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 guard takes 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 Sardar ji, doesn't show up and one day and the guard meet 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'. . . . . . . . . . . .

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