neelwrites/fireworks/part20ofadangerouslove/threelinetales/120words/16/09/2017

Three Line Tales, Week 85

Welcome to Week 85 of Three Line Tales.

Hosted by the wonderful Sonya at https://only100words.xyz/2017/09/14/three-line-tales-week-85/

 

FIREWORKS  

three line tales week 85: sparkler and sunglasses

photo by Matt Palmer via Unsplash

By Neel Anil Panicker

The sounds thinned all around him as the police van carrying the prisoners wound its way past the byzantine streets, and sped off in the direction of the court. Inside, Ali closed his eyes and braced himself for the happenings of the day, wondering for the umpteenth time what his lady love had planned by way of his escape.

Knowing her he knew it would be something different, something dramatic, something that would be the talk of the town, a deed so daring that it would be on everybody’s lips for days and months.

His eyes lit up like Diwali sparklers; the Festival of Lights was coming to Delhi a couple of months early this year, courtesy his beloved Liza.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #part20ofdangerouslove #120words

DEAR READERS/COLLEAGUES/FELLOW WRITERS/FRIENDS

If you would like to read the earlier parts of this ongoing novella ‘A DANGEROUS LOVE’

kindly click on the links 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
PART SEVENTEEN
PART EIGHTEEN
PART NINETEEN
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neelwrites/part19ofadangerouslove/thursdayphotoprompt/scatter/fiction/novella/860words/15/09/2017

Thursday photo prompt – Scattered #writephoto

#writephoto

Hosted by Sue Vincent at https://scvincent.com/2017/09/14/thursday-photo-prompt-scattered-writephoto/

GUNNING FOR LOVE

By Neel Anil Panicker

‘Salaam, Arif Chacha.’

The septuagenarian looked up and peered through the iron bars at the young girl outside.

It took him some time before his cataract ridden eyes adjusted to the dark outside; gradually the silhouette of a burqa clad woman came into vision.

He adjusted his old worn out spectacles and gradually the face turned clearer.

His eyes shot up in recognition.

“Why! You are Liza baby. Allekum Salam. It’s been ages. The last time I saw you were a young child…barely ten or so.”

The blare of passing horns muted the last words.

Liza half turned and shot a glance at the street behind her.

Old Delhi, even at this hour of the night, refused to slow down; tongas, cycle rickshaws, scooters, cars, massive trucks carrying loadfuls of cement, bricks, iron bars and other construction materials whizzed in and out of narrow lanes. The sound of human voices in an array of tongues clashed with a medley of mind numbing sounds, the overall effect not unlike that of a madhouse on fire.

Liza hastily tucked her hands under her burqa; though covered from top to toe she couldn’t afford the risk of being spotted.

This was her father’s area. His people were all around.

If word reached Afzal Guru’s ears that the Don’s daughter was seen here in

Kabootar Wali Galli then her goose was cooked.  The Don would roast her alive.

“Arif Chacha, I need a favour”.

The old man’s eyes peered at her. Favour? What possible favour could the Don’s daughter want from him?

“It’s urgent. I need your help”.

It took a moment before the penny dropped.

From behind the iron bars the old man quickly inspected the street behind her.

Though choc-a-bloc with human activity, none were looking over to his small nondescript hole in the wall establishment.

But still this wasn’t the time to take risks, more the guest at his door was the dreaded don’s daughter.

He made a decision. Within seconds a small door square slit opened inwards with space just about enough for a person to squeeze through.

He motioned Liza to enter.

Once inside, he shut the trap door and waited for Liza to adjust herself to the darkness.

“Yes, Liza baby. What’s it that you want? You could have asked for it and I would have personally come and delivered it.”

Tiem was running out. Liza too realized the enormous amount of risks she was taking. Moreover, she didn’t want anyone, least of all Arif Chacha to get into trouble because of her.

Without wasting anymore time, she blurted out, “Chacha. I need some bombs”.

Even in the pitch darkness, she noticed the old man’s expressions had changed.

A look of sheer horror and shock swept through the pockmarked face.

“I need it now. Will you help me, Chacha”?

The old man, though still reeling under shock, thought over her request.

True, he was an arms dealer, an illegal supplier of arms.

For over two centuries his family was in business; a family tradition passed on from one generation to the other.

All manner of people were his clients.

Petty thieves, professional robbers, hardened criminals, even unscrupulous politicians__they all came to him, buying his wares for a price.

It was a business conducted in absolute stealth; a single word, a furtive glance, a quick exchange of goods, a hasty retreating into wilderness.

He looked at the burqa clad girl I front of him and understood.

Without uttering another word, he motioned her inside to a small inner room sans any windows.

“Here, take your pick”.

