FFfAW Challenge-Week of June 27, 2017

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121st Challenge

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers

Week of 06-27 through 07-03-2017

For more such fantastic  stories please click on the blue frog below:


By Neel Anil Panicker

All his life Uncle Prasad had said yes, green signalling just about everything; consequences be dammed.

And so it was that at age 4 he joined his cousins and pulled off the biggest heist of the time: stealing bagfuls of the finest Alphonso mangoes from the sprawling orchard of the village headman.

At 7 he was playing courier boy, passing over love psalms between hormone high Romeos and Cupid struck Juliets; by 9 taking off to the hills nearby for a night out with the Big Boys.

At 13, he came perilously close to being shot dead from an alert guard’s rifle while his ‘friends’ ran helter skelter after a bank hold-up gone horribly wrong.

At 16, he was carrying a gun, because that’s what all his peers were carrying.

But then all that’s in the past.

Today, half a century later, he’s jumped ahead, changed, turned respectable, married, even become proud grandfather  to six.

But then, at times he wants to go back to when he was 6 or 7, join his buddies to steal mangoes, flirt with girls twice his age, and maybe rob a bank or two.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FFfAW #fiction  #195


Sunday Photo Fiction – June 25th 2017

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10 Eric Wicklund 25 June 2017

© Eric Wicklund

By Neel Anil Panicker

For the first time in his two decade long police career, Inspector Akhtar Shameem of Jammu & Kashmir Special Crime Unit felt what it was like to be on the other side of the law.

The tables had turned__the cop had become the criminal, or so it seemed.

Holed up in his current hideout__an abandoned timber factory located some fifteen miles off Srinagar Highway, and barely a few thousand meters from the Pakistan border, the middle-aged cop went over the events of the previous few weeks.

He had been investigating a drug seizure case a month ago when he stumbled upon the involvement of two prominent legislators.

On digging further, he unearthed a multi-billion dollar drug cartel whose tentacles spread across the border was run by Shah Maqsood Gilani, the Chief Minister’s son.

Soon he had had visitors_ machine gun wielding men who riddled his house with bullets, (luckily his wife and two children were at his in-law’s for a family wedding); strange men who made vile threats over the phone and hurled bombs at his police station.

Inspector Shameem checked his watch. 12.35 pm. It was time to make his move.

His contact Haider would be waiting, as promised.

©neelanilpanciker2017  #SPF #200words


Sunday Photo Fiction – June 18th 2017


203 06 June 18th 2017

By Neel Anil Panicker

Vetenarian surgeon Dr Inderjeet Saini bent down on his knees and examined the bird.

His nimble fingers felt its heart under the white backed wings.

It was a wasteful exercise.

The juvenile griffon had been dead for over five hours.

“Renal failure,” he pronounced, adding “A slow and painful death.”

Standing next to him, Dr Rustom Naoroji, the well known ornithologist and his colleague from the Institute of Avian Studies, nodded his head sadly.

“That’s Number 76, and this is only in just one district. One more innocent life sacrificed at the altar of man’s unbridled greed,” he said as two ambled back to their camp located on the outskirts of Khelgaon, a nondescript village in rural Maharashtra famous for its extensive dairy farm activities.

The two bird lovers knew what that meant. In the last two years alone, the number of vultures that had died after consuming the carcasses of cattle had risen to 1258, a staggering rise of 64 per cent.

The dead cattle were administered highly harmful painkillers, something that would make them work longer hours.

However, there was something else that worried Dr Naoroji.

It was what would happen to him once he died.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #SPF #fiction  #198words

P.S. The death of vultures is a matter of grave concern for the Parsi community who follow the practice of leaving their dead in the Tower of Silence to be consumed by vultures.


FFfAW Challenge-Week of June 13, 2017

For other wonderful flash fiction stories click onthe blue frog below:

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This week’s photo prompt is provided by The Magicsticgoldenrose. Thank you for our photo prompt!

By Neel Anil Panicker

I climbed up the hill and suddenly, all of a sudden, encountered this massive beast of a castle, its stony blackish exteriors glistening against the golden rays of the setting sun.

For once language failed to describe what I saw. The closest I had come to anything as huge as this was the two storied ‘White House’ with its fronted lawns and three rectangular windows peeping out of a flower bedecked balcony that stood at the extreme corner of our otherwise spartan neighbourhood and which we as children  used to stop by and gawk at while on our way to the only school in our remote West Bengal village.

I stood there, transfixed and utterly petrified, my benumbed brains trying  to make some sense of this colossal structure that was so reminiscent of those ferocious monsters that attacked me in my torturous dreams, its looming turrets, towers and ramparts leaping out like long nailed poisoned claws ever ready to jump and draw the breath out of my being.

