My first reading of Megha Nayar‘s work was in Trampset. Told in the second person, it masterfully captures the relationship between a father and his child. Consider the lines, soaked in the deepest of emotions: “he is allowed to not desire the same things as his father, and that for all the grief the father—your father—has unleashed upon the son—you—simply for being himself—yourself—the father is truly, deeply sorry.” Her piece in Ayaskala, deftly titled ‘The Exit Protocol’, told again in the second person, carries the same thread of detachment, and the plan of an escape: “why must a perfectly capable woman spend the precious remainder of her existence shackled by this small man and his small mind?” I love the character nuances told in little routine observations, and the final lines of this piece.

The possibilities of the hybrid form in fiction can be tasted in Megha’s story in Harpy Hybrid Review. When you’ve finished reading it, jump to her piece in Bending Genres. I love how the experimental structure is taken to a higher level in this story . A very important message: “We also request all those whom this message will reach, with folded hands, to never drink and drive.” is packaged in a dark, but necessary, narrative.

Finally, let’s get to this Macromic story, told also in the second person. Notice the beautiful detailing here, the way it is paced, shifting from daily monotony to profound realizations effortlessly: “Your mother has become a million things she wasn’t known to be.” About a mother-daughter, and how the illness transforms them, it is sure to tug at your heart-strings.

Megha is a English and French teacher. We look forward to the Commonwealth Writers long-listee to enthrall us with her words in the new year!