Dimithri Rajasinghe, better known as Dimi3 among digital enthusiasts, made waves in Sri Lanka and India recently with his song ‘Passa’. Adapted by Indian composer Vijay Antony for the blockbuster movie ‘Romeo’, the track retains Dimithri’s distinctive melody, albeit with Tamil lyrics.
Dimi3’s other better-known hits include ‘Manika’ (Dimi3 and Raini Charuka) and ‘Ru Siri’. With over 10 videos with over one million views each, Dimithri is making his mark in the Sri Lankan music industry.
Sitting down with Youth Observer, I had the privilege of exploring his music and delving into the experiences and perspectives that shape his art.
Raw and unapologetic
Dimitri as a character, has always been raw and unconventional in a country like Sri Lanka that values and celebrates its culture to an extent that also stifles the creativity and innovation of individuals. Dimithri boldly addresses themes like sexuality, desire and intimacy through his music, and he stands unapologetic toward his raw creative expression.
When asked what sparked his interest in music, he didn’t hesitate: “It was love. My first relationship turned out to be the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me. I was head over heels in love with her, to the point of self-destruction. I fell into the deepest depths of depression: level four, to be precise. I started self-harming and even tattooed her name on my hand. It was such a dark period; I couldn’t even perform simple daily tasks.
“Music became my only escape. It was the one thing I could hold onto when everything else felt meaningless. I adored the Backstreet Boys and yearned for Sri Lanka to produce music with a similar vibe.
At the time, artistes such as Iraj, Centigradz, Ranidu, and Sixth Lane were paving the way with a Western touch, and I was captivated by their work.”
Early struggles
Going back in memory lane, he said that he grew up with his grandparents. “My grandmother, though loving in her own way, didn’t understand my passion. I remember her anger when she caught me experimenting with melodies on software. She’d switch off the trip switch in frustration, telling me, ‘Those who do music are beggars.’ Her words hit hard, but I don’t blame her. Society back then was nothing like what it is now.”
Dimithri’s first taste of public performance came in 2006 at an Environmental Day event at a girls’ school. “My friends and I composed a song for the occasion, but it didn’t meet our expectations. Instead, we performed a mashup of Akon’s ‘Don’t Matter’ and ‘Dagakara Hadakara’. But even that turned into a disaster. The curtain began closing halfway through our performance, and the rest of the team stopped playing. There I was, standing alone, singing without music to back me up.
That day, I became a laughingstock. I couldn’t even show my face at tuition classes without people mocking me. Even the girl I liked shunned me in embarrassment. But that moment of humiliation became my turning point.”
Dimithri remembers Irusha Shaminda, one of the friends involved in the performance, who is now a well-known television drama director. He said, “We guys will be able to show who we really are” to all that mocked us on that day. Those words stuck with me.”
Rising above
At just 17, Dimithri created his first music video, ‘Sitha Atharaman Wela’. “It wasn’t professional, just a labour of love. Pasan Liyanage handled the mixing and mastering, and his work received praise. He encouraged me to take lessons from Ranga Dasanayake, where I topped the class and earned a job offer from Ranga himself. At 19, I became Sri Lanka’s youngest sound engineer.”
Despite his early achievements, Dimithri found himself unfulfilled. “Commercial music dominated my early career. I worked tirelessly to meet clients’ needs, but it left me empty. The creativity I craved was missing. I was another cog in the machine, producing what others demanded. By 2015, I realised I needed to create for myself, not for others.
Uploading songs to YouTube was a rude awakening. My first upload garnered only 68 views, and I was heartbroken. But that disappointment taught me a valuable lesson: I wasn’t writing for others but for myself. That realisation led to my breakthrough with ‘Natanna Natanna’, a rap-baila that kick-started my professional journey.”
Dimithri also shared how he became a producer, lyricist, and singer out of necessity. “From the very beginning, my songs were different. Nobody could write lyrics to match my melodies, so I was forced to write them myself. And when nobody would sing what I wrote, I had to sing them too. Society cornered me for writing about what people do behind closed doors.”
