Woman in ethnic attire stuns with Bob Dylan’s ‘Everything is broken’ at Shillong brewery. Internet declares: ‘Stage is her comfort zone’

On a cool July evening in Shillong, often referred to as India’s rock capital, something unexpected happened at a small local brewery tucked between pine trees and winding mountain roads. A woman stepped onto the dimly lit stage wearing a vibrant ethnic dress adorned with traditional Khasi patterns, her long black hair loosely tied back. With little fanfare, she picked up the microphone and announced, “This one’s by Dylan. Everything is broken.”

From the moment she began to sing, the room fell silent.

It wasn’t just her voice, though that alone would have been enough. Smoky, raw, and emotional, it cut through the casual hum of the bar crowd like a warm blade. But it was the combination of presence, style, and intention that truly caught everyone off guard. Singing Bob Dylan’s 1989 blues anthem “Everything is Broken,” she transformed it from a weary lament into a declaration of resilience.

Videos of the performance, recorded by patrons on their phones, quickly surfaced on social media. Within 24 hours, one clip on Instagram had over 500,000 views. By the end of the weekend, the video had gone viral, shared by music pages across the globe with captions like “This woman OWNS the stage” and “Dylan would be proud.”

What stood out wasn’t just the cover, but the context. Shillong has long had a thriving underground music scene, shaped by a deep love for classic rock, folk, and blues. But it’s rare to see traditional Khasi culture intersect so directly with Western rock in such a vivid, unapologetic way.

In the video, her outfit is striking: a richly colored jainsem, the traditional wrap worn by Khasi women, paired with handmade silver jewelry and leather boots. It’s a bold look—roots and rebellion meeting in harmony. And as she sings lines like “Broken bottles, broken plates, broken switches, broken gates,” she doesn’t just recite Dylan’s words; she reclaims them.

The internet reacted instantly. On Twitter, one user wrote: “She didn’t just sing Dylan, she translated him across cultures.” Another posted, “This is what music looks like when it comes from the gut. The stage is clearly her comfort zone.”

Local musicians in Shillong quickly chimed in. “I’ve played with her before,” said Ankit Dey, a guitarist in one of the city’s many indie bands. “She’s been part of the open mic scene here for years. We always knew she had something special, but this… this is next level.”

Music journalist Priyanka Talukdar, who writes for Indian Rolling Stone, tweeted, “There’s an authenticity here that’s rare. In a world full of polished covers, this performance cuts straight to the soul.”

As interest in her performance grew, so did the curiosity about who she is. Her name, it turns out, is Wansuk Rymmai, a 29-year-old teacher by day and vocalist by night. Raised in the hills of Meghalaya, she grew up listening to both Khasi folk music and American legends like Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen, and Joni Mitchell. Her father, a church choir leader, taught her harmony and guitar. Her mother sewed her performance dresses by hand.

When reached for a brief comment, Wansuk remained humble. “I didn’t expect this reaction,” she said. “I sing because it feels honest. That song—‘Everything is Broken’—always spoke to me. There’s something universal in it. We all feel like things are falling apart sometimes, but music helps us hold on.”

She added that she never considered the stage her destination. “I just want to make people feel something. If they felt it, then I’m happy.”

The performance has since sparked a new conversation online—about representation, tradition, and the role of women in indie music spaces. Many applauded her for blending heritage with modernity in a way that felt seamless, not forced.

In Shillong itself, the brewery where she sang—Copper Pine Craftworks—has suddenly become a cultural hotspot. Locals now call it “the place where Dylan came alive in a Khasi voice.” The owners say they plan to launch a monthly acoustic night featuring indigenous artists performing global classics.

Meanwhile, Wansuk has been invited to perform at festivals in Guwahati and Kolkata, and even received a message of interest from a Scandinavian folk-blues label. For now, though, she says she’s staying grounded. “School starts next week. My students are more curious about math than music.”

Still, the impact of that one night lingers. As the video continues to circulate—spreading from Shillong to San Francisco, from Mumbai to Melbourne—it carries with it a reminder: that true artistry doesn’t need lights, labels, or big stages. Sometimes, all it needs is a quiet bar, a borrowed mic, and a woman in a jainsem, standing completely at home under the soft glow of mountain stars.

In the words of one YouTube commenter: “She didn’t just cover Dylan. She reinvented him. And in doing so, she found her own voice.”