Waradak Kalath Hithakin Nowe Lyrics by Sanath Nandasiri

Even if I did wrong, it wasn’t out of spite
So why hurt me, why take revenge?
She is just like you, and you are just like her
To me, you are both like my own two eyes …//

Putting out your fire by burning her heart
what was the point of us coming together? ….//
Nothing has changed, so with my empty hand
whose tears am I left to wipe away?

Even if I did wrong, it wasn’t out of spite …/

You left helpless, and she left all alone
will the two of you curse me?
From your world, and from her world
will I be the one who has to say goodbye?

Even if I did wrong, it wasn’t out of spite …//

A man stands caught between two women he loves, and he is pleading to be understood. He admits he has done something wrong, but he insists it was never out of cruelty or a wish to hurt anyone. That is the whole ache of the song, a heart that strayed without meaning to wound, and a man begging the two people he loves not to punish him for it. “She is just like you, and you are just like her, to me you are both like my own two eyes” is the line that holds it together. In Sinhala, calling someone “like my own two eyes” (ඇස් දෙක වගෙයි) is the tenderest way to say I cannot choose, I cannot lose either of you, you are both as precious and as necessary to me as my own sight.

As the song moves on, he sees the cruelty hidden inside his own situation. To comfort one woman is to break the other, “putting out your fire by burning her heart,” and so he asks what their coming together was even for, if it only made someone else suffer. Nothing has truly been solved. He is left standing with an empty hand, not knowing whose tears he is supposed to wipe away first, because both of them are crying and he is the cause.

By the last verse the guilt has turned inward and turned to dread. He pictures one of them left helpless and the other left utterly alone, and he wonders if both will end up cursing him. Then comes the quietest, saddest possibility of all, that the only honest way out is for him to leave both worlds, to walk away from both women rather than keep wounding them. The song never lets him off the hook, but it refuses to make him a villain either. It sits in that unbearable middle place, a man who loved too much in two directions, holding nothing in the end but his own empty hands and the wish that everyone could see he never meant any harm.