I just got threatened!

Date:29 jun 2010

Time:Around 16:30

A big fat guy comes to our apartment with four other guys and starts banging the door.

I ask him what he wants.He shouts that he wants to come in.

I ask him why.

He says he wants to show the apartment to a client of his.

I refuse.

He starts hollering obscenities and threatens to 'beat me like a dog ' at night if I don't open the door.

I tell him that I will open the door only if the owner is present.

He says that he is the owner of the apartment. 

I am amused now.I tell him that since he is the owner he should open the door with his key.

He just starts banging the door louder.

My room mate decides not to come out of his locked room the entire time.Later he tells me that he didn't come because he hadn't heard anything.Somehow I don't believe him.

On of the 5 guys starts begging me to open the door.

I still refuse.

They all scurry away for a few minutes. 

I make noodles and shave my 2 day old beard.

My shaving is rudely interrupted by more loud banging of the door.

The big fat guy starts yelling "Abbey maderchod, raat ko nikal, tujhe kutte ke tarah maroonga"

Somehow I find all this amusing.

The owner is still nowhere to be seen, even though the fat guy is hurling obscenities and threatening physical violence.I found that unnerving.

Finally a guy speaks in english.

He says that he just wants to look at the house because he is buying the house on the third floor.

He seems to be a decent guy.

I tell him that I'll let them in only if they send the big fat guy down and far away.

I figured that they wouldn't have come to steal from us knowing that the guy openly threatened me in front of everybody.

So I open the door and they come in and I tell them to keep their shoes outside and come in.They obey my request politely and come in, and the guy who spoke in english warns me not to fall in between these guys because they are dangerous.

They look around the house for a minute or so and leave.

My room mate still does not emerge out.

I'm still cooling when I finally notice my room mate emerge out.He asks me what happened.I tell him the entire story.He appears shocked.He suggests that we go to the police.

I say that first we talk to the owner, because I sense something fishy.

I see the owner from my first floor window.I call him and briefly explain the events.He says that he will look into it, but he is not too enthusiastic.

I feel uneasy at the owners reaction, and after a few minutes I call my room mate to say that I'm going down to talk with the owner in private.I also told him that he didn't have to come if he didn't want.he said that he would come.

We went down and then we find out...the big fat guy is the owner's nephew...

No wonder!

He promised us that he would be taken care of.

I told him that I would have to report to the police if he even came near me the next time.

That's all

Paul Really Is Dead: Conspiracy of the Millenium!

http://digilander.libero.it/jamespaul/fc1.html
Not really

The Doom of Macho Men

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/science/science-news/6270786/The-pill-gives-women-a-taste-for-boyish-men-like-Zac-Efron.html

Housework cuts breast cancer risk

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/6214655.stm
Uh oh!

One reason why humans are special and unique

http://www.scientificamerican.com/blog/post.cfm?id=one-reason-why-humans-are-special-a-2010-06-22

I'm not here yet

Everyday I walk into the world with a profound lack of confidence in myself.

The quintessential question being 'Am I Good Enough?'.

Am I good enough for today?

Am I good enough for my job?

Am I good enough for all the people I'll meet?

Am I good enough for my past, 

for the life that I live now, 

or my destiny that awaits me?

Am I good enough for this world?

I must confess,I am a man of many faces, 

of many masks.

These different faces of mine, the masks that I hide behind are not fake, but only reflect all my possibilities...some good, some bad, some in between.

Everyday I put on a grand show for the world and for myself...the actor in me plays his part-the silent warrior,cocksure,supremely confident, unharnessed intelligence...and these roles come easily, almost unrehearsed-for the actor in me has been playing the same role for years.

But I fear...

I'm constantly paralysed with fear that one day all my faces will be gone and all my masks will be stripped away and I will have nothing to hide behind but my core self...and that this core self will be judged and found lacking in all respects, that my core self will be outed as being not good enough.

Maybe that's the only reason that I hesitate to open myself to anyone else, instead longing for loneliness and the safety of solitude.

I remember a life of solitude, lived a few years ago...where I convinced myself that I was happy, and justified it with meaningless structured routines and a hollow day to day existence.Bits and pieces of that former life came floating by as I was zipping across the night sky with the silhouettes of trees and skyscrapers passed by me.I saw you lift your arm and wave as your face lit up with the sense familiarity that I must have evoked.I saw your face drop as I passed without even a hint of slowing down.

I saw you.

I just didn't want to stop for you...

I promised myself a different life when I realised that my past happiness was nothing but a lie...but the dangerous path of self examination might tell me that even this happiness that I possess so tenuously might be nothing but a mirage.

Then is this what is holding me back, not letting me go completely, not letting me surrender to the will of something far more superior...because of the belief that this is not where I'm supposed to be? 

Life is elsewhere...or it seems like that.

These days there is more of a void in me than myself...and the lacuna keeps growing, sucking my essence into it and into nothingness-leaving behind husk, a functioning shell of my former self.

If you miss me while I'm with you, its not your fault.

I have to tell you this because its not your fault that you miss me...for I'm not here yet.

I keep holding onto the belief that life is elsewhere...and a part of me is out there, roaming the great unexplored else-where's searching for what it can never find.

I'm not here yet, because another part of me is still stuck in the past hoping that the good old days were where life is(or was).

I'm not here yet...parts of me are just as lost as what you see in front you.

I'm not here yet...but if you care to wait, it might give me the strength to return to myself.

The End of Men

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2010/07/the-end-of-men/8135