neelwrites/horrorunfolds/SundayPhotoFiction/Sixsentencestories/fiction/novella/200words/3/08/2018

THE HORROR UNFOLDS 

SPF August 12 2018 Fandango 1

By Neel Anil Panicker

As the soap slipped out of his hands he lunged forward in a vain attempt to grasp it but in the process his wobbly legs, shorn of all energy gave way and with one resounding sound he fell on the rough stony floors.

His skull cracked open, soon blood and bile formed all over and smeared his naked body.

With one monstrously loud agony filled shriek that reverberated all over the wide, high ceilinged walls of the century old Malabar Catholic Church, Father Benjamin Mathews woke up in his heavily bedecked velvety bed.

It took a while for him to reorient himself; for his heartbeats to get back to an even keel, for his mind to get back to normalcy, for him to achieve some measure of sanity, and when he did so the sixty-eight year old bishop simply stared into the intricately carved gold and silver embroidered wall mirror that hung from the wall opposite him.

It was then that he saw the face of horror__raw, primal fear stared back at him.

His senses and body in a limbo, he lay there, absolutely unmoving; then, after a while, he slumped down, his body curled up in a foetal position.

#neelanilpanicker #crime #sex #church #keralachurchscandal #SundayPhotoFictioneer #SixSentenceStories #200words

Sunday Photo Fiction – August 12, 2018

 

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2018/08/11/sunday-photo-fiction-august-12-2018/

(part 2 of A CHURCH SEX SCANDAL) https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2018/08/12/neelwrites-achurchsexscandal-threethingschallenge-realisticfiction-storystarter-partoneofachurchsexscandal-432words-12-08-2018/

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/

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neelwrites/jinnah/editorial/kneelingdown/essay/07/05/2018

JINNAH WAHAAN; JEENA YAHAAN

Aligarh Muslim University, AMU

Image result for jinnah

By Neel Anil Panicker

Are we going Pakistan’s way? Are we becoming a mirror reflection of what Pakistan has become in recent years?

By focusing our eyes, ears and all of our sensory perceptions on our next door neighbour are we in real danger of morphing into the monster that Pakistan has turned into?

Well, if you were to ask me I am going to stick my neck out and say an emphatic ‘Yes’.

Chew on this___Ram, Padmavat, cow, beef, Taj…we seem to be never falling short of issues to fight over. Almost every other day we are out on the streets, armour and shield, guns blazing, ready to attack and maraud and exterminate vile enemies of the nation__be they real or imaginary.

The goal posts keep changing, the game remains the same, the spectators ever on the rise.

The latest in this year’s edition of the IPL- acronym for the great Indian Political League__is the absolutely farcical and totally unavoidable brouhaha created over Mohammed Ali Jinnah’s portrait.

I am of the firm opinion that all those students and their political Godfathers who are crying themselves hoarse and fighting a pitched battle in a bid to force authorities to remove Jinnah’s portrait from the precincts of Aligarh Muslim University, are anti-nationals.

Yes, you heard that__these lumpen hooliganists, this fringe group of pseudo nationalists who indulge in violence and fight over non-issues, who go about brow beating and attacking all those who oppose them including the police and all right thinking citizens of this great country__they all are anti-nationals for in this 21 ist century post liberalised highly competitive modernist economic world that we live in the only rightful definition of anti-national that we need to subscribe to is one who expends his time and resources in derailing the economic growth of a nation.

For aren’t they not anti-nationals all those who burn effigies, stop traffic and hold up trains, sit in dharnas and kill and loot and plunder in the name of protecting, preserving, protecting, upholding some abstract dinosaur like values so very absolutely anachronistic in today’s jet age?

Shouldn’t the students of Aligarh Muslim University of both  and all political hues be expending their valuable time and energy into the

pursuit of education, a pursuit that would not just shore up their intellectual wealth but also help them bag jobs and ultimately lift this country out of the economic morass that it has fallen into?

It is a question that needs answering; not just by the innocent lambs who are systematically led to slaughter by their political self serving selfish political masters but by all right thinking national loving citizens of this country.

And the answers need to come, fast and quick, for I am afraid, the time is running out.

#neelanilpanicker #editorial #KNEELING DOWN #jinnah #amu #politics #anti-national #portrait

REF: http://www.business-standard.com/article/current-affairs/amu-controversy-violence-in-aligarh-muslim-university-news-over-muhammad-ali-jinnah-s-portrait-hamid-ansari-top-10-developments-118050400807_1.html

neelwrites/politics/poem/tanka/19/03/2018

SHAME ON YOU
Image result for naresh agarwal
By Neel Anil Panicker
For everything I’m game
I’ve absolutely no shame
Nobody’s to blame
For me all are same
What I do has no name
Though I have some fame.
#neelanilpanicker #poem #politics #nareshagarwal #modi #india #politics

 

neelwrites/pest/thegreatindianbanparty/sundayphotofictioneer/20/11/2017

Hosted by  Sunday Fiction  at https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/11/19/sunday-photo-fiction-19-november-2017/

GREAT INDIAN BAN PARTY-

Playing at a theatre near you

17 Anonymous 19 November 2017

By Neel Anil Panicker

A ghoonghtaless brave Rajput princess bedecked in mesmerizing regal wear, prancing around in her own magnificent gold bedecked palace courtyard, dancing her heart out in gay abandon, her swirling lehanga swishing wildly in huge concentric circles while her dainty hennaed hands rise up to the skies above, her beautiful kohl-lined eyes sparkling with divine love, her lips a prayer, ever seeking blessings for the earthlings below.

