In a way, he could have been Bertie Wooster's Aunt Agatha, widely suspected of eating broken bottles and turning into a werewolf at the time of full moon.
Discerning eyes will seldom miss the semblance of Conan the Barbarian.
But years – no, actually hours – of research, into history and his story, led Doosra to this mindboggling piece of jaw-dropper.
Hear it here first. Sehwag was Attila the Hun in his previous birth!
Picture them together and you have two identical thickset men, topped by a sizeable dome.
History books -- rather dicey source of unverifiable gossips about loonies who have decomposed long ago and hence not in a position to expose the fraudsters who spread the canard – suggest unlike his peers, Attila fussed about triumph.
He insisted it be soaked in blood and made to look as gory as possible.
In fact I’d hazard that if you could frisk him and lived to tell the tale, you’d have invariably retrieved from his pocket a chit with the existing blood-shedding record written across it.
Now closely watch Attila in his reincarnation.
Others merely bat but where Sehwag differs is in his penchant to make the bowlers bleed. Sixes and fours that is. After all, Sehwag inhabits an allegedly civil society infested by suspected human rights groups!
Returning to the rail, Attila perpetrated Vandalism. Sehwag practises Virenderism.
Attila chest-thumped – his modesty clearly nothing to write home about – "Where my hordes has trodden, no grass grows."
And note how the same vegetation-scorching streak finds ample manifestation in Sehwag’s ground-strokemaking!
The Romans, their manicured tails neatly tucked between their dainty legs, considered Attila a devil.
Sehwag, on his part, is an unabashed and rather a contracted Daredevil, Delhi Daredevil to be precise.
Lack of access to the willow Sehwag wields does handicap any honest effort to establish a link between the Sword of Attila and the Blade of Virender.
But as far as savagery is concerned, it would only suffice to say that both have really raised the bar.