neelwrites/dramornightmare/part28ofADANGEROUSLOVE/novella/fiction/02/12/2017

Three Line Tales, Week 96

Hosted by SONYA at  https://only100words.xyz/2017/11/30/three-line-tales-week-96/

DREAM OR NIGHTMARE?

three line tales week 96: an Iceland pony in the snow

By Neel Anil Panicker

Liza woke up in a daze, her mind unable to shake off the bizarre visions of a snowy white pony left out in the frosty high hills, its eyes frightened to death and weeping copious tears.

It was D-Day, the day when Ali would be in court, the day when all that she had worked towards must come to fruition, the day that would change her destiny __ hers and Ali’s .

Getting out of the bed, she walked towards the bathroom wondering whether the half formed dream was some sort of a subtle indicator,  an apocalyptic vision of how things would pan out in the hours to follow? Hunter, prey, or bait? What was it? And who was whom?

©neelanilpanicker2017 #PART 28 of A DANGEROUS LOVE #FICTION #NOVELLA #120 WORDS

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neelwrites/livenbythesea,diebythesea/sundayphotofictioneer/flashfiction/shortstory/27/11/2017

Sunday Photo Fiction – November 26th 2017

Hosted by https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/11/26/sunday-photo-fiction-november-26th-2017/

LIVE BY THE SEA, DIE BY THE SEA 

2018 11 November 26th 2017

By Neel Anil Panicker

Fighting through the ever darkening rays of the setting sun, Vardharajan watched intently at the swirling ocean waters as a massive tidal wave of memories soon deluged him.

It was some three score years ago. He had first set foot in Chennai. It was these very same waters that had brought him, a bare boned slip of a boy, barely five, holed up in the ship’s bottom deck, in a small six by six hole in the wall cheek a bowl with fiery red eyes rodents.

They had thrown him into the sea, giving him up for dead.

Three days later, his near still frame was washed ashore only to be discovered by some fishermen.

They had carried him over, nursed him back to health, and thereafter accepted him as a gift from Thanniyamma, the Sea Goddess, the protector and guardian of the se/ven seas.

With the passage of time, he had become one of them, learning and doing everything a fisherman does___ rising up much before dawn, then cleaning, scrubbing, oiling the boats in which he would later joining others into the sea casting wide nets, battling massive winds and storms, and returning back safe though bruised and battered, with the day’s booty__ a catch of sparkling fish that later he would help in selling off at the wholesale fish market.

The frames changed. He was a strapping young man and people were bowling to him, paying obeisance, pouring out their concerns, the poor and toiling masses, the very same clan that had rescued him from the seas, saved him from sure death, adopted him as one of their own, even giving him a name were now treating him as their Almighty, their saviour, their dear ‘son’ who was now Vardha Anna __feared by the lawmakers and scourge of the lawbreakers, a law unto himself, the undisputed mafia Don of Chennai City.

The shrill sound of police sirens closing him on him broke his thoughts. He needn’t have looked back. They were closing in. He knew it was over.

The curtains were coming down. Pitch darkness had descended all over. He barely made out the long golden arms of Thanniyamma beckoning him from the ocean waters.

She was smiling. He moved towards her, knowing she embrace him in her arms and put him to eternal sleep.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #sundayphotofictioneer #sea

neelwrites/liza’stragedy/partseventeenofadangerouslove/06/09/2017

ALI ALL SET TO MEET LIZA

By Neel Anil Panicker

‘52.’

“What?”

‘That’s your number. When it’s called, you step forward and board that vehicle over there.’

Ali looked at the direction of the assistant warden’s pointed finger.

Around 20 meters away stood a blue police van, its windows heavily barred, the engine running.

Ali winked at Lakhi  who smiled back slyly.

***

LIZA’S BEDROOM

SUMER MANZIL

Time: Evening, around eight

Liza stared into the roof and for the umpteenth time over the past few days, thought about her life and the various shapes it had taken so far and the various shapes it was bound to take in the days to come.

And with all such thoughts came thoughts about her mother.

Nothing was new after her mother’s death. Yes, her death, she mouthed those words silently, the whispers dying within the four walls of her room.

Her mother was no more. It was the sad reality of her life, something which she had lived with all these years but she also had willed herself to believe that is was a natural death. That’s what everyone around had told her, and she had very naively believed it.

