(Genre:Realistic Fiction)

By Neel Anil Panicker

She’s the antithesis of a politician.

Well read, articulate, with an accent to boot.

Quiet__it’s the modifier that best describes her.

That ways Atishi, her first name, is a total mismatch.

My pigdin reservoir of Hindi (or is that Urdu?) tells me its English equivalent’s fireworks.

That’s another universe away.

A name mismatch if there ever was one.

Why then, did she drop the Marlena, I wonder.

Her answer’s in poetic form:

Mirror mirror on the wall,

who’s the cruelest of them all

The ones demanding that I drop my name?

Or, the ones questioning why I dropped my name?

#neelanilpanicker #fridayfictioneers #india #politics #AAP #name calling #name dropping

31 August 2018

REF NOTE: AAP hits out at Delhi chief secretary and Centre over CCTV project

AAP leader Atishi Marlena drops last name, party denies forcing her to do so

While Atishi’s Twitter handle has changed from @Atishimarlena to @AtishiAAP, her name has also been amended on the AAP website.

AAP leader Atishi Marlena drops last name, party denies forcing her to do so






Aligarh Muslim University, AMU

Image result for jinnah

By Neel Anil Panicker

Are we going Pakistan’s way? Are we becoming a mirror reflection of what Pakistan has become in recent years?

By focusing our eyes, ears and all of our sensory perceptions on our next door neighbour are we in real danger of morphing into the monster that Pakistan has turned into?

Well, if you were to ask me I am going to stick my neck out and say an emphatic ‘Yes’.

Chew on this___Ram, Padmavat, cow, beef, Taj…we seem to be never falling short of issues to fight over. Almost every other day we are out on the streets, armour and shield, guns blazing, ready to attack and maraud and exterminate vile enemies of the nation__be they real or imaginary.

The goal posts keep changing, the game remains the same, the spectators ever on the rise.

The latest in this year’s edition of the IPL- acronym for the great Indian Political League__is the absolutely farcical and totally unavoidable brouhaha created over Mohammed Ali Jinnah’s portrait.

I am of the firm opinion that all those students and their political Godfathers who are crying themselves hoarse and fighting a pitched battle in a bid to force authorities to remove Jinnah’s portrait from the precincts of Aligarh Muslim University, are anti-nationals.

Yes, you heard that__these lumpen hooliganists, this fringe group of pseudo nationalists who indulge in violence and fight over non-issues, who go about brow beating and attacking all those who oppose them including the police and all right thinking citizens of this great country__they all are anti-nationals for in this 21 ist century post liberalised highly competitive modernist economic world that we live in the only rightful definition of anti-national that we need to subscribe to is one who expends his time and resources in derailing the economic growth of a nation.

For aren’t they not anti-nationals all those who burn effigies, stop traffic and hold up trains, sit in dharnas and kill and loot and plunder in the name of protecting, preserving, protecting, upholding some abstract dinosaur like values so very absolutely anachronistic in today’s jet age?

Shouldn’t the students of Aligarh Muslim University of both  and all political hues be expending their valuable time and energy into the

pursuit of education, a pursuit that would not just shore up their intellectual wealth but also help them bag jobs and ultimately lift this country out of the economic morass that it has fallen into?

It is a question that needs answering; not just by the innocent lambs who are systematically led to slaughter by their political self serving selfish political masters but by all right thinking national loving citizens of this country.

And the answers need to come, fast and quick, for I am afraid, the time is running out.

#neelanilpanicker #editorial #KNEELING DOWN #jinnah #amu #politics #anti-national #portrait



Image result for naresh agarwal
By Neel Anil Panicker
For everything I’m game
I’ve absolutely no shame
Nobody’s to blame
For me all are same
What I do has no name
Though I have some fame.
#neelanilpanicker #poem #politics #nareshagarwal #modi #india #politics



Sunday Photo Fiction – June 25th 2017

get the InLinkz code



10 Eric Wicklund 25 June 2017

© Eric Wicklund

By Neel Anil Panicker

For the first time in his two decade long police career, Inspector Akhtar Shameem of Jammu & Kashmir Special Crime Unit felt what it was like to be on the other side of the law.

