When the Grass Beneath Your Feet, Flies into Your Eyes unfolds through a constellation of memories, dreams, landscapes, animation, and silence. A voice struggles to emerge from a memory that returns in altered forms, where forgotten fragments continue speaking through the present.

The film moves between the brief life of a mayfly, a banyan tree that outlives its own trunk, recurring dreams, overheard conversations, inherited stories, and traces of lives that resist disappearance. These fragments accumulate without resolving into a single narrative, revealing how histories, identities, and acts of exclusion repeat across time while constantly changing their outward forms.

Blurring the boundaries between the personal, the ecological, and the political, the film reflects on what remains after forgetting: invisible structures, overlooked witnesses, and memories that survive beneath official histories. Borrowing its title from Kabir's verse, it turns toward what is usually unnoticed, suggesting that even the smallest and most disregarded presence can alter how we see the world.