Lined up from floor to ceiling were machine guns, machetes, swords,, small firearms, and placed in a corner were scores upon scores of bombs, packed in boxes, their tops ripped open.

A maniacal gleam lighted up Liza’s eyes. She bent down and picked a box. It contained six large circular bombs, all bottled green in colour.

She got up and was about to leave  when her eyes fell on a row of small pistols.

“Those are of foreign make. Six rounds each. They come with inbuilt silencers.”

Liza picked one and slid it along with the box of bombs inside the inner pockets of her burqa.

“I don’t know what you intend to do with this but I wish you the best, my dear baby.”

In the dark the two looked at one another. Liza knew the old man was taking a tremendous risk by helping the Don’s daughter; a risk that could lead to his death.

“Thank you Arif Chacha. I have looked at you as my own and I shall never forget your benevolence. Khuda Hafiz”.

And then she was gone. As stealthily as she had come, carrying, hidden under her coat, enough arsenal to wreck havoc and free her love.

As she wound her way past the narrow footpaths and sped towards

Sumer Manzil, Liza’s prayed and hoped that her plans for the morrow would come to fruition.

Ali’s words from the previous night spurred her forward, adding a zing to her steps, and filling her lovelorn heart with unbridled passion.

“Everything is fair in love and war, my baby”.

©neelanilpanicker2017#ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 2017 #part19ofadangerouslove #fiction #novella #

#Thursday photo prompt – Scattered #writephoto

#860words

DEAR READERS/COLLEAGUES/FELLOW WRITERS/FRIENDS

If you would like to read the earlier parts of this ongoing novella ‘A DANGEROUS LOVE’

kindly click on the links 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
PART SEVENTEEN
PART EIGHTEEN

neelwrites.parteighteenofadangerouslove/fiction/09/09/2017

SOMETHING IS BREWING

By Neel Anil Panicker

“What’s that smell?” Lakhi asked, careful not to raise his voice.

Ali inched his ears forward. The decibel levels were increasing alarmingly.

Despite the two seated barely half a feet from each other, it was proving quite a task to listen leave alone reply to each other.

“It’s the procession. Incense sticks, burning oil, camphor…all the other paranerphalia. Don’t you know this is Ganesh Chathurthi? They are carrying Lord Ganesha idols for visarjan,” Ali replied, a tad annoyedly.

The two looked through the iron bar railings and saw as far as the eye could see a long line of trucks

and buses.

Seated atop each one of them were a raucous band of bandana sporting clad youngsters besides a few middle aged and elderly men and women, their foreheads smeared in gulal, white milky liquid streaming out of their mouths, all swaying wildly to the ear splitting beats of foot tapping Ganesha songs from chartbuster Bollywood hits, the catchy lyricsextolling the virtues of the much loved Elephant God.

As the sun came down harshly through the barbed wires, Ali turned his eyes away and looked at  Lakhi. Around them were around ten odd other prisoners.

Roughly under an hour had elapsed since the van had left Gate No. 3 of Tihar Jail.

Ali smiled as he recollected the happenings of the day. Early in the morning all of them had been lined in the main prison yard adjacent to the Soap Factory. A warden had walked upto each one of them and passed a metal detector around their bodies, closely looking for any beep sounds.

The effort ended in fruition as out came out several blades, more than a few knives, a couple of cigarette lighters, packs of cigarettes, even a an ice pick and a battery charger.

The guilty were harangued and marched down to the Chief Warden’s Office from where soon enough one could hear their heart rending cries and wailings as the sound of leather boots, and heavily knuckled belts on searing skin tore asunder the early morning air.

Third degree mechanisms and then hard labour followed by several days of solitary confinement__prison punishments were clearly not for the faint hearted and the feeble minded.

Ali and Lakhi exchanged quick glances. The latter had the foresight to keep his improvised spatula safely tucked under his stone bed.

‘No point getting caught this foolishly, ‘ he had reasoned while persuading Ali too to do the same with his cellphone.

Soon their turn had come and after a thorough full body search, the duo were cleared and along with other waiting prisoners commanded top board the vehicle that was warming itself, anxiously awaiting to ferry the inmates to Tiz Hazari Courts.

“ What’s your mind saying? Will the judge grant you bail today,” Ali inquired of Lakhi. The question brought forth a scowl in the latter’s face.

“Bull shit,” he spat out. “ It’s all one big elaborate charade. The bastards have been ferrying us back and forth like cattle every three months or so. All we do is show our mug shots and then  the Judge slams his gravel and barks, ‘bail plea rejected’.”

Ali caught the discomfiture in his cell mate’s voice and was about to say something when Lakhi continued,”The only good thing that comes out all this façade is that I get to meet my gangsta friends who sneak in a few packs of ciggies, even a bottle of whisky or so. Besides, I get to meet Billo, my love”.