The tables had turned__the cop had become the criminal, or so it seemed.

Holed up in his current hideout__an abandoned timber factory located some fifteen miles off Srinagar Highway, and barely a few thousand meters from the Pakistan border, the middle-aged cop went over the events of the previous few weeks.

He had been investigating a drug seizure case a month ago when he stumbled upon the involvement of two prominent legislators.

On digging further, he unearthed a multi-billion dollar drug cartel whose tentacles spread across the border was run by Shah Maqsood Gilani, the Chief Minister’s son.

Soon he had had visitors_ machine gun wielding men who riddled his house with bullets, (luckily his wife and two children were at his in-law’s for a family wedding); strange men who made vile threats over the phone and hurled bombs at his police station.

Inspector Shameem checked his watch. 12.35 pm. It was time to make his move.

His contact Haider would be waiting, as promised.

©neelanilpanciker2017  #SPF #200words




By Neel Anil Panicker

“Dr James Ekka, the charge against you is that you slept with your patient. Is that true?”

Steering aside a mop of hair from his temples, Dr James peered at the four men and lone woman staring down at him from across the table.

They were the Medical Board; an exclusive clique, an omnipotent group that ran Lifeline Hospital.

‘I…was… am in love…’

‘Love? What crap? Is that why you sneaked into her room and stayed there for over five hours’, thundered Mr. Rangoonwalla, the seventy year old Owner-Chairman.

He winked at the lady to his left. Thirty-five-year old Dr. Brinda, Head, Orthopaedics, responded with a coquettish smile.

It was an open secret that she had dumped her architect husband within a month of joining and was now ‘close’ to Rangoonwalla.

‘The bastards. They want to finish off his career, that too over a patient who he had treated and cured of cancer, a woman he liked and well, loved.’

Rangoonwalla’s harsh voice cut severed his thoughts.

“ You are dismissed with immediate effect”.

As Dr James walked out of the hospital gates, his phone rang.

“Dear doc, I am in love. Will you cure me?”, a familiar voice inquired.

©neelanilpanicker2017 #fiction #shortstory #FFfPP #200words



WEEK #11

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



 By Neel Anil Panicker

The other day I heard our PM Narendra Modi rolling up his sleeves and then after the customary ‘Mitron’ salutation, going forth to ridicule his bête noire and heir apparent to the Congress throne, Rahul Gandhi, even going to the extent of mimicking his speaking style and then ending with the downright demeaning “the kid seems to be learning to speak now”.

Agreed, detractors of Rahul may have a long list of grievances against him including his apparent “non-speaking skills”, his utter lack of political acumen,   his ability to keep putting his foot in his mouth every single time he opens his mouth.

But does that in any way allow one, and especially so, the PM to deride and denigrate and demean the poor soul from every single forum that he graces?

And if you are one of those who doesn’t care a crap about the Congress Party and/or what ails its most prominent poster boy, then all I can say to that is: I am sorry, but I do care a crap.

And that’s  because it is not just about competence or the lack of it; it is not merely about a particular party enjoying brute majority or another tottering in the doldrums, it’s also not just about one being a leader with spell bound oratorical skills or another one who looks as if he suffers from lifelong stage fright.

It is about certain abstracts that help a society remain social if not sociable; attributes that one can’t put a monetary value to such as dignity of the individual and respect for all including and especially towards those who may not match upto our expectations.

I hope Mr Modi and his ilk who day in and day out throw around their awesome weights to pull down ‘outdated’ symbols and institutions and people not to their likings and temperaments realize this.

And I hope this realization dawns sooner on them than later for even if they don’t give a crap, the right thinking, peace loving citizens of this country and elsewhere do give a crap.


neelwrites/essay/USelections/the beginningoftheend/17/11/2016


By Neel Anil Panciker

A week ago the absolute unthinkable happened. I watched on television the less comical, more tragical spectacle of a slithery seventy year old bronze haired man daubed in mismatched silver and horrendous pink thundering from the stage his silver tongued note of thanks to the people of America, to at least all those who elected him to become the next President of America.

