"Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive," wrote Sir Walter Scott two centuries ago. For the past decade, Muttiah Muralitharan has made a living from the art of deception. This afternoon, at the Sinhalese Sports Club, the Indians gravitated towards the web he had spun with the same kind of enthusiasm that lemmings show for the edges of cliffs. At lunch, India were on course for a potentially matchwinning score with the openers still together and largely untroubled. Something in the curry and rice must have left them yearning for the comforts of the pavilion. This is an Indian team that does nothing by halves. When they're good, they can match the best and when they're bad, they're awful.

Murali bowled a magnificent spell in the afternoon, tormenting the batsmen with his flight and dip and also the sharp turn that he was able to extract. Having said that, the Indians came up with some shockingly casual batting. Shiv Sunder Das started it with a head-in-the clouds charge that should haunt him for weeks. Ramesh, like a recovering addict whose resistance is paper-thin, perished going for the ambitious drive that Murali had been tempting him to play all morning. Later in the innings, Hemang Badani did an encore and you couldn't help but think what an unequal contest it was - Grandmaster Murali against absolute novices.

Sourav Ganguly was the victim of a brave or bizarre decision from umpire Orchard. He was so far down the track that even a ballistics expert would have struggled to make a decision. Orchard did, and the disbelieving Ganguly trudged off. Rahul Dravid deflected one straight to leg gully, and Sameer Dighe was outfoxed in embarrassing fashion. Zaheer Khan and Sairaj Bahutule were easily moveable objects up against an irresistible force and Murali ended the innings with figures of 8 for 87.

After starting in pole position, the Indian car blew its engine in spectacular style. Jackie Stewart once advised aspiring drivers to imagine they had an eggshell under the accelerator pedal. To win races, you frequently need to nail down the pedal to the floor, but the transition of power has to be smooth. Any jerky movements and you're left with a broken eggshell and, most likely, broken dreams. After the smoothest of starts, Ganguly's men broke enough shells for a gigantic omelette.

Indian batsmen usually play Murali better than most but today they played right into his hands. He left the field with a spring in his step and a Cheshire-cat grin on his face. Who could blame him?

Dileep Premachandran is assistant editor of Wisden.com in India.

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