Themes that challenge
Dimithri’s music often challenges societal norms. When asked what inspired him to address taboo themes, he responded: “Authenticity became my mantra. I stopped overthinking and began channelling my emotions directly into my music. Over-processing ideas only dilutes their impact. People might find polished work pleasing, but they rarely connect with it.
Raw expression resonates because it’s genuine. Sexuality, desire, intimacy: these are natural energies, yet society shuns them. I don’t see my work as provocative; I see it as truthful. Dance forms like salsa, bachata, and rumba are steeped in sensuality, but they’re accepted as art worldwide. Why should it be any different here? Reproduction is nature’s primary purpose. To reject sexuality is to reject nature itself. My work doesn’t challenge the rules of nature; it flows with them.”
A critique of modern relationships
Dimithri also offered a critical take on relationships and divorce in Sri Lanka. “The divorce rate here is over 40%. If we’re so civilised and evolved, why do people divorce only after finding another partner? Isn’t that also an uncivilized move, except in cases like attaining monkhood? Many love relationships fail because people don’t truly love each other — they only have sexual attraction and sugarcoat it as love.
This lack of authenticity leads to problems. Some people might genuinely love each other, but their sexual energies might not align or harmonise. My argument is simple: be authentic and bring your real self to the people.”
“Early in my career, I struggled with self-doubt,” Dimithri said. “Writing about sexuality felt risky, but over time, I embraced it as part of who I am. Accepting yourself is the greatest form of love.”
Dimithri has also dabbled in religious music, though he feels this side of his work is often overlooked.“I have done religious songs, but people don’t talk about them because they haven’t listened to them. They only focus on the songs where I explicitly talk about sex. But if I were to summarise my philosophy, I’d say the main reason for our existence is reproduction — that’s nature.
I never wanted to challenge the rules of nature; I am simply following its path. Nature itself is sexual energy. Everything in this world, from yin and yang to fruit-bearing and non-fruit-bearing trees, is male and female, all embodying sexual energies. If you point fingers at sexuality, you’re pointing fingers at the natural flow of the universe.”
Creativity vs. logic
Dimithri has learned to separate his creative and logical minds, a distinction that has fueled his artistic expression.
“One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is that creativity thrives on emotion, not calculation. Harvard once conducted a study on intelligence across age groups. Children aged three to five scored the highest because they saw endless possibilities in everything.
That’s the mindset I strive to maintain — seeing a pencil not just as a tool for writing but as a symbol of infinite potential. As we age, we limit ourselves. Adults see a pencil only as a writing tool, but children might try to eat it, break it, or use it in countless imaginative ways. That openness is the essence of creativity.”
Dimithri believes this raw expression is key to artistic success. “When you express your honest emotions, you become an intelligent person. You offer something real and authentic to the world. The end goal of life is to be happy, and you shouldn’t forget that along the way.”
Backlash and connection
When asked about pushback for his unconventional themes, Dimithri is candid.“Of course, I’ve faced backlash. People judge me based on my artistic expression without knowing who I truly am. TV shows hesitate to invite me because they fear my rawness. But that’s their loss.
The audience, however, loves my honesty. My music speaks to emotions they can’t express themselves. It’s like a Hindi movie—full of drama and longing—that we all secretly aspire to live.
We love Hindi movies and want our love stories to mirror them, but we fail to act on those feelings. My music gives voice to those unexpressed desires.”
He acknowledges that even he faced resistance within himself initially. “In my early days, I had self-doubt about writing on themes like sexuality. But I’ve realized that embracing myself is the greatest form of love I can show to myself and the world.”
Lessons from success
Dimithri’s song ‘Passa’ became one of the most popular tracks last year. “I’m so proud of it, even though I never got to see the award because the co-singer seems to be acting as if he is the sole owner of the song,” he says with a smile.
His advice to others is simple yet profound: “Try to be honest with yourself. That’s the hardest thing in life, but it’s also the stepping stone to success.
Whether you’re a singer, painter, dancer, or boxer, when you perform, you’re putting out your artistic expression. That’s the moment when your raw emotion connects with the world.
Our natural and mechanical selves must be in balance for us to express clearly.
Creativity comes from that balance, from being true to yourself. The journey may be challenging, but remember, the end goal of life is to be happy. Never forget that along the way.”
