For the obvious ones,
thoughtfullness is another’s cup of tea.
It is the moments who breathe.
Timeless is too long for me and you to see.
Is not change the constant that comes to us
and everything at it’s will?
What is worth?
If not one’s words.
Fingers crossed, hearts look into other hearts.

-Manvendra Vidyarthi

(The Stories beneath the eyes)



It is tough.
The days end. Some makes  you forget.
Being away.
There comes a  Night. There comes a Day.
When things change.
The Time: The Day or The Night, you do not care.
It is the same.
But now you recall days of the years and the months.
Time that is done.
It does not come again. Now the tongues are less.
Despite the years.
You spent in order  to gain. Those you thought will always
Be the same.
For some reason, still unknown. Life contracts and expands.
At the same time.
The festive time bring smiles. A new knowledge you have gained.
They tell distance.
Those smiles you now memorize.
The Days walk away.
The Time that is done. It Does not come again.

-Manvendra Vidyarthi
(The Stories beneath the eyes)

The Extension (After the Angelectomy)

But I tell the infinite to find me.
Sleeping in the jungles of absurdity.
This nature keeps me still.

As for her, this is easy.
Which it will never speak.

It knows that I am weak.
All in where none of this finiteness.
Anything it will mean.

The white light will sit on me.
I will breathe through you I promise.
Accept me while there still be
The Infinite, The Time.

You’re too kind. I say to you again.
Too kind.
-Manvendra Vidyarthi.
(The Stories beneath the eyes)



To you, I am a puzzle.
A mathematical problem
that takes too much paper
and ink to be solved.
Because, to you, it looks so.
So you find me better, unsolved.
It is easy to open books
of subjects with no problems to solve.
So I stay unsolved. I stay unresolved.
But when again the mathematics of me, as you see.
Finds you in settlement with the easy things.
Unlike me. So you see.
Again I am a complex problem.
For you, needing too much paper
and ink to be solved.
You move on.
I stay unsolved. I stay unresolved.
Little you know. I am literature.
Just a good read and all is solved.
-Manvendra Vidyarthi
(The Stories beneath the eyes)

Becoming Dice

Silently you stepped over
to purchase the other side
of the line that had us separated
from all we would rather be.

The game had you roll like a dice.
Unaware of the numbers we were to face.
And the chances slipped from spaces
between our fingers where we held the same.
Belonging to us.
Not you. Not me. It was  us.

The key to the lock we have,
now rests on the ocean bed.
“Two is the number now, one is not.”
The Dice tells.
-Manvendra Vidyarthi.
(The Stories beneath the eyes)