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Onsra is a Boro word that describes the bittersweet feeling of loving someone while already knowing it won’t last.
I started writing these songs individually around 2021, during the pandemic; without a clear theme, just capturing moments as they came. It wasn’t until I found an old high school diary that everything began to connect. Old notes, emails, and messages became fragments of something bigger. That’s when Onsra started to take shape.
Onsra is a collection of quiet stories about moments that never fully leave, even after they’ve ended. Built around that idea, the EP explores the space between presence and absence; where memory lingers longer than time allows.
Each track is anchored in a specific place or moment: a dream that fades with the morning, a delayed flight that becomes something more, a place that no longer exists, a kindness understood too late, a face known only through a screen, a message that never receives a reply, and a love that never had the chance to begin.
These are not stories about dramatic endings. They’re about what remains after; echoes, habits, unanswered questions, and quiet acceptance. The songs unfold through small details: a cold pillow, an airport gate, a motel sign, a hallway light, a sunrise, a glowing screen, a chat thread, a classroom board.
At its core, Onsra is about choosing to feel deeply, even when the moment is temporary. Not every story is meant to last; but some are meant to stay.
Cassandra - A one-sided connection shaped by distance, imagination, and projection.
Aubrey - A love that never began, but never really left either.
Carmen - A connection formed in transit, where time pauses but life doesn’t.
Onsra (Kareena) - Loving fully while already knowing the ending is coming.
Ursula - A quiet kind of love that stayed nearby, unnoticed until it was too late.
Donna - A conversation that didn’t end; it simply stopped.
Victoria - A dream that felt real enough to hold onto; until morning took it back.
Dahlia - A place once filled with meaning, now gone; but still remembered.
Cassandra
I wrote "Cassandra" after a simple but familiar moment. One day, while watching television, I saw my celebrity crush and found myself drifting into a daydream. For a while, I imagined being the person who could protect her, make her laugh, shield her from heartbreak, and be the one she could lean on when the cameras stopped rolling.
Then reality quietly set in.
I realized I was probably just one of millions of people imagining the very same thing. She would never know I existed, and the story I had created would always remain in my head.
"Cassandra" is about the distance between admiration and reality. It explores the quiet fantasy of wanting to save someone you'll never meet, while accepting that some dreams are meant to stay dreams. Blending cinematic imagery with heartfelt emotion, the song reflects on celebrity, loneliness, and the bittersweet feeling of caring deeply for someone who will never know your name.
Aubrey
I wrote "Aubrey" as the closing song of this EP, inspired by a memory that has quietly stayed with me since high school.
Aubrey and I never became a couple, but we both knew there was something between us. We exchanged glances, shared shy smiles, and found small, subtle ways to communicate without ever saying how we truly felt. I'd leave little hints written on the classroom board, and she'd answer in her own quiet way. Over time, those unspoken messages became our own secret language, one that only the two of us seemed to understand.
Neither of us was brave enough to make the first move.
When high school ended, Aubrey moved to another country, and our story ended before it ever had the chance to begin. Years have passed, but I've often wondered what might have happened if we had simply told each other how we felt. Was it just bad timing, or was life always meant to take us in different directions?
"Aubrey" is a song about first love, missed opportunities, and the quiet power of "what if." It reflects on how some people leave a lasting place in our hearts without ever becoming part of our lives. As the final song of the EP, it closes the journey with a lingering question rather than an answer, hoping that wherever Aubrey is today, she's happy, she's safe, and she's living the life she dreamed of.
Carmen
I wrote "Carmen" based on a chance encounter I had in 2005 at the Hong Kong airport. A delayed flight brought two strangers together. What began with a simple "hello" turned into hours of heartfelt conversation as we shared stories about where we came from and where we hoped to go.
Carmen told me she was escaping the endless routine of her everyday life, chasing the freedom of not knowing what came next. Her fearless spirit and quiet honesty made those few hours feel unforgettable. Before our paths separated, we shared a brief but meaningful kiss, leaving behind a memory that time could never erase.
