By: Shloka Shankar   Have you ever succumbed to writer’s block? Do the blinking cursor and that blank page on your monitor get the better of you? Have you ever felt the urge to write something, anything at all, to break…

By: Shloka Shankar  Another school year came to an end, and another heady, dizzying summer lay ahead of us. Earlier that week, my school had closed after what seemed an interminably long academic year, and I had passed into fifth grade…

By: Shloka Shankar   The clock looks at me indignantly And I wonder what I did to upset Time; I’ve whiled away countless minutes Twiddling my thumbs, Or contemplating a lost thought, Or in self-delusion. I’ve had my share of insomnia,…

By: Shloka Shankar  There was a time when Things were surreal; I was happy. . . As evasive as that vixen is, I’ve been abandoned Time and again. From us and we, I stand as my lone self; Something was between…