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(c)neelanilpanciker2018 #poem #tanka #love #romance

(c)neelanilpanciker2018 #poem #tanka #love #romance

Hosted by Colleen at

Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka Tuesday

#Poetry Challenge No. 67 – Play & Guess


(c)neelanilpanciker2018 #poem #tanka #love #romance



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By Neel Anil Panicker

Misty windows, half stolen glances

Dreamy eyes, fluttering shyness

Cupid’s arrows, hearts pierced

Hidden chambers unlocked

Emotions peep through

feelings take wings

love blossoms

hearts sing



FFfAW Challenge-Week of December 19, 2017

Hosted by Priceless Joy


By Neel Anil Panicker

“It looks like our love will die a brutal end,” a scared Preeti cried out.

‘Have faith my dear. I’m sure not all are beasts’ replied Aslam.

His eyes burned as he looked across the half lit room at his ladylove.

The two were holed up in an inner corner room of Swaroop Nagar Police Station.

Outside, they could hear the crowd turning restless, the sloganeering getting shriller and more strident by the minute.

‘Kill the traitor”, “Down with Love Jihadists”, “Protect our women, save Hinduism”.

Leading the blood thirsty group of sloganeers were Preeti’s parents including her two brothers, one elder and the other, a mere twelve years old.

They’re all braying for Aslam’s blood.

Inspector Sharma entered the room.

“They’re mad. Hail from the Dark Ages. Will kill both of you. Take the backdoor. There’s a car waiting outside. Go, get a life. Escape these mad people and their antediluvian mind sets.”

As the two disappeared, Inspector Sharma muttered a prayer.

He was thankful he wasn’t an old dinosaur.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #shortstory #FFfAW #175words


Written as part of a weekly challenge

Sunday Photo Fiction May 28th 2017


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A DEVIL IS BORN      (#2 of LOVERS)  

201 05 May 28th 2017

By Neel Anil Panicker

His birth heralded a death. His mother’s. The night he was born there was no electricity in his village, a remote impoverished village tucked in the back of beyond of western Haryana, the nearest medical centre some 100 miles away.

For three perilous hours Nature was at its wildest. What first began as a massive thunderstorm interspersed with staccato bursts of lightning quickly gave way to thunderous cloudbursts. Soon the skies turned pitch dark and thereafter followed four horrendous hours of torrential rains.

That night the elements collided and colluded to wreck havoc bringing in no time the village to its heels__uprooting trees, dismantling electricity poles, clogging the drains and arteries all around its decrepit lanes and bylanes sending frightened villagers scurrying back like rats into their mud roofed tenements__ waiting, wailing and praying for the nightmare to end.

Another kind of nightmare had just begun in the village headman’s house, a modest two storied brick structure, the only one of its kind in the entire village one largely peopled by Thakurs, a powerful upper caste denomination in rural India.

Three hours after the woman of the house had gone into labour, the midwife, an old septuagenarian women of myopic sight, craned her neck out of the inner room, holding in her hands a curled up white bundle.

“It’s a boy. The mother is dead.”

As the wailing died down, a young man, a red turban tied around his head, turned his attention away the hookah, blowing a thick ring of smoke into the low roofed walls, and gingerly held the new born in his arms.

A pair of bright shining eyes framed in an angelic face stared back at him, the barely formed lips curling into a half smile.

‘We shall call him Ram, the human God.’

It wouldn’t be long before his God, Ram aka Ramandeep Singh Thakur would turn into Ravan, the evil incarnate, the Devil himself.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #SPF #fiction #lovers-part 2

Please find the link below to the first episode of this story ‘LOVERS’.