Deepika-Padukone Ghoomar-song_1

Or, a near desperate woman forced to step out of her home in search of her ‘missing’ husband, overnight losing her moniker Goddess Durga; instead finding herself metamorphosed into a mere object of man’s lascivious predatory instincts.

Still another, bogged down by the vicissitudes of fate, compelled by the dire need to keep body and soul together, sheds her clothes under the harsh glare of arc lights, only to rejoin her starving family of five including a paralytic father and three mother-less younger siblings, their hollowed eyes hooked onto to the bread crumbs that she clutches in her hands, her paltry wages of the day.

Disturbing, uneasy, uncomfortable… is that what these images evoke in us?

Yes, and that’s because it’s we, the male of the human species, who decide the status of women in this world. It’s we who decide whether women are to be revered or reviled.

For us, especially, the men of India, women are a binary.

It’s easy slotting them. They are either good or bad, the compartmentalization arrived at from the periscope of our ever vigilant male eyes.

We decide who is to be worshipped and who is to be crucified; we decide who is to be hailed as a princess and a goddess, and who is to be hauled to be coals and branded a witch, a siren, or a slot. It is we and we alone that decides who is a good woman and who is a bad one.

And woe betide anyone who dares to defy us, challenge us, question our unquestionable hegemony over all such matters.

We vow to throttle all such voices; swear to ban, burn and bust them, crush them to pulp__all ye ‘uncultural voices’.

Such pests must best be put to rest.

Long live the Indian male, long live India, the India of our dreams, the India of our vision, the India of only our vision.

©NEELANILPANCIKER2017 #358WORDS #PADMAVATI #BAN #THEMOVIE #RAJPUTKARNISENA #SATIRE

 

 

Note: I have slightly deviated and written a longre non-fictional piece as i felt this is a story that needed to be told in the present context that is playing out in India. Hope you shall forgive me for this rather off beat, long piece.

neelwites/fiction/shortstory/whatpegmansaw/20/02/2017

Screen Shot 2017-02-15 at 6.47.55 AM.png

WHITE DOT/ BLACK SPOT
By Neel Anil Panicker   ( word count: 162)

Haruki Nakaoka inserted the ATM card, punched in a few keys, and pocketed the crispy yens that ejected out of its mouth.

The twenty-one-year old was out on a double celebration: to mark his law school graduation; also his first date since leaving high school

“What’s this,” asked Indira peering into a small white dot embedded into the top left of a glistening rectangular grey tile floor.
“It”, replied, Haruki, “is the exact spot where ‘David’ was stabbed to death.”

“David who? ”, asked his Indian girlfriend, as her eyes surveyed a black plaque on the wall alongside.

“ This is a commemorative wall in his honour.  ‘David’ Hara Takashi was the first ‘commoner’ Prime Minister of Japan who served from 1918 to November 4, 1921, the evening he was assassinated by an ultra right activist.”

“A Japanese Christian? ”

Takashi Hara posing.jpg

“He was baptized at 17”, replied Haruki before steering her away from the station.

He forgot to mention that David’s killer was his grandfather.

(c)neelanilpanicker2017 # fiction # short story #whatpegmansaw

Hara Takashi (原 敬?, 9 February 1856 – 4 November 1921) was a Japanesepolitician and the 10th Prime Minister of Japan from 29 September 1918 until his assassination on 4 November 1921. He was also called Hara Kei informally. He was the first commoner appointed to the office of prime minister of Japan, giving him the informal title of “commoner prime minister” (平民宰相heimin saishō?). He was also the first Japanese Christian Prime Minister.

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

Written for whatpegmansaw at https://whatpegmansaw.com/2017/02/18/tokyo/

neelwrites/fiction/shortstory#SPF#200wo/02/02/2017

Dear Friends,

I am sorry but like Lain Kelly, I too couldn’t stop myself from writing something that reflects the changed political reality of our times.

Neel.

TRUMPING THE WALL  (200 words)

By Neel Anil Panicker

‘The screws of the world’, Richard muttered under his breath as he turned off the television.

Killings, hatred, bombings, laws, in-laws…the world seemed to have gone mad.

It reminded him of something.

“Chris, have you taken your medicines?,” he called out.

There was no response.

Richard checked his watch. 8 o’clock. Not yet sleep time.

He walked into the room.

There was no one. The bed was littered with toys. A flickering video game suggested recent activity.

A folded yellow paper lay around it.

He picked it up and, read its contents.

‘Dear Dad,

Miss Janet tells us we have a new President. She said he is very bad. He is building a wall, she told the class. Even Bob and Steve said the same. I am very afraid. You promised Mom will come soon but I know you are lying.

This man is evil. He will never allow Mom to stay with us.

I love you a lot but I want to live with Mom. I am leaving for Iraq. I have my boat.

I built it on my own. Learnt that in Arts class.

I will come back soon, to take you also.

Your loving son,

Chris.

(c)neelanilpanicker2017#fiction#shortstory#SPF#200words

 

01-ceayr-29-january-2017

© C.E.Ayr

Sunday Photo Fiction – January 29th 2017

SPF

Click on the image see a larger version.

Written for fiction writing contest Sunday Fictioner hosted by

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/01/29/sunday-photo-fiction-january-29th-2017/