What else could an eight year girl could do but believe what her ears heard, believe the words spoken by her father, her aunt, her relatives, even the servants.

Believed when they said that her dear mother, the most beautiful Saira Bano, had died of natural causes, of a massive heart attack.

Believed all this until she turned 15.

Lying on her bed, her mind flashbacked to the past, to one tortuous moment which changed the entire trajectory of her life.

It was an evening, a regular Sunday evening, an hour after dark, and she was in her room, readying herself to go to bed.

It was then that a flurry of hurried whispers made her sit upright.

The voices, its intensity, rising and falling, were coming from the adjacent room.

Stealthily, she tiptoed to the corner edges and cocked her ears to the wall.

It was her Bua, her father’s elder sister, mother’s. She was saying something, her decibel levels rising and falling amidst deafening silences.

“How many more will you condemn to death, Affu?”

Affu. Little Liza listened, holding her breath, her eyes widening at the mention of the word Affu.

Nobody, both in and outside of the family except her Bua addressed her father Afzal Bhai as Affu.

“Thought you would change, become a new person, after Ammijaan’s death.”

Ammijaan was her father’s mother, her grandmother.

What was she talking about? What change was she referring to?

Her curiosity aroused, Liza listened further.

“Fear at least Allah, dear Affu. Though the world will buy your theory that your Saira died of natural causes, you and I know that is was a murder, that you killed her, that you poisoned her to death, that you…”

‘Enough. Keep your mouth shut, or you will meet the same fate.’

Liza couldn’t believe her ears. What was until now just a rumour, something that floated around like a whisper and died within the massive walls of Sumer Manzil had just been proven true.

That the story about her mother was false.

She herself had thought about it at times, wondering to herself as to how a young healthy person with no known medical conditions could suddenly die of a massive heart attack at the age of 30.

Instantly, the whispers had died and the footsteps receded.

Liza slided back to her bed and thought through the night.

So, it was clear: her dear mother was murdered. Killed by her own father, the mafia don of Old  Delhi.

A fusillade of questions raced through her mind: when, why, how, and most importantly why would a man murder his own wife, the one who was a mother to his only child, the one who everyone knew as most gently, loving, obedient, and strikingly beautiful?

Her mind in turmoil, she desperately wanted answers to these questions.

After staying awake the entire night, the first thing she did the following morning was race upto her Bua’s room only to find it locked.

She inquired the servants, all four of them, but none had any definite answer where she had gone, or when she would be back. The next couple of days were the most harrowing moments of her life as she waited in vain for her Bua’s return.

At the end of the week a dark forbidding thought crossed her mind: had her father, the formidable man that he was silenced his only sister, the sole person who knew the truth about her mother and who he feared could have spilled the beans on him?

The thought sent a chill down her spine.

In the days to come as she battled a mélange of conflicting emotions, slowly a new realization dawned on Liza; a new emotion birthed in her heart, and took hold of her, gripped her in a iron clasp; the emotion of hate; a deep, pathological hatred for the man who was partly responsible for bringing her into this world, but who, also, quite tragically, was also responsible for robbing her of her most precious possession__ her dear mother, her Ammi Jaan, the love of her life and the light of her heart.

It was then and there, at the very impressionable age of 15 that Liza vowed that she revenge her mother’s death, destroy her father, wipe him off the face of the earth.

***

As Liza wiped off the tears from her beautiful face, the seeds of revenge that had been sowed eight year back were beginning to sprout.

She got up from bed, pulled on a veil, and walked out of Sumer Manzil, her steps, steady and firm,   heading towards the narrow byzantine lanes of Old Delhi.

(TO BE  CONTINUED)

DEAR READERS/WRITER FRIENDS INTERESTED IN READING THE EARLIER PARTS KINDLY CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW

For PART ONE

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/27/neelwritesffphoningaroundfictionromance100words27072017/

For PART TWO:

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/28/neelwrites3linetalesphoningaround-part2fiction28072017/

PART THREE: https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/neelwritessundayphotofiction03ofdangerouslove30072017/

PART

FOUR https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritespart/

PART FIVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritessixsentencestoriesepisodesixofdangerouslovefiction/

PART SIX

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/03/neelwriteswatcherfictionthursdayphotoprompt03082017/

PART SEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/05/neelwritesgaffarmian-alifeoutsideprisonwallsthreelinetalesfiction188words/

