Frozen India caught in the headlights

When daylight breaks tomorrow, on what would have been the final morning of the Galle Test, the Indian team will wake up in their dramatic Lighthouse Hotel and wonder whether they were involved in a game of cricket or were actually characters in the 1960s Hindi movie Mughal-e-Azam (The Great Mughal). In which hours and days went by like a breeze, full of pomp and grandeur, walking about like royals before they suddenly found themselves buried alive with the dancing girl. End of movie.

Of course, it's highly likely that no one in the playing eleven will know much about the movie and none of this will amuse them. But, along with cornflakes, disorientation will definitely be a key component of their Sunday breakfast. They will know that within a handful of hours, they got sandbagged in Galle. The cricketing order that they wanted to establish was upended. Five bowlers, six batsmen, aggression, responsibility. Words, mere words.

Let's talk about the numbers that will lead to much caterwauling: this was their eighth defeat in the last 15 away Tests. Chasing 176, they lost by 63 runs, only the second time India have lost a Test chasing a sub-200 total. Anywhere. Since 1932. Only the second time Sri Lanka have defended a sub-200 total in their history, anywhere. This is India's lowest-ever total against Sri Lanka, anytime, anywhere. Happy Independence Day. Ouch.

The last 24 hours for India in this Test match basically unraveled what had gone before it. On day three, when faced with Dinesh Chandimal's mind-bending counter-attacking innings, they were unable to tap into the skills available to their bowlers to defend. On day four, even when presented with Chandimal's mind-bending counter-attacking innings as a template, they were unable to attack. Frozen in circumspection about their abilities against spin, trying to bat for time against an opponent in their elements.

The bowlers had not anticipated the destruction of their best-laid plans and were unable to adapt to a distinctly shifting pattern of play. Against Rangana Herath on Saturday, ghoulish reservations of how their inexperienced batsmen would play spin sat heavy on their shoulders. Yet this should have been a familiar sighting for India. It is exactly how they have been winning Test matches at home for many years now. Under a blindingly bright sky, on a beige kind of pitch puffing up dust, surrounded by a ring of vociferous close-in fielders and whirlymen, who float the ball in at varying lines and speeds. This wasn't pace and bounce, or swing and seam. And India had tackled it more than capably on day two.

India's chase towards the target ended up being the sum of all their fears. For about 52 minutes in the morning, Shikhar Dhawan was trapped on his overnight score of 13 despite facing 36 balls. India had crawled forward in the six overs they got against Sri Lanka's medium pacers from both ends, inching ahead by only seven runs, all scoring shots coming from Ishant Sharma (plus two extras). Herath came on in the seventh over of the day and dismantled Ishant. By the time the hour was done, India had moved their scoring rate forward, but had also lost three wickets for 22.

Virat Kohli was ruthless in his dissection of the batting, calling it "tentative" and "a bit nervous" in approach, even saying that his team did not have the "mental strength" to pull themselves together after losing a clump of wickets early on. In the first innings, it must be remembered that, minus the double-century partnership between Kohli and Dhawan, India's top seven batsmen had scored 83. Take away Wriddhiman Saha's 60 and the batting is left with 23 from the other four. All the work before and during the practice game against the Sri Lankan Board President's XI in Colombo - which Dhawan had talked about after his first-innings ton - dissipated under the grind of the Sri Lanka spinners. Only Dhawan and Ajinkya Rahane tried the sweep. Only Rahane, Amit Mishra and, to an extent, R Ashwin tried to use their feet with assertion.

When Kohli was asked to explain what an "aggressive mindset", which he speaks of often, meant to him, he said: "If a bowler is bowling to me and I am thinking if I step out I might get out, if I step out I might get caught at mid-off. Fearless cricket is [when] I am going to step out and hit him over mid-off. It's the clarity of thought that is required in high-pressure situations, that's how you elevate or differentiate yourself from average players or average teams."

Sri Lanka had, in fact, shown India what to do when trailing by more than 100 runs in the first innings with five wickets in hand: "[It was a] classic case of people going out there and being fearless, and our display was a classic case of people going out there and being tentative," Kohli said.

On several occasions in the last few years, India have struggled to get over the line in away Tests, with their bowlers being held responsible for the failures. Even in Galle, the Chandimal counter left their four most experienced bowlers, with a collective first-class experience of almost fifty years, searching for answers. In that department, though, Kohli chose to count his blessings: he had got 20 wickets out of them, and given his batsmen less than 200 to chase. What more could he have asked for?

He said in the face of Chandimal's attack, and Jehan Mubarak and Lahiru Thirimanne's swashbuckling alliances, "there is only so much you can do." The series has only begun, with Sri Lanka's batsmen having learnt what a little muscle against India's bowling can do. As much as he loves them, Kohli should demand some plan B options from his bowlers.

While cricket, as Kohli said, is indeed a game of pressure, it is also a game of degrees. Of recognising where the momentum may be shifting or has shifted, of knowing when to step in and deal the final blow. Or when to call in the spirit of Muhammad Ali and try some rope-a-dope for a little while. India got their responses mixed up. The bowlers let their grip over the game go through those unrecognised degrees and the batsmen melted under pressure. Never mind Mughal-e-Azam, the Galle Test has left India holding onto what Sri Lankans call a Devilled Potato. Obviously, it's quite hot.