Asak Hisak Lyrics by Bathiya and Santhush (BnS)

With no eye, no head … with no hand, no foot,
you came and drew close to me,
and the palace I had built at the edge of my heart,
you yourself came and set on fire

Wrapped close beside me amid sighs … saying closeness kills loneliness,
even so, having decorated all of this, you left me alone,
and I feel that you will leave me

With no eye, no head … with no hand, no foot,
you came and drew close to me,
and the palace I had built at the edge of my heart,
you yourself came and set on fire

Though I keep thinking you are beside me … winning in every moment,
I come to understand the rule … that this whole life
is nothing but a sorrowful anxiety

With no eye, no head … with no hand, no foot,
you came and drew close to me,
and the palace I had built at the edge of my heart,
you yourself came and set on fire

This is a melancholy, philosophical love song from the same Sasara Parami series, sung by Santhush. Its haunting opening describes something with no eye and no head, no hand and no foot, a formless, shapeless thing, that still came and drew close to him. It is love itself, or attachment, pictured as an intangible force, and what it does is merciless: the palace I had built at the edge of my heart, he says, you yourself came and set on fire.

The middle holds the ache of a togetherness that already feels doomed. She wraps close beside him amid his sighs, telling him that closeness kills loneliness, and yet, having decorated all of this, she leaves him alone, and he can feel that she will leave for good. Even inside the warmth there is the certainty of loss.

The ending lifts the private heartbreak into a quiet Buddhist truth. Though he keeps thinking she is beside him, winning in every moment, he slowly understands the neethi, the rule, underneath it all: that this whole life is nothing but a duk so sankaawa, one long sorrowful anxiety, an echo of dukkha itself. It is love song and meditation at once, using a single burning palace to say that everything we build and cling to is bound, in the end, to slip away.