PART EIGHT https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/08/neelwritescatsoutofthebagfffpppart8ofdangerouslovefiction08082017/

PART NINE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/09/neelwritesthediscoveryfffawpart9dangerouslovefiction09082017/comment-page-1/#comment-3979

PART TEN  https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/12/neelwritesalonelyvigilparttenofadangerouslovefiction35812082017/

PART ELEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/15/neelwritesthedisclosurespfpartelevenofdangerouslove15082017/

 

PART TWELVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/16/neeelwritesthedonsnestparttwelveofdangerouslovefictionnovella16082017/

PART THIRTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/21/neelwritesbordersixsentencestoriespartthirteenofadangerouslovefiction195words21082017/

PART FOURTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/24/neelwritesthehitpartfourteenofadangerouslove24082017/

PART FIFTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/25/neelwriteswearinganewshadeadangerouslifepartfifteenofdangerouslovefiction25082017/

PART SIXTEEN

neelwrites/wearinganewshade/adangerouslife/partfifteenofdangerouslove/fiction/25/08/2017

WEARING SOME NEW SHADES

By Neel Anil Panicker

Ali stared into the message that came alive on his cellphone.

“Plan 2 kill u. Tmrw court”. Escape, ILU.”

For an instant he feared his heart had stopped beating as his head turned dizzy and a cold dampness broke through his body. It was followed by a wave of spasmodic convulsions that saw his arms and legs contort and twist itself in frightening angles around his entire body.

It took him a while to regain his senses and thereafter the full import of Liza’s message hit him sending his mind careening into the dungeons of despair.

So, it is was true. The Don is after his blood. Wants to kill him. What did she say? Where? Tomorrow…in the court. Escape, ILU were her last words…

As the world around him slept, Ali sat up bolt upright and mulled over the developments.

Tomorrow was his court appearance. He would be taken to court around noon along with other undertrials. They will be in an armored police van.

Somewhere around the court premises Afzal Bhai’s sharpshooters  would be waiting, ready to spray him with bullets.

Ali needed to escape; escape the madness that was Afzal Bhai, escape the dreadful machinations of his henchmen who had a fearsome reputation of always carrying out their boss’ orders right down to the T.

Sleep was an anathema as for the next few hours Ali thought hard and long, running over in his mind a multitude of escape plans, and then slowly discarding them all, one by one, for their sheer impracticality.

As dawn threatened to break through and his fate seemed all but sealed Ali stared into the red bricked walls of his prison, his eyes transfixed on the antics of a lizard that slid in and out of the walls without a care in the world.

For a long time he stared at the reptile, and then suddenly, as if seized by a brain wave, he extricated his phone and stabbed a message, “Meet outside chamber. Get some pythons, live ones. Also carry extra veil…ILU”.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #wearingsomenewshades #adangerouslove #partfifteenofadangerouslove

#fiction #341words

 

DEAR READERS/WRITER FRIENDS INTERESTED IN READING THE EARLIER PARTS KINDLY CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW

For PART ONE

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/27/neelwritesffphoningaroundfictionromance100words27072017/

For PART TWO:

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/28/neelwrites3linetalesphoningaround-part2fiction28072017/

PART THREE: https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/neelwritessundayphotofiction03ofdangerouslove30072017/

PART

FOUR https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritespart/

PART FIVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritessixsentencestoriesepisodesixofdangerouslovefiction/

PART SIX

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/03/neelwriteswatcherfictionthursdayphotoprompt03082017/

PART SEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/05/neelwritesgaffarmian-alifeoutsideprisonwallsthreelinetalesfiction188words/

PART EIGHT https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/08/neelwritescatsoutofthebagfffpppart8ofdangerouslovefiction08082017/

PART NINE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/09/neelwritesthediscoveryfffawpart9dangerouslovefiction09082017/comment-page-1/#comment-3979

PART TEN  https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/12/neelwritesalonelyvigilparttenofadangerouslovefiction35812082017/

PART ELEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/15/neelwritesthedisclosurespfpartelevenofdangerouslove15082017/

 

PART TWELVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/16/neeelwritesthedonsnestparttwelveofdangerouslovefictionnovella16082017/

PART THIRTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/21/neelwritesbordersixsentencestoriespartthirteenofadangerouslovefiction195words21082017/

PART FOURTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/24/neelwritesthehitpartfourteenofadangerouslove24082017/

neelwrites/ThreeLineTales/fiction/25/08/2017

Three Line Tales, Week 82

Hosted by Sonya at https://only100words.xyz/2017/08/24/three-line-tales-week-82/

A CHAMELEON’S EXISTENCE 

three line tales week 82: a very long skeleton

By Neel Anil Panicker

Sleep was an anathema as for the next few hours Ali thought hard and long, running over in his mind a multitude of escape plans, and then slowly discarding them all, one by one, for their sheer impracticality.

