The embers began to settle. I stood there for hours watching the flame reduce the dacoit and the wood into a pile of ashes and light. The smoke from the fire burnt my eyes into a teary mess. The ashes clouded the air with a smoky-musty scent and the light from the fire etched itself in red on the inside of my eyelids, revealing itself with every blink.

Luck can change person's future in such odd ways. Probably, any of us would end up like him if we were to be subjected to the same circumstances. I was left with no energy: neither physical nor mental and decided to walk away. At present, my destination did not matter. I just wanted to get away from these depressing thoughts.

The key was my key to solitude. I used it once again, tore through space and walked into the unknown.

When the luminance subsided I saw my own bed, my own room, my own ordinary life. Standing for hours besides the pyre I was sweaty, smelly and there was a black film of carbon adhered to my oily face. A cold shower cleansed my body and washed away my depression concurrently. Fresh clothes made me cosy and within no time I was asleep on my bed.

The next morning, I woke up with new vigour. I have a certain sense of pride in my ability to forget, refresh and start anew. I had a day to explore further before I got back to work. A few chores that I had ignored took up most of my daylight. Come evening time, I began to think about my freshly learnt abilities.

Firstly: being able to spontaneously reduce anything to ashes, just by writing some characters.

Secondly: being guided to places where some sort of trouble is brewing.

Finally: being able to teleport from one place to another at random.

The darkness brought along with it curiosity. I had time to try out the third ability of teleportation as I had deduced there would be some pattern to it rather than being transported to a random location. The first time I tried to teleport I reached a place I had been to before and the second time I reached a place where I wanted to go.

Trying the second one seemed like the safest option as I would not reach any unknown location. I wore warm clothes, carried my cell phone and some money and went up to my terrace. A cold breeze enveloped my skin raising goose bumps as I rubbed my palms for warmth.

My terrace was empty at the moment and presented a good opportunity to try the teleportation out. On hearing distant footsteps echoing along the staircase leading to the terrace I decided to hurry before someone came and ended my attempt. Hastily I grabbed the cold key and removed it out of the chain on my neck. I stabbed the space ahead of me as I had seen her doing and enunciated, "dwara udghataya."

The space split apart wrinkling the world around it and I walked into the light. The brightness subsided and I was standing in my room enjoying the warmth and lack of wind. Before I stepped inside I had thought of going back to my warm and cosy room. My doubts about being able to choose where to teleport came true.

Now it was time for my next experiment. Trying to find a pattern in the random locations where I get teleported if I do not think of a place. So I had to prepare a bit for this by keeping my debit card, wallet and mobile handy as I had no idea where I would end up. The next bit of preparation was the most essential.

Unlike my acne scarred skin, I had to clear my head completely. No thoughts whatsoever could be allowed to contaminate my mind at this point. So I relaxed my muscles and joints. Then I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. I felt every breath of cold air coursing through my nose and felt every breath of warm moist air flowing out. All the inputs from my other senses faded and I was ready.

While I continued to focus my attention on my breathing I held the key in my hand slackly and raised my hands. Rather than a swift penetrating motion, I just held my hands extended. Softly I muttered, 'dwara udghataya'. The space in front on my face tore open and the bright lights filtered red through the blood in my eyelids. I walked forward, albeit with a slight hesitation.

I opened my eyes to see myself in front of another temple. One which I had never been to. At the time there must have been at least 200 people there. They all stood there clapping in synchronicity to the sounds on the cymbals and dhol. It was the time of the evening aarti. The asphalt on the street moist with eventide dew glistened gold under the yellow street lamps. The sounds of the devotees chanting, entranced me in its rhythm as I stood there enjoying the auditory Fiesta. The stalls lining the street corners selling garlands and other offerings perfumed the zephyr with the marigold and hibiscus flowers.

I asked one of the devotees standing next to me while he was singing joyously, "What place is this?"

He continued to sing and answered in tune, "Ayeeoo vitthale... 'it's mumbadevi' ....maauli aye."

I remember reading that Mumbadevi is the oldest temple in Mumbai and is the patron Goddess of Mumbai. The name of the city is also derived from her name 'Mumbadevi'.

The pin/key which I had placed in the locket clasThe pin/key which I had placed in the locket clasp mildly twitched. A few moments later I felt a stronger twitch.

Just then a person pushed me aside and continued pushing his way into the crowd. Sensing something to be amiss I took out the key and suspended it on the chain. It pointed straight towards the crowd roughly in the same direction as the person who just pushed me aside.

Before I could react, I could hear people screaming. A wave of panic spread across the sea of devotees as they began to rush away from the temple. The stampede that ensued tossed me around like a leaf in a hurricane. I was dragged along with the crowd for about 20 feet after which I found firm footing. Vaguely, I heard some people shouting, "- run-- bomb!"

I peered into the direction of the temple and saw what I was secretly dreading. A person about 5'3' medium built wearing two sashes of what looked like dynamite sticks like an 'x' across his shoulders. He held a crudely made plastic stick with a big red momentary switch in his hands, the other end of the stick has a wire going from his switch to the dynamite.

He was holding onto a bawling infant by its feet as a hostage. Slowly he was walking backward into the temple compound which still had 50 or more people in it. All who were unable to escape in the confusion. This was soon going to turn into a grim hostage situation. While the rest of the crowd scurried past me, bumping into me multiple times, I wondered whose baby he had in his hands. He bore a spiteful look on his face, as if he did not care about his own safety.

As much as I wanted to intervene, there was nothing I could do in such a situation. The best case would have been to let police to do their job. These two sashes of dynamite had about 15 sticks each. It would generate an explosion which would blow everything in its vicinity, including me.

So I began to get away from that place at the earliest and wait for the police to arrive. As I was turning away to run, I saw a lady running towards the bomber. I wondered who in the right state of mind would run towards such a dangerous situation.

She wailed loudly, "My baby!" as tears ran down her fear stricken face.

Looking at her run towards him, the bomber's expression changed from an angry to a panicked one. A mother's love, while being the strongest and purest is also in such times the most reckless and irrational. My fears came true as I saw the expression of panic on the bombers face.

He held the hand with the detonator outstretched ahead of him and shouted, "Not one step further, or I will blow everything up."

The poor lady in that adrenaline rich state of mind paid no heed to his threats. As the thumb of his trembling hands began to inch towards the detonator, I decided I had to stop him.

The only problem was that I was many yards away from him and there just was no time for me to do anything. It was then that I realised what to do. I reached for the key on my neck. The bomber closed his eyes shut and pressed the button on the detonator. Nothing happened. He opened his eyes and pushed the buttons a few more times but again, nothing happened. On seeing the baby's mother juggernaut her way towards him, he got engulfed with fear and took a long step backwards.

He tripped on his own feet and fell backwards, knocking his head on a brick that conveniently happened to be in the right spot at the right time. He dropped both the detonator and the baby and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The baby, tightly wrapped in a cloth rolled away with minor scratches. The mother picked the baby up from the floor and ran like the wind. The people who were watching from the temple compound rushed outside and caught the unconscious bomber. They took the dynamite and detonator away from him as he regained consciousness only to be beaten to a pulp by the onlookers. The police reached seconds later, as usual a second too late and dispersed the crowd and apprehended the bomber. They made him sit inside their jeep, handcuffed.

I walked away with satisfaction in my heart and a smile on my face.