FFfAW Challenge-Week of October 31, 2017

Hosted by Priceless Joy at


By Neel Anil Panicker

She isn’t much; just four raised oblong stone slabs; the edges, pointed and jutting out into the skies.

Half hidden behind the majestic branches of a huge peepal tree in a forested outgrowth in the village periphery, what she lacks in finesse and substance she more than makes up on the reverential sweepstakes.

A child beset by jaundice, another downed by yellow fever, a woman wishing for her family’s welfare, another asking for deliverance from the daily grind of life __they all come to her __men, women, children__ the born, the just born, the to be born; the old and the young; the also living and the near dying__,every single one of them makes a beeline to Mahakali __to pay obeisance, to pray, to smear vermillion on her pitch black ever shining visage, to shower her with flowers and rice and lentils and whatever it is that they could procure from their roofless homes and hearths.

She disappoints none; least of all her ‘keeper’ who partakes of the goodies once darkness descends.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FFfAW #mahakali #goddess #faith #flash #fiction #shortstory #172words



Hosted by the wondrously charming Rochelle at


PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Ann Hall

By Neel Anil Panicker

The entire mantelpiece was chock-a-block with vases in myriad shapes, sizes and colours.
One in particular caught his attention.
Inspector Sharma’s fingers skirted past the bud, cylinder and cube shaped ones to finally rest on the wide base piece that squeezed upwards to a pastel green narrow neck, the latter tapering just enough for flowers with the thinnest of stems to fit in.
The cop’s eyes flickered for a nano second; his trained police mind jogged down memory lane; visions of a bunch of huge corolla dripping creamy magnolias scurried past his brain.
He was staring at the murder weapon.

(c)neelanilpanicker2017 #FridayFictioneers #flashfiction #fiction #shorstory #100words #crime #murder #inspectorsharma


FRIDAY FICTIONEERS hostedby the ever reliant Rochellewisoff



By Neel Anil Panicker

‘Cash, jewellery, appliances, cars…nothing’s missing. Looks like it’s personal.’

“Very personal”.

The two looked at the seven bodies strewn like mashed potatoes all over the tiled floor; their heads decapitated, hands tied to backs with nylon tape, every single body space sporting horrific burn marks.

‘Maybe, they were looking for information; turned mad when they didn’t find it, and decided to kill them all.’

“Could be, ” said Inspector Sharma as he moved towards the balcony.

“Bring her to the police station,” he said looking into the bejewelled eyes of the mynah.

“Once she talks, all secrets will tumble out.”

(c)neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #flashfiction #FridayFictioneers #100words


Sunday Photo Fiction – September 24th 2017

Hosted by SPF at



2012 09 September 24th 2017

By Neel Anil Panicker

The short collars don’t get dirty and yellowed anymore.

Gone is the irritatingly hideous touch of slow burning sweaty droplets trickling down starched white shirts, the pungent smell staying with you long after an angry sun has closed shop for the day.

Missing too are the sight of mouth watering mangoes and blood red water melons; the young and not so young no longer await their turn to lick into delectable ice creams.

But then all that’s something nobody minds so terribly as what awaits is simply wondrous.

As the clichéd lines go, ‘It’s in the air’.

You can feel it in the slight early morning chill as you walk by neighborhoods swathed in a pastel green; the smiles are back in peoples’ faces; there is a soporific lightness in the air all around you that goads one to tuck away under warm sheets, stealing an extra six winks without the accompaniment of soul searing guilt.

All around there is a refreshing openness__be it in the skies above or the earth below.

It’s official: summer’s over, autumn’s here.

If so, can spring be far behind.

The air will soon be filled with romance.

Pity, all I have are but memories.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #SPF #flashfiction #autumn #200words


#FridayFotoFiction Sep 8-13 Prompt

Hosted by the wonderful Tina at


fiction Writing Friday Foto Fiction

By Neel Anil Panicker

He raised his hands to cover his face but the shutterbugs outsmarted him, capturing his shaggy, crestfallen visage, their high resolution lenses picking out every single fibre and tissue, pore and crease, capturing for posterity his misery and fall from grace.

He felt like being fed to the vultures, a piece of meat served on a platter for the pleasurable  consumption of voyeuristic masses.

The very same masses who even barely a day ago bowed their heads in deference and paid obeisance to him at his palatial ashram while he showered them with his benevolence from atop his majestic golden throne, surrounded, fanned and fawned by a never ending bevy of bewitching beauties. ‘Sadhvis’, he liked to call them in public.

The truth lay bare when one of them spilled the beans on his ‘nocturnal’ activities.

The wheels of fortune had turned fully for Baba Furqan Bengali whose new address read ‘Prisoner No. 537, Tihar Jail’.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #fridayfotofiction #shortstory


FFfAW Challenge-Week of September 5, 2017

Hosted by Priceless Joy at




By Neel Anil Panicker

Inspector Sharma looked one last time at the raised fingers.

The next moment he had left the hospital room and was making his way towards the elevator.

“It’s a murder. A well planned cold blooded murder”.

As the lift doors clanked shut, the ever smiling Constable Pandey bared his betel stained teeth.

“Sir, The doctor, relatives…All say it’s a natural death__massive coronary heart failure”.

Inspector Sharma looked across at the bloated frame in front of him, wondering not for the umpteenth time how the Police Department could be so naïve as to recruit such a bumbling buffoon.

“Look Pandey. What’re the facts. The dead man was 83, a bachelor, multimillionaire and with no legal heirs. Was being looked after by a 30-something virago whose got a crime record longer than the Nile.

They had almost hit the ground floor.

“…and he was paralytic, neck down; couldn’t move a limb.”

The lift doors sprang open.

“…which means someone raised those fingers”

‘Why would someone do that, Sir?

A hot blast of air greeted the duo as they hit the mid-afternoon Kolkata streets.

“That’s what I have to figure out, Pandey”.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FFfAW #fiction #shortstory


FRIDAY FICTIONEERS hosted by the doyenne of charming historical fiction Rochelle at

8 September 2017


PHOTO PROMPT © Danny Bowman

By Neel Anil Panicker

Ever since Arushi died, it seems he’s lost it.

Barren lands, the ominous skies above, the whistling of the westerly winds, the scary feel of giant lizards creeping through tattered jeans, the slow burning of his battered half baked soul ___he wants to experience all this, and then some more.

“Could you leave a forwarding address, someway we can keep in touch”, concerned, they gently asked.

He doesn’t honour them with a reply.

Guess, they understand. His sister recently gone, swallowed by cancer, and add to that Liza’s betrayal.

His cup of woes overflows, they aver.

Unmindful, he moves ahead, though unsure if can ever move on.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FF #99words #gettinglost