Dear…no…my dearest Samar, I have never written a letter. Not to you…to anyone. Never felt the need. Never knew what to write. And more importantly
Author: Neel Anil Panicker
Neel Anil Panicker holds a Master's in Creative Writing and Communication from Chennai. He wears several hats and is an independent journalist, commissioned writer, communicator and published author. He has worked and written extensively for various national and international newspapers, magazines and journals, and is the author of three books. His first non-fiction book ‘English Grammar for All’ met with huge success. It was followed by 'The Taste of the Elements of Life' , a debut collection of flash fiction stories, a debut 'fictional' memoir "When Life Throws Those Curve Balls', and two novels ‘Two And A Half Murders’ and 'Love in Tihar Jail'.
All in a Day
There could never be a more eventful day. It so happened that I was heading as usual to office. It was a regular Monday morning
Yours Never Truly
As a newly minted single mom with a five-year-old son to boot, you suddenly wake up to the bone crunching reality that the world has
Tipsy, Topsy Turvy
The touch of steel on smooth skin sent a tingling sensation down Nirav’s spine. Deed over, he splashed cold water over his face, nimble fingers
Turning Point
September 5, 2022: Delhi The guard at the entrance to Gate No. 4 stood up and smartly saluted. The left front glass window was lowered; a
Love’s Trajectory
When did we meet to make such memoriesbusy was I seeking her in her eyeswho knew love trails coursed such territories didn’t the philosopher muse- ‘in
Dead Man Tells Tales
‘My husband had been very ill and the doctor was insistent that we must give up living in the town. It was essential for him
A Forbidden Fruit
September 9, 2020, Mumbai “Even a dog wouldn’t eat such food”. The words were a sharp edged dagger that cut straight into her heart. Momentarily
Jallianwala- The Day Humanity Died
I remember the day distinctly. It was the 13th day of Baisakh. Both Pra and I had got up early. At the crack of dawn.
Heads You Win, Tails I Lose
Rajat Bundela walked up to his study and opened the second drawer. His eyes scanned a rectangular glass box. He bent forward, nimble fingers extricated