Even when it was amidst the music crowd the veteran moved in his native Chennai, unaggressive M.S. Anantharaman looked like someone who perhaps happened to stray into the concert hall on his way to the roadside market to buy ash gourd for the next day’s sambar at home. Much like that modest and cool vegetable, the old man’s inside appeared peaceful and his forehead smeared with vibhuti between the greying hair and stubble.