The last words sent Ali’s mind scurrying into a tizzy. A s his heart beats increased, he felt a stirring in his loins.

Very soon his eyes brightened  and so did his face as thoughts of meeting Liza after such a long time  flooded his mind, filling his heart with inexplicable joy.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #parteighteenofadangerouslove #fiction

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
PART SEVENTEEN

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/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/

 

 

neelwrites/thedisclosure/SPF/partelevenofdangerouslove/15/08/2017

Hosted at https://sundayphotofictioner.wordpress.com/2017/08/13/sunday-photo-fiction-august-13th-2017/

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THE DISCLOSURE

208 08 August 13th 2017

By Neel Anil Panicker

“How would you like to die? Be deep fried in hot molten oil or mutton chopped into small little pieces to serve the gastronomic tastes of gourmands?”

‘What?’

Ali couldn’t believe his ears. It was his fourth week in Tihar Jail and he was on the phone with Liza and she was talking about death, his death.

“Yes, jaan. Get ready to die. Abbu is after your life.”

The name of the dreaded mafia don Abu Fazal sent a chill down his spine.

‘What?’

Jaan, our little secret is out. Abbu knows all about us. He’s making plans to kill you.”

Ali felt a lump form in his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. Suddenly, the heat in his six by eight feet cell turned unbearable.

‘But how? How’s is it possible. How did you get to know?’

“I don’t know dear. Somebody’s ratted on us. I got to know about it last night. Like most other nights these past few weeks, ever since you’ve been in Tihar, sleep has become my enemy.

I was hungry and headed to the kitchen. Was passing by Abbu’s den when I heard voices from inside. It was Abbu. He was speaking to someone over the phone. I held my breath and cocked my ears to the door. It was then that I heard him say, “The bastard. I’ll teach that traitor a lesson he’ll never forget, even when interred in his grave. How dare he even look at my daughter. Kill him, Salim. I order you to make kheema of that bastard.”

I couldn’t believe my ears. My very own father ordering the murder of his only daughter’s lover?

My heart pounding and my head swirling like a typhoon, I somehow pulled myself away and tiptoed back to my room. Ali my dear, my love, my jaan, they are after you. He’s going to kill you, to kill me also if need be. I know him. He means what he says. I’m scared. I fear for you, for your safety. I can’t bear to think of a life without you…please my love, we need to do something…you need to do something…please…”

Ali heard footsteps approaching his barrack.

“Someone’s coming. Will call you later. Will do something…I promise…have faith, my love”.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #partelevenofadangerouslove#thedisclosure#379

 

neelwrites/alonelyvigil/parttenofadangerouslove/fiction/358/12/08/2017

Thursday photo prompt – Alone #writephoto

Hosted by the gracious Sue Vincent at https://scvincent.com/2017/08/10/thursday-photo-prompt-alone-writephoto/

A LONELY VIGIL

By Neel Anil Panicker

Prisons make for great camaraderie.

Call it brotherhood of the underdog, survival instincts, or sheer boredom,

it is not unusual for two people locked in a common cell to turn into best buddies over a period of time.

It’s two in the morning, though within the darkened walls of a prison cell, time is but a mere statistic, meaningless and of not much value.

Crouched in a corner and still holding in his hands the tiny cell phone, Ali just about had time to digest the earth shattering news that Moosa had conveyed to him seconds ago when he looked up to find his prison mate not just wide awake but staring down at him from across the cell room, a mystery smile playing on his lips.

It was a look that transported Ali back to his childhood days in his impoverished village in Gorakhpur; a look the landlord’s henchmen at the orchard farm used to give him when they suspected him of stealing mangoes.

Momentarily shaken, Ali quickly regained his composure, and looked his cell mate in the eye.

The two locked horns for what seemed an eternity. It was his cellmate who broke the stare and flashed a smile, only this time it was a wide, friendly smile, a smile that seemed to say, “don’t worry man, we’re both sailing in the same boat. All your secrets are mine too and shall remain so, forever buried in my heart’.

It was not long before the two convicts got talking. Before daybreak, Ali and his cell mate, whose name he came to know was Lakhi alias Lambu had become thick buddies.

Within the next few days and nights, the two had shared enough of their lives and confided just about enough to forge a strong bond of friendship.

Come nightfall and as the prison would plunge darkness, the two friends would huddle around the bed and converse for long hours till they fell prey to sleep.

It was while in the midst of one such nightly conversation that Ali received a call from Liza, a call that had the potential to change the course of his life.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #alonelyvigil#parttenofadangerouslove#ofprisonnights#358

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

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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