I heard the violin from a distance, and the violinist was a middle aged man in an old and torn over coat walking across the marine drive, kochi. He was playing melodious Hindi (India's national language) and Malayalam (the local language) hits. His enthusiasm and the glow in his eyes were radiant, which kindled the child in me, resulting in that spontaneous 'Hello' from me. He paused, and reciprocated my greeting, and started asking me about my camera and photography in very fluent English (a foreign language spoken by the British). Amidst the mild smell of alcohol emanating from him, I enquired about him. He was an aircraft engineer with a leading airline. He has two beautiful daughters settled at Bangalore. He got separated from his family for personal reasons, and fate made him a street singer. Life is strange indeed. It takes unexpected turns during it's course. He played a couple of songs for me, and posed for these photographs. After that I have never met him at the Marine drive again. Where are you friend?...Everyone has a story behind them...some sharable, and many unsharable...but definitely there is a story behind every one.