There was a time in life when I would scoff at the idea of `writer’s block.’ I screamed till I went hoarse, whether anybody heard it or not, that it was a figment of writers’ imagination – the so called `block.’ It was lack of discipline, I said. I also said, it was a great excuse to escape reality which was, like I said, lack of discipline. I will `never’ experience it in this lifetime, I swore. And then it happened. Like most things I said would `never’ happen to me and they all did, `writer’s block’ hit me too. It’s been 7 years since I wrote my first book `Butterflies and Barbed Wires’ and five years since my 2nd book `Hyderabad Hazir hai’ . We are at the end of 2013, I have completed 3/4ths of a psychological thriller and almost done with an authorized biography but am sitting stuck at one point which seems like the hour that precedes the dawn on an insomniac night. Somebody help me! Or is that somebody me?