As dawn threatened to break through and his fate seemed all but sealed Ali stared into the red bricked walls of his prison, his eyes transfixed on the antics of a lizard that slid in and out of the walls without a care in the world.

For a long time he stared at the reptile, and then suddenly, as if seized by a brain wave, he extricated his phone and stabbed a message, “Meet outside chamber. Get some pythons, live ones. Also carry extra veil…ILU”.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #125words  #ThreeLineTales

neelwrites/thehit/partfourteenofadangerouslove/24/08/2017

FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER- 2017: WEEK #33

Hosted by Roger Shipp at https://flashfictionforthepracticalpractitioner.wordpress.com/2017/08/24/flash-fiction-for-the-purposeful-practitioner-2017-week-33/

Click on the Blue Frog to share your story with our community.

THE HIT

bike

By Neel Anil Panicker

“Finish him outside the judge’s chamber”.

The words were a staccato, delivered in a banal tone, as if it came straight off a machine.

Salim found himself sweating under his silk shirt.

A dark, foreboding sense of violence loomed large in the camphor filled low ceilinged room whose massive windows were hid by huge dark curtains whose ends fell rather ominously onto to the granite laden floors.

Years of being the boss’ understudy had taught him that there was more to come.

Displaying the patience of a monk and the slyness of a jackal, Salim waited for the

his boss’ instructions.

Astride his decade old Atlas cycle exerciser, the don rode at a furious pace, his muscular arms and legs hurtling forward in tremendous fury.

To Salim, as to any onlooker, the vista resembled a giant black bear rolling off the high mountains, spewing dust and dirt in equal measure, as other lesser endowed animals watched by in stupefied fear and grudging admiration.

An hour later, seated crosslegged in the pearly white diwan, Afzal Bhai spat out betel leaves into the dear-necked bronze spittoon.

Shifting his near ninety kilo weight to one side, the don thundered, his eyes__blood shot, and raging with fire, “Kill Ali, and Liza too, if needed”.

If the order had rattled Salim, he was smart enough not to reveal so in front of his boss.

He merely nodded his head and bowed out of the room.

It was only when he had driven out of Sumer Manzil and was heading towards the syndicate lawyer’s chamber at Karol Bagh did he allow himself a smile, a slow, foxy smile that he kept on for the rest of ride, unmindful of the thickening traffic around him.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FFfPP#thehit #adangerouslove #partfourteenofadangerouslove

 

DEAR READERS/WRITER FRIENDS INTERESTED IN READING THE EARLIER PARTS KINDLY CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW

For PART ONE

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/27/neelwritesffphoningaroundfictionromance100words27072017/

For PART TWO:

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/28/neelwrites3linetalesphoningaround-part2fiction28072017/

PART THREE: https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/neelwritessundayphotofiction03ofdangerouslove30072017/

PART

FOUR https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritespart/

PART FIVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritessixsentencestoriesepisodesixofdangerouslovefiction/

PART SIX

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/03/neelwriteswatcherfictionthursdayphotoprompt03082017/

PART SEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/05/neelwritesgaffarmian-alifeoutsideprisonwallsthreelinetalesfiction188words/

PART EIGHT https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/08/neelwritescatsoutofthebagfffpppart8ofdangerouslovefiction08082017/

PART NINE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/09/neelwritesthediscoveryfffawpart9dangerouslovefiction09082017/comment-page-1/#comment-3979

PART TEN  https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/12/neelwritesalonelyvigilparttenofadangerouslovefiction35812082017/

PART ELEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/15/neelwritesthedisclosurespfpartelevenofdangerouslove15082017/

 

PART TWELVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/16/neeelwritesthedonsnestparttwelveofdangerouslovefictionnovella16082017/

PART THIRTEEN

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/21/neelwritesbordersixsentencestoriespartthirteenofadangerouslovefiction195words21082017/

 

 

neeelwrites/thedon’snest/parttwelveofdangerouslove/fiction/novella/16/08/2017

THE DON’S NEST  ( PART TWELVE- DANGEROUS LOVE)  

By Neel Anil Panicker

Don Afzal Bhai was thankful the room was sound proof. He had ensured that.

