Adara Purudda

Combing through dreams,
what I searched for was only
a rough touch upon the chest,
and, my eyes falling shut,
to be close to you, in that warmth

Love, I would call
a habit that burns the heart,
that drives the weariness away
even as the cracks break into pieces

A dream, I would call
the one that pulls you toward dying,
and in an instant, the heart longs
to curl up close beside you

A tender, intimate song about the ache of wanting to be close to someone. Even in sleep, combing through dreams, all the singer searched for was a rough touch upon the chest, the simple warmth of being held, eyes falling shut, close to the one she loves. Longing here is quiet and physical, a wish for nearness more than anything grand.

The middle defines love with a beautiful contradiction. Love, she says, is a habit that burns the heart, something that hurts, and yet, even as the cracks break into pieces, it is the very thing that drives the weariness away. It wounds and heals in the same motion, which is exactly why it becomes a habit you cannot give up.

The close names the pull of it. A dream, she says, is the kind that pulls you toward dying, love as something you would follow even to the edge, and in a single instant the heart longs to curl up close beside you. Sung by Lakshana Lakmini to words by Lakshika Rathnayaka, composed by Tharindu Damsara, it is a soft, aching song about love as a burning habit and a longing, above all, simply to be held close.