As the camera panned the crowd I noticed  that amongst his retinue of supporters who cheered every single word and gesture of his__standing and thumping their fists from all around the overfilled convention hall__were a sizeable number of women, mostly White.

I switched off the idiot box in exasperation.

I am angry and let me to tell you why. Angry that citizens of the most powerful nation of the world could elect someone like Donald Trump to be their President for the next four years.
Trump supporters, (and mind you they lurk in every nook and corner of the  world), nay sayers,  fence sitters and generally do no gooders might go ahead and argue that why and how does it concern me, sitting here in India, a million miles away, who gets elected as America’s President.

“Why bother over someone who is not your President or Prime Minister?” is their argument.

But then that’s exactly my point. We just don’t care if the problem is not immediate to our concerns or affects us in our daily lives.

But then that’s precisely the reason why a person with a stinkingly large amount of money and questionable bonafides was able to tap into the fragile sentiments of the vast underbelly of anxiety driven, debt ridden near jobless working class America and able to whip up a xenophobic rage so fierce that it ultimately saw them turning in multitudes to vote him into office.

The election of this evil Pied Piper who so very cleverly has deceived a lot of ‘mice’ into falsely believing in his promise of Utopia, is to say the least, the death knell of morality in this world.

It is the beginning of the end of justice and fair play and of our belief in the higher and nobler ideals of righteousness and decency.

It is not just a huge body blow to all right thinking men and women of America who fought tooth and nail to keep that megalomaniac, pussy grabbing, bad mouthing, deranged sadistic monster called Trump, but it is also a triumph for a miniscule but increasingly burgeoning belligerent gang; those  purveyors of sexist and misogynistic ideologies; the sellers of myopic dresams.

It is the ultimate thunderous seal of approval for all manner of social misconduct; the proud chest thumping uproarious acceptance of sexual abuse, rape and incest.

The triumph of such an obviously farcical cartoon as Trump is a victory of bad over good; a sure shot boost for all sexual predators and rapists out there in every city and country of the world; those men of all ages and hues and colours and sexual preferences who brazenly carry out their despicable acts of perversion, playing with and abusing the trust and innocence of young kids and poor, hapless women who are  forced to silently suffer such indignations and utter humiliations even as they find their voices stifled and their spirits crushed by an increasingly masochistic world that conveniently glosses over and in some cases, as witnessed by the elevation of Trump as President, hails them as rightful acts of male machismo that are treated as the birthright of the vainly rich and insanely powerful.

I am sadly ashamed and deeply shocked that innocent, educated and hard working American White men, and quite a few women too, bought into this monster serial abuser’s sales spiel of restoring the dignity of the White majority; of setting right the alleged wrongs of a skewed labour market; of restoring the primacy of hitherto ignored small towns and cities of America and hoisting them as the next big thing__the new epicenters of wealth and prestige.

But more than all this, even more shockingly repulsive is the sickening thought that despite being fed lurid details of the litany of sexual misadventures indulged in by this man and his masochistic and bombastic acceptance of the same, a vast majority of otherwise well informed White Americans and quite a few non-Whites as well bought into this utter nonsense and whipped up homophobic rage and angst masterfully choreographed up by Trump and his dubious gang of self serving supporters

Clearly, all those who voted this man to the chair of the most powerful man on Earth have bartered their souls in the mistaken exchange for what they believe is the beginning of good tidings.

By electing him they have invited the Devil into their homes. And for Trump, he simply gets a much larger canvas now to shamelessly play out his debauchery and indulge in gory sexual fantasies;, only this time, it comes with legal sanction.

The election of such a vain, vile and unrepentant sexual predator is the most immoral thing to have happened for a long, long time.

Very tragically, for once, bad has trumped good.