neelwrites/whatalogic!/fiction/flashfiction/shortstory/15/06/2018

FLAWED MINDSET 

By Neel Anil Panicker

So you tell me that you did this because you were greatly hurt at being falsely accused  of inappropriate conduct by your colleagues and that to clear your fair name you set this all up in order to investigate and thereafter  catch the person who had brought you so much ignominy, that you did this as you wanted physical evidence of wrongdoing that would help you be exonerated of all accusations of wrongful conduct once you placed it before your bosses, right, Mr Ankur Tomar?

Yes…yes…yes Sir…I felt greatly humiliated, especially and more so when they spoke ill of me on the staff in-house blog and on other social media.

And what exactly did they say about you?

That I am a dirty person and that I don’t bathe and smell bad all the time and the most hurtful of all that I don’t flush the toilet after use.

So, my friend if that’s your defence for placing a camera and recording your colleagues,  several of whom being  females, in various stages of undress, then I am afraid that’s a very weak one, one that will not cut much ice with a judge who will slap you with charges of voyeurism and send you behind bars.
I..I…I am sorry; I now realize that only real cops are allowed to play cops in order to  catch the real culprits; all others have to face the fate of either living with the humiliations leaped upon them, or wait for the truth to come out.

 

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neelwrites/hobson’schoice/ThreeLineTales/flashfiction/shortstory/13/06/2018

A DILLEMA

three line tales, week 124: two colourful doors that lead to ...

By Neel Anil Panicker

There are two doors in front of me; one red and the blue; and both beckon me, equally__staring invitingly at me, attempting all  within  their powers, cajoling, coaxing, attracting, luring, even threatening me, using all manner of bait to get me to somehow bite the bullet.

I for one, though thoroughly bowled over by such passionate unrelenting prefer to bide my time, in the interim mulling things over while time races past the past, and rushes through the present, in a bid to be on time for its date with the future.

I wish I had more choices, that there were more doors to chose from__my misguided mind harbouring the impression that multiplicity of choices would lead to me taking better well informed decisions, but I guess that’s  a fallacy for since when have more choices translated to better outcomes?

#neelanilpanicker #fiction #flash #instashorts #ThreeLineTales #hobson’schoice #140words

Three Line Tales, Week 124

Hosted by

Three Line Tales, Week 124

neelwrites/minds’amaze/realisticfiction/flash/fridayfictioneers/100words/13/06/2018

MIND’S A MAZE (GENRE: Realistic Riction)

meep-by-the-window

PHOTO PROMPT © Jean L. Hays

By Neel Anil Panicker

Her mind’s aching with sepia toned memories; memories that get dimmer by the hour.

‘Cancer, of any type, is slow poison. It kills you; slowly, breath by breath.’

This is someone’s memoir she read.  They batter her already battered mindscape.

 

This month’s been hectic. She’s traveled through childhood, relived her school days, her joyous life as the “most naughtiest, loveliest, bestest 10 year old girl in the history of Scottish High School.”

This from her Fifth Grade teacher; somewhat bombastic but heartfelt utterings.

Outside, the hospital van wails. She extricates herself from the past. It’s Chemo Day, again.

Her future beckons.

Friday Fictioneers is hosted by the wonderful Rochelle  at

15 June 2018

 

neelwrites/fishingintroubledwaters/flash/fiction/shortstory/flashfictionforaspiringwriters/12/06/2018

FISHING IN TROUBLED WATERS


By Neel Anil Panicker
The splash of waters could be heard even from a distance.

Sitting on the bench, ringed by a circular parapet, Imtiaz  and Asma watched their kids___eight year old Latif and five year old Azma_dipping their fingers in the froth filled waters and squealing  in delight every time they spotted or  felt a small fish slip through their nimble  fingers.

Meanwhile, their nimble bodies swayed rhythmically as the small boat on which they were bobbed languidly in the placid afternoon waters.

“I am so glad you could take time out. The kids look so happy.”

Imtiaz turned around and nodded his head in assertion.
His hesitant eyes caught the twinkle in her eyes.
Something in them made him to turn his gaze away.
She mustn’t know; at least not until he had exhausted all his resources; expended every conceivable excuse that could pass muster with his bosses.

‘No. Imtiaz, there is no option but for you to go. And it is in your best interests that you take up this new position’.

The words of his employer sent a chill down his spine.
He knew what they meant.
His boss had extended a warning, a a veiled threat. The orders that followed left no room for doubt or ambiguity.
‘Proceed immediately for Kashmir. Also, remember, this is  covert operation that’s been conducted without the formal nod  of the Defence Ministry. As such  complete secrecy has to be maintained.
Which means you will tell your wife  and children that you are leaving for Dubai on a six month official trip. Also remember, you come back only when we hear the news confirming the death of Abu Bakr.’

The words ‘Abu Bakr’ mouthed my his boss sent a chill down his spine.
Who hadn’t heard of Abu ‘Mutton Bakr?
One of the most wanted global terrorists___the man responsible for the Kolkata Metro bomb blasts as well as the brazen attack on an Indian Army camp in Pathankot.

His bosses had given him his toughest and most dangerous assignment so far and he was expected  to deliver as he had been delivering all this years.
Only difference: this time if he failed  he wouldn’t be alive to tell the tale; his enemies, the country’s enemies would ensure that.
“What are you dreaming about, my dear handsome husband. Isn’t it time we went ordered lunch”?