It was then that I saw it; the half opened side gate and spiked on its iron bars, a man’s blood splattered head.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FFfAW #fiction


Sunday Photo Fiction – June 11th 2017


SPF - June 11th 2017

By Neel Anil Panicker

Life for Abdul Sattar was a two player game of chess; his opponent, the whole wide world.

Abdul played his part with great zeal and cunning; winning being his whole sole motive.


Losing, for him, was never an option. The vicissitudes of fate had ensured that.

Splitting points reserved only for weaklings.


A child of a Lesser God, life’s cards were all stacked against him.

Minus the love and support of non-existent parents, he started out as every Tom, Dick, and Harry’s  favourite lamb, ever ready for slaughter.

Bullied, abused, beaten, threatened…he had seen, felt and experienced it all before one could spell bingo.

At an age when children were meant to be in school and mastering the three Rs, our man had his first brush with the law. His crime: stabbing to death his violator.

By the time he stepped foot into the tenuous teens, he had learnt enough about first moves, split second openings, deft maneuverings, tactical retreats, left flank slices and brutal frontal attacks to end up as the lord of the rings, the undisputed master of the game.


It was then that he met the queen.

It was checkmate time.

Overnight he turned from king to pawn.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #spf #fiction #shortstory #200words



09 C E Ayr 04 June 2017

© C E Ayr

By Neel Anil Panicker  

Ooohs and aaahs ricocheted off the high ceilinged walls of the packed movie hall as the final montage ended with the fading dreamy montage of the young lovers caught in a tight embrace.

A cool evening breeze blowing in from the Arabian Sea greeted the happy faces that

stepped out of the theatre.

“Will you marry me?”

The words escaped Azhar’s lips even before he realized it.

Stumped by this very public act of indiscretion, Zeenat looked at him quizzically as if he had dropped in from the skies.

‘What? Just what was that, Azzu?’

Their arms entwined, the two crossed the street just as the signal turned green.

“Zeenie baby, you know that I have been wanting to say this for years.”

‘Two years, hundred and two days, eleven hours and thirty-three seconds.’

Looking into her eyes, he intoned, “So, baby, will you marry me?”

Pointing towards the Lovers Statue a few feet away from where they stood, she replied ‘First you need to kiss me, like him, in style.’

Without any further prodding, he swung her in his arms and planted a kiss on her lips.

Oohs and aahs escaped the lips of the appreciative crowd around them.
©neelanilpanicker2017 #SPF #fiction #200words



Image result for when magellan died

By Neel Anil Panicker

Magellan was at his wit’s end. Until now everything had gone to plan.

Within hours of his sighting the mountains of Simar he had landed at Limasawa, It was easy ‘convincing’ Rajah Siagu, the local ruler. Shortly the entire region had converted to Christianity.

Well, almost.

One chieftain, Datu Lapu-Lapu, of the island of Mactan refused to follow his bidding.

The next morning an infuriated Magallen sailed for Mactan in a ship full of forty-nine armored men with swords, axes, shields, crossbows, and .45 colt guns.

Rocky outcroppings, and corals forced them to anchor away from the shores, rendering their cannons ineffective.

Watching them from ashore were the mag-sabils, the fierce looking stocky 1500 strong  warrior clan.

Forced to the backfoot, the wily Magellan offered a truce: Pay obeisance to the King of Spain and convert to Christianity, or else face defeat.

The locals chose to fight.

Almost immediately  amidst cries of La ilaha il-la’l-lahu, the band of screaming juramentados, showered the Spaniards with a non-stop fussilade of kris, barongs and sharp edged poison dipped arrows.

One of them hit Magellan in the leg and he soon bled to his death, thus forcing the invaders to beat a hasty retreat.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #whatpegmansaw #historicalfiction


In search of fame and fortune, Portuguese explorer Ferdinand Magellan (c. 1480-1521) set out from Spain in 1519 with a fleet of five ships to discover a western sea route to the Spice Islands. En route he discovered what is now known as the Strait of Magellan and became the first European to cross the Pacific Ocean. The voyage was long and dangerous, and only one ship returned home three years later. Although it was laden with valuable spices from the East, only 18 of the fleet’s original crew of 270 returned with the ship. Magellan himself was killed in battle on the voyage, but his ambitious expedition proved that the globe could be circled by sea and that the world was much larger than had previously been imagined.

The Battle of Mactan (Cebuano: Gubat sa Mactan; Tagalog: Labanan sa Mactan; Spanish: Batalla de Mactán) was fought in the Philippines on 27 April 1521, prior to Spanish colonization. The warriors of Lapu-Lapu, a native chieftain of Mactan Island, overpowered and defeated a Spanish force fighting for Rajah Humabon of Cebu, under the command of Ferdinand Magellan, who was killed in the battle.

Written for whatpegmansaw


Today Pegman walks along the docks of Cebu City, Philippines

Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.

To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button: