The now retired Anil Kumble was, in an Indian (and probably a world) context, a great bowler and, just as importantly, perhaps the most mentally-tough Indian player of his generation (although Dravid in his pomp and of course SRT would have something to say about that).
He never seemed to have too much in his armoury at first glance (just ask Keith Fletcher), but to watch him bowl a long spell, especially in Indian conditions with smog and spices in the air and the sun on his back, was to be educated in the art of the spin bowler as water-torturer. Accuracy, repetition, variation, aggression and intensity combined with enough spin as was necessary to ensure that few batsmen were ever completely comfortable against him, whatever they thought. Which was part of his greatness, because, if anyone ever started to think they had him, he would have them.
And now, with Kumble gone, Ganguly on the verge of going, and the bell tolling for Dravid (if not Tendulkar), India are suddenly in the midst of the generational shift which they've been on the verge of for what seems like years. And all at a time when they're looking like the type of united, determined side which can put away an Australian team that still has plenty to offer.
They'll come again. But the catching does need some work.