By Neel Anil Panicker

When a big tree falls, the ground beneath it shakes.

He wasn’t just a big tree, he was the biggest tree the family had ever known.

All grew under his protective shade, come hail, rain, or sunshine.

He was our lodestar, our go to man, friend, philosopher, guide__ all rolled into one, there for us in all seasons, for all reasons__imparting solidity and strength where needed, vision and guidance for those who sought him out, encircling in his massive arms the infirm and the fragile.

Now, we merely exist, woefully ill-equipped to battle the curve balls that life often throws.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FridayFictioneers #fiction #flash #100words



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



Hosted by ever trustworthy ROCHELLEWISOFF  at



By Neel Anil Panicker

Wine glass in hand, Sandra stood at the deck, scanning the horizon.
Below, the moon played truant, drawing curvaceous lines on the limpid waters.
Her pear shaped eyes gleamed at the memory of the weekend tryst.

The serendipitous ‘bumping’, the ‘coy’ smiles, the adrenaline high hot chases, the reluctant ‘surrender’, the furtive romancing, the midnight rendezvous, the frothy waves, the joyous splash, and the sudden crash__she had enjoyed every moment of it.

The siren blast broke her reverie.

On the wharf awaited a young man holding a bouquet.

Sandra got up with a sigh.
Time to meet Victim number 19.

©neelanilpaniker2017 #Friday Fictioneers #fiction #100words



Hosted by the super talented Rochelle at

With its battered tin roof it looks like an old warehouse that has been abandoned. The windows aren’t broken and the concrete walls look rough. What story does this old shell of a building with its brick chimney tell you? Can you tell the rest of us in 100 words? 


PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

By Neel Anil Panicker

The agent couldn’t believe his ears.

‘Thirty thousand, full cash, upfront, fifty year lease’

Who the hell pays this kind of money, any money for that matter, for a hell hole such as this.

He opened his mouth to say something but the young man had already trooped inside.

Moss covered peeled off walls, half darkened oblong rooms, bombed out windows and doors__ that’s what ordinary mortals saw.

Instead, Raj Ahuja envisioned rows and rows of automatic sewing machines around which busied dozens of cheery workers carving out intricate soft leather toys.

He saw the birth of his industrial empire.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FF #flashfiction #100words


Written for FRIDAY FICTIONEERS hosted by the most charming Rochelle at

22 September 2017


PHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

By Neel Anil Panicker

I wish I could throw you out; make you disappear; simply watch you just fade away.

I wish I didn’t have to see you the very first thing in the morning.

Wish I could smash to pulp that insouciance that you wear all day long.

I wish you all bad things, bad tidings, bad this, bad that…

I wish you’re not such a pain in the…

But, I know I can never wish any such thing.

Can never let you of my sight.

Can never ever afford to lose you, again.

You’re not just his shoes.

For me, you’re him.

©neelanilpanciker2017 #FRIDAYFICTIONEERS #flashfiction #100words



hosted by the ever gracious Rochelle at

15 September 2017




PHOTO PROMPT © Kelvin M. Knight

By Neel Anil Panicker

Aurelian’s chest swelled with pride under the toga, the silk damasks, the translucent gauzes, the gold clothing in Tyrian purple dyes.

The Roman Emperor’s sartorial flair in full glare.

Restitutor Orbis (Restorer of the World)…Dominus et Deus (Master and God).

He had the hoi poloi eating out of his hands.

The ‘bread and circuses’ that he was throwing at them were proving their weight in gold; ravenously lapped up the plebeians still unschooled about the machinations of the elite.

No need to shed blood. Or, fire a bullet.

Throw them crumbs and they ‘re yours.

He couldn’t thank  Apollonius enough.

©neelanilpanicjer2017 #FF #historical fiction #100words  


Aurelian (LatinLucius Domitius Aurelianus Augustus;[1][2] 9 September 214 or 215 – September or October 275) was Roman Emperor from 270 to 275. Born in humble circumstavlnces, he rose through the military ranks to become emperor. During his reign, he defeated the Alamanni after a devastating war. He also defeated the GothsVandalsJuthungiSarmatians, and Carpi. Aurelian restored the Empire’s eastern provinces after his conquest of the Palmyrene Empire in 273. The following year he conquered the Gallic Empire in the west, reuniting the Empire in its entirety. He was also responsible for the construction of the Aurelian Walls in Rome, and the abandonment of the province of Dacia.

His successes were instrumental in ending the Roman Empire’s Crisis of the Third Century, earning him the title Restitutor Orbis or ‘Restorer of the World’. Although Domitian was the first emperor who had demanded to be officially hailed as dominus et deus (master and god), these titles never occurred in written form on official documents until the reign of Aurelian.


Bread and circuses” (or bread and games; from Latinpanem et circenses) is metonymic for a superficial means of appeasement. In the case of politics, the phrase is used to describe the generation of public approval, not through exemplary or excellent public service or public policy, but through diversion; distraction; or the mere satisfaction of the immediate, shallow requirements of a populace,[1] as an offered “palliative“. Its originator, Juvenal, used the phrase to decry the selfishness of common people and their neglect of wider concerns.[2][3][4] The phrase also implies the erosion or ignorance of civic duty amongst the concerns of the commoner.


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