"Carmen" is a song about the beauty of fleeting connections and the people who change us, even if they're only part of our lives for a moment. It's a nostalgic reflection on missed possibilities, wondering where life carried her, and hoping she found the freedom she was searching for.
Onsra
I wrote "Onsra" after hearing a beautiful word during a trip to India in 2010. While I was there, the woman (Kareena) I was dating introduced me to "Onsra", a word from the Boro language that describes the bittersweet feeling of loving someone while already knowing the relationship won't last.
She reminded me that our time together had an expiration date. Once I left India, our paths would separate. Instead of pretending forever was possible, she chose to embrace every moment we had. Her words stayed with me: love fully while you're here. It wasn't about denying the ending. It was about accepting it and still choosing love.
Inspired by that conversation and our shared experience, "Onsra" tells the story of two people who cherish every smile, every kiss, and every shared moment because they know they're temporary. It's about finding the courage to love with your whole heart, even when goodbye is already waiting. Sometimes the most meaningful love stories aren't the ones that last forever, but the ones that teach us how precious the present can be.
Ursula
I wrote "Ursula" about the kind of love that's easy to overlook. The song was inspired by Ursula from Spider-Man, whose quiet kindness and unwavering affection for Peter Parker always stayed with me. She never demanded attention or asked to be chosen. She simply cared, hoping that one day she'd be seen.
I once knew someone just like that. She quietly lingered around my life, bringing me food, checking on me, and showing her feelings through small acts of kindness instead of grand romantic gestures. She was gentle, shy, and sincere. I appreciated her, but my heart belonged to someone else, so I never saw her the way she hoped I would.
Years later, I began asking myself a difficult question: Did I overlook someone who could have been right for me?
"Ursula" is a reflection on missed chances, quiet devotion, and the kind of love that asks for nothing but your presence. It's about realizing that the loudest romances aren't always the deepest, and that sometimes the people who change our lives are the ones we barely notice until they're gone. Whether she was truly the one or simply a beautiful "what if" is something I'll never know. But her kindness is a memory I'll always carry with me.
Donna
I wrote "Donna" in memory of someone whose absence I didn't truly understand until it was too late.
We met at a gym where she worked as an instructor. She was warm, easy to talk to, and always made every conversation feel effortless. We'd meet for coffee, share laughs, and enjoy each other's company without expectations or complicated emotions. Looking back, I could tell she wanted to be more than friends. There were moments when she seemed ready to kiss me or say something she never found the courage to express. She never forced her feelings, and I never realized how much they meant.
As life moved on, I started working out closer to home and eventually met someone else. When I told Donna, she simply smiled and said, "Okay, I hope you're happy." At the time, I thought they were just kind words. Years later, I understood how much emotion they carried.
We stayed in touch from time to time, exchanging birthday greetings and catching up whenever we could. Then one day, the messages stopped. I assumed life had simply taken us in different directions. After years of wondering why she never replied, a mutual friend told me she had passed away.
"Donna" is a song about missed chances, unspoken feelings, and the quiet impact someone can leave on your life without ever asking for anything in return. It's a tribute to a beautiful friendship, to the kindness that often goes unnoticed, and to the painful realization that sometimes we don't know the value of a person until all that's left are the memories they leave behind.
“Victoria”
I wrote “Woke Up Cold” about a dream that felt more real than waking life. In it, Victoria isn’t just a person; she’s a presence that lingers between sleep and reality. Her voice, her warmth, the way she says your name; it all feels certain, like something that’s always been there. But dreams don’t ask for permission to leave. Morning comes quietly, and with it, the absence.
What remains isn’t heartbreak, but a question: was Victoria ever real, or just a reflection of something you needed to feel? The song lives in that fragile moment between holding on and letting go, where the memory of her still feels warm; even after you’ve woken up cold.
Dahlia
I wrote "Dahlia" as a metaphor for a place that once held a piece of my heart. It was where my lover and I escaped from the world, protecting a love that had to remain a secret. Over time, that place was demolished, and a new hotel now stands where it once did.
The song is about the nostalgia of returning to a place that no longer exists. Although the walls are gone, the memories remain. Dahlia explores how certain places become part of our love stories, and how losing them can feel like losing a chapter of our own lives.