. When

Thank you Nephylim, for reading the chapter! Since it is a semi-autobiographical story, it takes time for writing subsequent chapters. I wait to observe the actual course of events. Anyway, how are you doing? I am excited that I am talking to an old friend of mine almost after four long years! You and Cia had been the person who taught me how to use GA when I was new to this site. Jian Sierra also deserves special thanks for editing some chapters of this story, especially brushing up the language for making it more suitable for the Western readers.

NINETEEN To be honest, I enjoyed every bit of what Ishan did that night. Yet a sense of guilt cropped in my mind. I didn’t indulge him, but still, I didn’t prevent him either. I shouldn’t have enjoyed his misadventures. But on a second thought, it occurred to me, if I was made like that, how could I prevent myself enjoying his deeds? That appeared to be destiny. But did I not do injustice to Avijit? Perhaps he knew nothing about what was going on between Ishan and me. He just had a rough ide

The thought of what was going to happen next worried me. I couldn’t tolerate separation with Ishan, yet as the proximity grew between us, it bothered me about the possible outcome. After that day’s incident he again started staying with me. This time he didn’t ask for my permission. Nor did I express any eagerness that he should stay back. During the last few days sometimes he raised the topic, probably to see my reaction. On such occasions I only casually said that he might think about returnin

I didn’t know who was responsible for my plight. Our great thinkers often held men responsible for all the sufferings that they must bear in their lives. Without showing any disregard to them and with all humility, I refused to adhere to their view, which I found to be inflicting upon people a curious sense of guilt and self-negation. Such abstinence and a sense of guilt was the primary motivation behind our awe towards divinity. Our religious preachers harped on them to reach at their goal. The

SIXTEEN Distance more often than not intensifies the bond between persons. Avijit’s occasional disappearance from the scene gave me a space to contemplate in my leisure about the nature of our relationship, which was entangled with a lot of problems. He had every right over me and everything that I possessed. But he never claimed his right. Nor did he ever try to possess me the way any lover would like to possess his fiancé. This tormented me into pieces. I often wondered if he loved me at al

FIFTEEN Night imposed upon me unveiling its outwitting character, and then, treacherously intercepted subsuming me completely under its spell. Diya and I were having a chat after the dinner. I didn’t notice when Ishan retired. Diya made me alert that it got late in the night and that I should go to sleep. I never go to sleep that early; still I felt really sorry for keeping Diya engaged for so long. When I returned to my bedroom Ishan appeared to be fast asleep. I looked at his sleeping face,

FOURTEEN I didn’t feel comfortable discussing the real cause of my plight with Ishan at the presence of Diya. I was not quite secretive about my feelings, though somewhere down the lane I had developed this expectation of not expressing my feelings to someone who really cares for me. If she were really interested, she would discover it for herself, as I seldom put any serious effort to concealing my real feelings. Neither did I like to be too expressive about them. But in Diya’s case, it was d

THIRTEEN Afraid of appearing weak, my affronted and dejected self didn’t want to look at Ishan’s face. When all the neighbors had left and the doctor, after advising him about the medicines to be administered, had set out towards his chamber, he silently walked around the bed and sat beside me on the bed. Picking up the napkin kept beside the pillow, he gently wiped off my tears which had already dried up. Perhaps their marks were still there on my cheek. I tried my level best not to show any