Time, it compels a lot of people and the relations to grow or to decay into things that forget the origins from where they emerged.

I have faced them and I am sure that you have too.

But knowing you, I believe if I hold onto my end the way I am supposed to.

Then you are such a person who will always be my constant.

-Manvendra Vidyarthi.


Listen, Listen Soul Listen.


Learn, Learn soul learn
to lay upon fallen plays
of destitution and of course the celebration.
To turn weeping cheek close
and the dishonest happy away.
As frail as a twig, as mighty as a burning wick.
The Remnant, the same.
Come, Come Soul Come.
Pierce through these windows
Off some distance above the grounds.
You may find, find some things
Stories untold, some stolen paste lore.
Or probably nothing at all.
Some, they carry empty halls.
– Manvendra Vidyarthi.
(The Stories beneath the eyes.)

“He Killed Her”

With his sly hands he wished to kill her now.
Snatch away every single sign of breath she could linger upon
and surface the coughs of death over her.

She made him weak with no regrets.
Kept drowning him deeper and deeper to ensure
he forgets the soothing taste of his loving wife on his helpless tongue.

But it was enough now. Ashamed of himself, he swore
he would never touch a glass, a bottle, anything filled with this lustful liquor.
He dropped her – the bottle smashed in front of his feet,
the liquor slowly flowing like blood
between the shattered sharp-edged pieces of the bottle.

-Manvendra Vidyarthi
(The Stories beneath the eyes.)