Meera Jhala

Meera is thirtysomething, Indian-American, and a hard scientist.  She did her PhD at a school you have heard of, and she was a small-town college professor until she wasn't any more.  She spent a long time in first person singular, but then she met a man who made her prefer plural, so she married him and made a little Xerox copy.  She works in a job that can best be described as engineering.  And since she can't help writing, she writes.


"With the fluorescent lights dimmed, even the sickly green cinder block hallways seemed serene. In the half-darkness, the lockers were castle halls, and she really was a princess..."


"As my eyes traced the inverted parabola of flowers, I felt relief; I could pretend that she had never been more than a picture, and that in the years I stayed away I had lost nothing at all."

--Grandmother's Photograph

Published Pieces

    • Oscillator, The Washington Pastime (March 1, 2013).

    • She Drinks Barium Sulfate Before Her CT Scan, DOGZPLOT (February 2013).  Selected as one of the 2014 Wigleaf Top 50 (Very) Short Fictions.

    • Ma's Move, Read Short Fiction (June 24, 2012).

    • Ugly, Every Day Fiction (June 21, 2012).  A wonderful reading by Folly Blaine is here.

    • Grandmother's Photograph, Flashquake (Fall 2011 issue, page 41).
        [Flashquake has, sadly, folded.]


    • Breakfast, One Forty Fiction, June 20, 2011.

    • Class, One Forty Fiction, April 28, 2011.