That way when hard leather connected with soft skin and the shrieking and the wailing and the crying and the pleading commenced, it stayed and died within its four walls.

And as the hour rolled over into the next and the shrieks and wails gave way to soft whispered oohs and aahs, a whiff of fresh jasmine wafted around the exquisitely decked up curtained room that boasted of soft low lights peeping out of highly ornate wooden lampshades that otherwise would have enjoyed pride of place in a millionaire’s abode.

Placed at the four corners abutting the master bed that spread out invitingly like the spiralling waters of a giant oceanic wave full of froth and fury, the lights served another larger purpose.

Its beams fell directly on the massive master bed where lay the most feared mafia don of Old Delhi, naked like a new born, eyes shut, body and mind long lost to the sensual and sexual charms of the woman booby strapped to his body.

The woman, who matched the don every single measurable inch in nakedness, boldness, and naughtiness, was no ordinary woman. She was the Don’s mistress, his favourite stress buster, the   one who’s job it was to ensure his physical welfare.

Over the past decade or so, she performed her duties with a rare aplomb,

gaining besides Afzal Bhai’s trust and continued, a few prime properties in the heart of Lucknow, the place from where she originally hailed.

‘Ah, the pleasures of life’, Afzal Bhai moaned as expert hands worked their magic on his massive oak of a body, pressing a vein here, pulling and pushing a limb there, sending pulsating throbs of sheer pleasure scurrying through his loins.

‘Will you be staying over tonight, sanam,’ she asked, caressing his moustache strewn lips with a bunch of ripened berries, her hands finding solace deep down his lumbar regions.

Like a supremely satisfied cat having smacked clean all the milk, and now spread-eagled on all her fours, Afzal Bhai smiled satisfactorily as he pondered over the question.

Not a bad idea. There wasn’t much business to conduct early in the morning. The durbar could be postponed by an hour or two.

He was about to say yes when Salim’s words of last night reverberated in his ears.

“Boss, he’s trouble. Big time trouble. Ali’s bail application is due for hearing any day.

You need to do something fast. We don’t have much time on our hands”.

Three hours later, when he pushed aside the iron sliding gates of the third floor corner house appropriately christened Jannat Jahan, he was a changed man. Almost magically, his walk had turned sanguine, his kohl lined eyes had a fierce glow to it and as the noontime sun shone brightly on his jet black Mercedes, he slipped inside it through the half opened door, ensconcing himself comfortably in its plush interiors.

Looking over at Salim, who as his wont, was seated in the front seat, he barked “Ali mustn’t reach the court. Kill the bastard before that, preferably inside Tihar Jail.”

©neelanilpanicker2017#parttwelveofadangerouslove#FFFaW#fiction#527

DEAR READERS/WRITER FRIENDS INTERESTED IN READING THE EARLIER PARTS KINDLY CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW

For PART ONE

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/27/neelwritesffphoningaroundfictionromance100words27072017/

For PART TWO:

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/28/neelwrites3linetalesphoningaround-part2fiction28072017/

PART THREE: https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/07/30/neelwritessundayphotofiction03ofdangerouslove30072017/

PART

FOUR https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritespart/

PART FIVE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/01/neelwritessixsentencestoriesepisodesixofdangerouslovefiction/

PART SIX

https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/03/neelwriteswatcherfictionthursdayphotoprompt03082017/

PART SEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/05/neelwritesgaffarmian-alifeoutsideprisonwallsthreelinetalesfiction188words/

PART EIGHT https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/08/neelwritescatsoutofthebagfffpppart8ofdangerouslovefiction08082017/

PART NINE https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/09/neelwritesthediscoveryfffawpart9dangerouslovefiction09082017/comment-page-1/#comment-3979

PART TEN  https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/12/neelwritesalonelyvigilparttenofadangerouslovefiction35812082017/

PART ELEVEN https://neelwritesblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/15/neelwritesthedisclosurespfpartelevenofdangerouslove15082017/