An all-time low score at home, five ducks among the top seven, catches spilled, stumpings fluffed, their premier wicketkeeper hobbling to the dressing room injured, gloom and doom when they batted, sunshine and runs when they bowled; India would feel that the levers of fate were cruelly tilted against them on Thursday. Whatever could have gone wrong went wrong for India; contrarily for New Zealand, whatever could have gone right went right. This was a day of two clear but disproportionate parts. As though it were two different games, unfolding in two distant postcodes, playing out to starkly contrasting beats. But the variance in weather and conditions — how nature pens the day’s script— is part of what makes Test cricket a spectacle. One part lasted 31.2 overs; only 46 runs were eked out. Batsmen could barely locate the ball. When it found wood, it flew off its edges and shoulders. Boundaries were aberrations. Only four arrived. Like a morning sketched in Headingley or Christchurch, the ball rarely traversed a straight route. It curled and …