Yesterday, Virat was brilliant against the Aussies. But so was he against Pakistan a couple days earlier. Against the wily and the crafty pace of Amir and Co. , he had stood like a rock and weathered everything that came his way. At the beginning of this year Down Under, probably everyone had run out of adjectives and superlatives in the effusive praise of this superstar of Indian cricket. Like the little master himself, he relishes the challenge brought on board by the Aussies. From rightly carrying the mantle of India's best batsman and on being the way to the World's best; he has mastered the dying art of orthodox batting and yet delivered with a consistency that would befuddle the purists and the novices alike. But then again, countless paeans and praises have been published as a tribute to the art of batting he portrays on the canvas of the cricket field. Why this, then ? Another of probably 10876 columns written over him? This actually is a loud cry t...