Caught off guard, Imtiaz sheepishly  looked at her wife and replied, albeit haltingly, “Sure, as you say, love. Let me go ferry the kids back”.

#neelanilpanicker #fiction #flash flashfictionfortheaspiringwriters

FFfAW Challenge – 169th

Hosted by Priceless Joy at 

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/06/11/fffaw-challenge-169th/

neelwrites/lovebirds/sundayfiction/story/11/06/2018

LOVE BIRDS

DSCF1060

By Neel Anil Panicker

“It’s PRIYA. P…R…I…Y…A.  So stop calling me ‘Flamingo’.”

‘Because you are one.’

Priya looked at Raj, whose hands kept flitting in and out of the side pocket of her little blue dress, reaching places whose existence the nineteen year old wasn’t even aware of.

“Oh! is that so? Tell me, how did you arrive at that deduction”?

The two were at the National Zoo and leaning against the parapet that overlooked an oasis of blue waters surrounded by thick bushy outgrowth all around it.

Wednesday, at this hour of the afternoon, a quarter past three, was, even by Delhi’s standards, pretty languid.

The animals and birds, big and small, and their watchers, the men who were tasked with the upkeep of what was arguably the nation’s best kept sanctuary were taking their much needed siesta, away from public glare and scrutiny, safely tucked in their nests, homes, hearths or wherever it was that they felt comfy and relaxed.

Turning around, Raj, his hands hidden from public gaze, replied, “That’s ‘bcoz you’re tall, shapely, have a slender figure, have a very glowing lush apple like face, and ….”

‘And what, dear Raj? Priya vollied, her voice suddenly putting on a flirtatious honey dipped tone.

Raj dug his eyes deep into hers before retorting, “And also b’coz you have long, very long endless legs”.

Priya blushed before retorting, : Don’t forget; I have a long, sharp beak too”.

#neelanilpanicker #fiction #shortstory #sundayphotfiction #flamingo

Sunday Photo Fiction – June 10, 2018

https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2018/06/09/sunday-photo-fiction-june-10-2018/

neelwrites/shortstory/fiction/sentencestarter/nothing10/06/2018

DEFINITELY SOMETHING

By Neel Anil Panicker
“Nothing, nothing is the matter”.
Rajesh opened his mouth to say something but then quickly checked himself.
She’s definitely hiding something, for sure, he said to himself.
He flipped boringly through the pages of ‘The President is Missing’, the book he, an absolute non-enthusiast of political thrillers, was trying to read.
” Read it. For once, you will fall in love with realistic fiction”, were Shelly’s words as she coaxed him into ordering the latest bestseller from  a premier online site.
He decided to try another route. Turning around to his wife who herself was immersed in a book, ( another racy political or crime thriller___her favourite genres__), he said, his voice a practised casuality,
“Darling, what’s the name of that intern who was linked with Clinton? I keep forgetting her name off and on.”
The second s ticked by. He waited; waited and watched.
There was no response. Zilch. Cipher. It was as if she wasn’t even there in the bedroom.
As if she, her mind, were somewhere else.
‘So there was definitely something; something that was bothering her, playing on her mind so badly as to render her absolutely oblivious to her surroundings, to others around her, to even her husband, her hubby of over a decade.”

Rajesh watched her face, still immobile, inscrutable as a rock, and wondered whether it had anything to do with Harsh.
The thought made his blood boil and sent paroxysms of pain shoot up through his veins.
In no time and despite the air conditioning, he began to perspire.
As tiny sweat droplets began to trickle down his temple, he lifted himself from the bed and stumbled into  the balcony abutting their fourteen floor two-bed room apartment, the one he had bought and shifted to only six months ago.
#neelanilpanicker #shortstory #fiction #flash #nothing #301words

Short Story Sunday 216: Nothing

 

 

neelwrites/mythologyofchange/shortstory/fiction/09/06/2018

Mythology of Change
By Neel Anil Panicker
“I hate all that is happening in this office, half screamed Akshay.”

Rahul lifted his eyes from the smartphone and looked across the room at his colleague.
The two were at the Faculty Room and had just wrapped their first two hour session of the day. Another six more were to follow, almost on the trot.

“My dear friend, I know you’re upset and some of it is understandable”.

Rahul was alluding to some major  upheavals in all departments especially in the Faculty Department including  workload  and more  stringent quality changes
that had taken place ever since the ownership of ‘Coaching Time’ changed hands.
The new owners, two under 30 brash upstarts hell bent on splurging on their ancestral wealth but unwilling to extend that largesse to the staff, the mainstay of any organisation, especially so in  the intellect driven Education Industry, were hell bent on squeezing every penny’s worth out of the employees. In fact several of the very old hands, some including Akshay had completed almost two decades in the organisation.

Rahul, who had joined barely a year ago understood his friend’s plight and felt sorry for him.

“But look  at it from this way,” he proffered.

“The mythology of change is security. I think what is upsetting you is the insecurity that comes with all these changes. And that is why you, as do others who feel the same, are so resistant. ”

“So true, Rahul. I mean they have upset the apple cart; completely changed what we are used to. In fact so drastic are these changes that all I see around me is nothing but pomp and show. There is this absolutely avoidable ostentatious display of wealth on non-core areas. I tell you all that glitter is not gold.”

“If that be the case, then my friend you should go forth and embrace the glitter. So what if it is purple glitter, burgundy glitter, mauve glitter,  burgundy or glitter of any other colour.”
#neelanilpanicker #fiction #flash #shortstory #329words