SON RISES; SUN SETS By Neel Anil Panicker                 word count: 137 “The old order changeth giving way to the new” ‘Changeth? What fancy language! Tell me in words I understand”. “That’s the …

Source: neelwrites/fiction/shortstory/150words/FFfAW/17/01/2017



By Neel Anil Panicker                 word count: 137

“The old order changeth giving way to the new”

‘Changeth? What fancy language! Tell me in words I understand”.

“That’s the problem: You just don’t understand, dear father. I said it is time for you to give way”.

“Oh! Is it? And what do I do? Simply sit, pasture, decay, die?”

“Oh! Please. Enough of your emotional nonsense. I am putting it straight: get off or I will throw you out”.

The words knifed through the aging patriarch’s chest. He felt his heart vessels constrict.

He finally saw the writing on the wall. His head bowed in submission.

The son smiled, strode upto the father, sought his blessings, and left.

Later, from his balcony, he watched his son cycle away. It was the very same on which he had first learnt to ride; the tutor__his own father.


FFfAW Challenge-Week of January 17, 2017


98th Challenge

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Week of 01-17 through 01-23-2017

Written in response  to flash fiction challenge hosted by



Landers, California


BLOOD IN THE SKY  ( word count: 150)

By Neel Anil Panicker

Chief Detective Norman Peale skirted the bodies, and stepped out into the cold December night.

His eyes took in the icy barrenness of the Mojave Desert.

‘No tyre marks. No trace of blood. No dwellings for miles on end.’

He turned his attention to his deputy.

‘Sergeant, shoot’

‘Sir, three women and one man, all over fifty. The entry says they came yesterday… were booked for a sound bath”.

‘A what’?

‘Sir,  it is a 60-minute healing session…ideal for relaxation, rejuvenates the dead cells and …’

‘Oh, cut the crap!’

Norman knew the tale.

How some madcap engineer named Vessel had made telepathic contact with Venetians. How those aliens had disclosed him the secret to revive dead human tissues.

His eyes looked upwards at the parabolic dome-shaped structure called the Integratron.

A moment later he barked, ‘Sergeant, let’s go to the airfield. The killer or killers dropped from the skies’.


Written for challenge from




By Neel Anil Panicker

It’s been only an hour since Donald won the elections, but to Vikram it’s as if ‘The Brute’s been ruler much longer. As Vikram steps out of his spartan hostel room and ambles into the canteen, he knows it’s bad days ahead.

A change of culinary guard at the University of Warwickshire and that too when food including its quality or the lack thereof of it, has been a major concern is as worse a prospect as the thought of semester exams being conducted bang in the middle of the busy football season.

Before Vikram has even sat down, a turbulence builds up in his bowels. By the time his order arrives, the discomfiture has spread to other body parts.

He eyes the stuff laid out. Gone were the rice and turkey ensemble topped with salads and Pico de Rado tomato salso.

In its place, and set in a dirty plastic bowl, was a mound of rice half drowned in reddish brown water, and over that swam a few dices of undersized salamis.

He bit into one. He puked on the plate.

‘This is what happens when buffoons get elected to top offices” he muttered, to no one in particular.


Sunday Photo Fiction – January 15th 2017


The idea of Sunday Photo Fiction is to create a story / poem or something using around about 200 words with the photo as a guide. Please try to keep it as close to the 200 words as possible. It doesn’t have to be centre stage in the story, I have seen some where the placement is so subtle, the writer states where it is.

Careful editing is the key to keeping the story within the constrains of the limit. 200 words may seem like a lot, but it disappears quickly. The challenge makes you look at replacing two words with one, and a little jiggery pokery. A few words over is sometimes necessary when there is no way of shrinking it without losing an integral part of the story. Using a program like Microsoft Word or Open Office have a word counter so you can see how many you have used.

Once you have written and posted your story, please add the link to the inlinkz froggy icon below and add it to the collection so we can all have a read.

Any links that are not related to Sunday Photo Fiction
will be deleted so please don’t add them.

The main object is to have fun.

Click on the image see a larger version.

This Sunday Photo Fiction challenge is the initiative of




 By Neel Anil Panicker

The other day I heard our PM Narendra Modi rolling up his sleeves and then after the customary ‘Mitron’ salutation, going forth to ridicule his bête noire and heir apparent to the Congress throne, Rahul Gandhi, even going to the extent of mimicking his speaking style and then ending with the downright demeaning “the kid seems to be learning to speak now”.

Agreed, detractors of Rahul may have a long list of grievances against him including his apparent “non-speaking skills”, his utter lack of political acumen,   his ability to keep putting his foot in his mouth every single time he opens his mouth.

But does that in any way allow one, and especially so, the PM to deride and denigrate and demean the poor soul from every single forum that he graces?

And if you are one of those who doesn’t care a crap about the Congress Party and/or what ails its most prominent poster boy, then all I can say to that is: I am sorry, but I do care a crap.

And that’s  because it is not just about competence or the lack of it; it is not merely about a particular party enjoying brute majority or another tottering in the doldrums, it’s also not just about one being a leader with spell bound oratorical skills or another one who looks as if he suffers from lifelong stage fright.

It is about certain abstracts that help a society remain social if not sociable; attributes that one can’t put a monetary value to such as dignity of the individual and respect for all including and especially towards those who may not match upto our expectations.

I hope Mr Modi and his ilk who day in and day out throw around their awesome weights to pull down ‘outdated’ symbols and institutions and people not to their likings and temperaments realize this.

And I hope this realization dawns sooner on them than later for even if they don’t give a crap, the right thinking, peace loving citizens of this country and elsewhere do give a crap.