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A Sardarji comes up to the Pakistan border on his bike. He's got two
large bags over his shoulders. The guard Iqbal stops him and says,
What's in the bags?'
'Sand,' answered the Sardarji. Iqbal says, 'We'll just see about that.
Get off the bike. Iqbal's guards take the bags and rips them apart;
empty them out and find nothing in them but sand. He detains the
Sardarji overnight and has the sand analyzed, only to discover that
there is nothing but pure sand in the bags.
Iqbal releases the Sardarji, puts the sand into new bags, heaves them on
to the Sardarji 's shoulders, and lets him cross the border.
A week later, the same thing happens. Iqbal asks, 'What have you got?
'Sand,' says the Sardarji. Iqbal does his thorough examination and
discovers that the bags contain nothing but sand. He gives the sand back
to the Sardarji, and crosses the border on his bike. This sequence of
events is repeated every day for three years.
Finally, the Sardarji, doesn't show up and one day and the guard meets
him in a 'dhaba' in Islamabad . 'Hey, Buddy,' says Iqbal, 'I know you are
smuggling something. It's driving me crazy. It's all I think about...I
can't sleep. Just between you and me, what are you smuggling?' The
Sardarji, sips his Lassi and says, 'bikes'. . . . . . . . . . . .
Dekha SARDAR bhi smart hote hai
large bags over his shoulders. The guard Iqbal stops him and says,
What's in the bags?'
'Sand,' answered the Sardarji. Iqbal says, 'We'll just see about that.
Get off the bike. Iqbal's guards take the bags and rips them apart;
empty them out and find nothing in them but sand. He detains the
Sardarji overnight and has the sand analyzed, only to discover that
there is nothing but pure sand in the bags.
Iqbal releases the Sardarji, puts the sand into new bags, heaves them on
to the Sardarji 's shoulders, and lets him cross the border.
A week later, the same thing happens. Iqbal asks, 'What have you got?
'Sand,' says the Sardarji. Iqbal does his thorough examination and
discovers that the bags contain nothing but sand. He gives the sand back
to the Sardarji, and crosses the border on his bike. This sequence of
events is repeated every day for three years.
Finally, the Sardarji, doesn't show up and one day and the guard meets
him in a 'dhaba' in Islamabad . 'Hey, Buddy,' says Iqbal, 'I know you are
smuggling something. It's driving me crazy. It's all I think about...I
can't sleep. Just between you and me, what are you smuggling?' The
Sardarji, sips his Lassi and says, 'bikes'. . . . . . . . . . . .
Dekha SARDAR bhi smart hote hai
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