Sagar
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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.
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I thank all who supported me to develop this story.
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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)
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This has been published as Love on the Edge by Proyash Sarkar, BlueRose Publishers, available on BlueRose, Flipcart, Oxford.
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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.
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A novel. Genre: romance, psychology, gay, bi-sexuality Setup: India
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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
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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.
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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,
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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
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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
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TWELVE My solitary existence had seen many ups and downs, but somehow survived through all the odds. Having nobody beside me to lodge a complaint or discuss things with even when life assumed a monstrous form, I had to fight it all alone which somewhere gave me, despite my suicidal tendencies, confidence in my ability to survive in this ruthless world. That was the only thing which helped me climb the slippery slope of life. But the events of my immediate past had left me devastated both menta
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ELEVEN Perhaps, the existence of evil and suffering plays its positive role in our lives by setting us meditate upon ourselves in our solitude. The times when we suffer are the only times when life appears denuded of the lofty ideas constructed around it by the mind obsessed with so many preconceived notions, which veil the bare truths about ourselves. On many such occasions we encounter a truth that proves to be a nightmare for us as it shatters many of our revered values and long-embraced no
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NINE Philosophers often say that we suffer due to our ignorance and desires, but what they forget is that both of these factors are produced and controlled by the situation in which they are produced. In that sense the context in which we acquire ignorance and desires plays a pivotal role in our suffering. We do hardly have any control over such situations. So what they say is true in the main, but where they go wrong is placing the entire onus on the individual who suffers. Your suffering is
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TEN Till date I don’t understand the tryst that the goddess of sleep has with Ishan; I still wonder what sort of relationship they may share so that whenever he leaves me with a conceited heart she also goes with him leaving me in an insurmountable melancholy and loneliness. I spend my nights rolling on the bed, and looking at the ceiling fan with all sorts of strange ideas and rust out thoughts about him gathering from every corner of my mind. I can’t live without him. The very possibility th
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EIGHT Ishan came up with his story, but I couldn’t think even in the wildest of my dreams that it would turn out to be a nightmare for me. The more I was trying to make things straight for me the more they were getting tangled. Perhaps it was destiny, or perhaps it was because of my ardent effort to control my passions for Ishan; the more you pull the open ends of a disheveled skein of wool in your desperation to make it tidy the more you get it tangled. I was patiently waiting for him to come
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SEVEN A bundle of papers kept on my desk caught my attention. Though it appeared to contain documents unfamiliar to me, yet I could recognize the appearance of the pack. I had seen it somewhere earlier. Yes…something must have been missing in my thought. Gradually, as I fixed my gaze at it with curiosity, my conviction in my earlier encounter with it rose higher diminishing my confidence in my memory. I tried for some time to get some clue purely from my memory as to its identity before physic
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SIX My liaison with Avijit was an impromptu response to his emotional outburst that night; however, when I reflect on the entire incident only one thing appears in my mind as the crux of the entire affair that had I not been ruined by my uncontrollable attachment towards Ishan, Avijit would not be in my life. Perhaps, I wanted a refuge in the calming custody of the latter. When in spite of trying my level best to get Ishan out of my mind I failed miserably, I maintained a safe distance from hi
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FIVE A speedy recovery gave me the scope to resume my writing. The daily hustle and bustle on the narrow lane by my window went on as usual, often unnoticed by me, as I remained immersed in my writing. Everything seemed to be in their proper place except I had no news of Avijit for many days. I had last seen him in the morning in which Diya left my place being wounded up by my unusual behavior. Nor did I have any idea of his whereabouts. He disappeared from the scene like thin vapor. I tried a
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FOUR The orchard out of my doorsteps bloomed with new yellow marigold. Bees gathered from all corners to collect nectar for their larva. Right from the dawn a cuckoo was shouting from some unidentifiable branches of the newly blossomed mango tree. I can remember that I read in some nursery rhymes the poet’s overwhelming praise of cuckoo’s voice; can’t remember who was the poet, still if I could get hold of him I would ask him to spend an entire day at my place and even after that he would not
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THREE Mountains of smoky clouds were constantly moving upward from the foothill on this chilly evening in the western breeze dropping the temperature further. After a few indolent appearances the sun retired early. Hardly any stars were visible on the firmament. The entire atmosphere was full of moisture and seemingly was about to burst in tears. As the clouds disappeared for a few moments the yonder hills raised their head against the dark canvas like a known face I had been acquainted with b
