Lyrics

Before the name,
before the face,
before the story learned its place—
something was already here.

I thought the self was something private,
something sealed behind the skin,
a small and separate constellation
trying to make a world within.

Ātman like a quiet center,
not the image, not the role,
not the thousand passing versions
I have mistaken for the whole.

If the wave can name its shape
and still be made of sea,
maybe being only “me”
was never all of me.

Tat tvam asi—
you are that.

Not the distance,
not the lack.

Not a fragment cut from heaven,
not a soul that stands alone.

Brahman breathing through the many,
one light wearing different forms.

Tat tvam asi—
you are that.

Maybe wholeness never left.

Maybe all this separation
was a language of the self.

I have drawn so many borders,
called them body, called them mine,
called the inside something sacred,
called the outside something other.

But the breath does not ask permission,
light does not stop at skin,
and every time I reach for silence
something wider answers in.

Ahamkāra builds the boundary,
buddhi learns to see it clear,
what I call identity
may only be a doorway here.

If the drop can hold the ocean
without losing its own shape,

maybe unity is not erasure,
maybe difference can remain.

Tat tvam asi—
you are that.

Not the distance,
not the lack.

Not a fragment cut from heaven,
not a soul that stands alone.

Brahman breathing through the many,
one light wearing different forms.

Tat tvam asi—
you are that.

Maybe wholeness never left.

Maybe all this separation
was a language of the self.

Ātman…
the innermost witness.
Brahman…
without edge, without end.

Aham brahmāsmi—
not the ego crowned as infinite,

but the quiet recognition
that the deepest “I”
was never separate from this.

Not above the body.
Not outside the earth.
Not escaping what is human
to discover what I’m worth.

If the sacred is not elsewhere,
if the whole is also here,
then every face becomes a mirror,
every life becomes more near.

Tat tvam asi—
you are that.

Under every name and mask.

Under longing,
under memory,
under everything that passes.

Brahman moving through the many,
Ātman burning quietly.

Not two worlds that need uniting—

one reality
learning how to see.

Tat tvam asi—
you are that.

Aham brahmāsmi.
Not becoming something greater.

Remembering
what has always been.

The wave keeps its shape.
The ocean stays whole.

And neither
was ever alone.