An Unexpected Encounter with Enchantment

It was a stormy evening, the kind where thunder rolls in like a drumbeat and rain pelts down in torrents. While navigating through the downpour, I received a sudden call from a friend in distress. Three musicians from India were arriving in town that night, and he urgently needed help finding accommodation for them. Despite the last-minute nature of the request and without knowing who they were I agreed.

They arrived close to midnight. Two men and a woman stepped out of the vehicle, the latter wrapped in a vibrant yellow saree. She greeted me with a gentle, wordless smile that lingered longer than expected, serene yet enigmatic.

There was something quietly powerful about her presence. Later, after settling them in, one of the others mentioned that she preferred sleeping on the floor instead of the bed. It was a curious detail, but I didn’t question it.

The next morning, as the trio prepared for their performance at the Temple of Fine Arts, she asked if she could use the master bedroom’s bathroom. Time passed. Curious about the delay, I went upstairs—and paused in the doorway.

There she was, alone in the room, immersed in her own world, playing the violin. The space felt transformed. Her music filled every corner with a haunting, sacred beauty. I stood there, mesmerized. It was as if the rain had followed her inside and been turned into melody. That evening, at the Temple of Fine Arts, I finally learned her name: KanyaKumari. One of India’s foremost Carnatic violinists. I was stunned.

I had unknowingly hosted a living legend, someone whose artistry transcended explanation. Sometimes, life hands you the unexpected quiet moments wrapped in mystery and grace.

And sometimes, the impact of those moments lingers far beyond their passing.