By Neel Anil Panicker

It’s time we draw the curtain on this unfortunate episode of our lives hoping that we don’t commit the same mistakes that we did and…

“Hoping that we commit fresh ones, right John?”

Well, if what you have just made is a sarcastic remark then let me tell that I am unwilling to humour you with a response.

“Oh! is that so, my dear husband ‘on paper’ for twenty odd years?”

“Or should I say the real reason for your  current display of all encompassing  philosophical mindset is that little nymphomaniac that you have tucked away in a remote corner of your office?”

Looks like it’s  curtains on our marriage.
#neelanilpanicker #sixsentencestories #curtain #fiction #shortstory



They said my faith is not theirs

Their knives slit my throat,

Have no faith, these men of faith.




Ankit Saxena murder: Minutes before he was killed, photographer’s frantic call to friends – Watch CCTV footage



20 Eric Wicklund January 28th 2018

© Eric Wicklund

By Neel Anil Panicker

The vows, the marriage vows, the one the two had uttered, every single word affirmed loud and clear, its intonation and enunciation, tone, pitch and volume, the modulation, inflection and elucidation of every single syllabic sound perfect to a T, all merrily cheered by every one of the select gathering of cherished friends and relatives as well as the entire paraphernalia of uncles, aunts, cousins et al __the penumbra of well wishers and gatherers who had come to bless the newly weds at the local church__the momentous event flashed past Jennifer’s mind as a sepia tinged memory that unfolded in ultra slow motion ala a long drawn TV soap opera.

How divinely graceful did she look as the pastor clasped their hands__ hers and Benny’s__ solemnly pronouncing them man and wife.

Alas! The euphoria lasted exactly six years. Six blissful years when hubby dear worshiped the ground she walked on, treating her like a queen, loving and caring for her to the hilt, passionately fulfilling every single need, want, and desire that she had ever nurtured in her bosom.

Then came the day when she became persona non grata; turned into just another discarded woman, left to drown herself in sorrow.


Sunday Photo Fiction – January 28th 2018

Hosted at




PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bultot

By Neel Anil Panicker

‘We’ve given all the dowry you’d demanded. Our honour’s at stake. What more do you want?’

Rita couldn’t believe her eyes. Her father was on his knees, begging tears of mercy from the groom’s father while her entire clan stood quivering in fear.

“Stop it. I’m calling off this marriage. Why should boys have all the fun? It’s time to change the rules of the game. Time girls did the picking.”

As the stunned groom and his entourage looked on, she delivered the final volley, ‘And now will you leave or shall I call the police”?
©2018neelanilpanicker #fiction #fridayfictioneers #flash #100words


Welcome to Six Sentence Stories



By Neel Anil Panicker

“See this jam, Tasty all by itself, but pretty much useless otherwise; you need to warm it, make it fluid,  before it can be spread on bread and become a gourmand’s delight.

Same’s the case with relationships.

Take mine for instance. Left to ourselves, we, Arthur and I, are like bread and jam.
Two wonderful but entirely different people with different attributes, different temperaments, different tastes, likes, dislikes et al.
The zing, the spark, the magic happens only when we are together; that’s because we don’t supplement but only complement each other.

That’s being fluid____knowing who you are and what you bring to the table, when and how much to give and take, so that together you help create the perfect dish, and that my friends is the secret of our long and happy marriage.
‘Wow! that’s great. So between the two of you, who is the bread and who is the jam?’

“Hmm…good question. Lemme think.”



Hosted by the charming Rochelle at




By Neel Anil Panicker

“Hmm! That’s a really big rock”, exclaimed Aruna with barely concealed envy.

That instantly lit up Vaishali’s face; a face one of her several admirers had likened to a ‘Leonardo Da Vinci portrait’.

‘The Mona Lisa itself’, had gushed someone else.

Looking over the shoulders of her bestie, Vaishali surveyed the happy, smiling visages around her.

The movers and shakers of Kolkata had descended this cool Sunday evening to celebrate her betrothal to the Prince of Kolkata.

Vaishali eyed her engagement ring and sighed.

Alas! none would be there when her Prince would turn pauper.

Least of all, she.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #FF #99words


FFfAW Challenge-Week of July 25, 2017

Hosted at


This week’s photo prompt is provided by Louise with The Storyteller’s Abode. Thank you Louise!

By Neel Anil Panicker

Some people are genetically programmed to self destruct.

Take Michael Gonsalves for instance. Friend, savior, benefactor, altruist__ Micky was all this and then some more.

Dutiful son to elderly cataract ridden parents; loving husband to a devoted wife; doting father to an adorable baby girl, barely two months old; and rock star buddy to one and all.

It was then that lightning struck. It came in the form of Julie, a thirty something twice married, recently widowed female form with enough sex appeal to set the Ganges on fire.

She, his new office boss, within a month, became his life’s whole sole goal.

Soon salacious details of their hour-long capers reached the ears of his loved ones.

His wife and parents threatened, cajoled, persuaded, reprimanded, shouted, screamed, even begged but to no avail.

He was hooked onto her like a teen turned slave to marijuana.

Six months later it was all over. He went kaput__there was no job, no Julie, no wife and no family to go back to.

His friends sniggered; said he might as well have committed suicide.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #FFfAW #fiction#roackingtheboat