A Sardar, a Japanese, and a Britisher were shipwrecked on a deserted island. One day they came upon an old lamp buried in the sand. As they brushed the sand from the lamp a Genie appeared and said 'I'll give each of you one wish.'

All three were very happy!

The japanese said 'I wish I was home!' PUFF and he was gone!

The britisher said 'I wish I was home!' PUFF and he too was gone.

The sardar said 'Boy is it lonely here! I wish my friends were here!'

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Truck Driver

A cheerful sardarji truck driver pulled up at a roadside dhaba in the middle of the night for a dinner stop.

Halfway through his meal, three wild-looking young men on motorcycles roared up - rich looking kids driving up from nearby Delhi.

For no reason at all, they selected the truck driver as a target. One poured pepper over his head, another stole his tandoori chicken, the third deliberately tipped his tea over.

The sardarji never said one word, just stood up, paid his bill, and left.

'Saala, that sardarji wasn't much of a fighter,' sneered one of the young goons to the owner of the dhaba. The dhaba owner, peering out into the night, added, 'He doesn't seem to be much of a truck driver, either. He just ran his truck right over three motorcycles.'

Smile on the face

Three smiling corpses are lying in a morgue in Punjab, and a detective goes into the coroner's to find the causes of death.

The coroner points to the first dead man. 'This is man was a lucky guy,' he says. 'He died of shock after winning 20 lakhs in a lottery.'

He then moves on to the second smiling corpse. 'This was a good man,' the coroner says with a grin. 'He died while doing 'it' with his wife.'

Finally he moves on to the last smiling corpse. 'This is Santa Singh,' says the coroner. 'He died after being struck by lightning.'

'Well,' asks the detective, 'Why in hell was the fool smiling?'

'Oh,' says the coroner. 'He thought he was having his picture taken!'


Santa Singh, who has a bad memory, goes for a job interview in an office. The interviewer starts with the basics. 'So, can you tell us your age, please?'

Santa counts carefully on his fingers for half a minute before replying. 'Um ... 28.'

The interviewer tries another straightforward one to break the ice. 'And can you tell us your height, please?'

The man stands up and produces a measuring tape from his handbag. He then traps one end under his foot and extends the tape to the top of his head. He checks the measurement and announces, 'Five foot four!'

This isn't looking good so the interviewer goes for the real basics; something that he won't have to count, measure, or lookup. 'Just to confirm for our records, your name please?'

Santa Singh bobs his head from side to side for about fifteen seconds, mouthing something silently to himself, before replying, 'Santa Singh!'

The interviewer is completely baffled at this stage, so he asks, 'What were you doing when I asked you your name?'

'Oh, that!' replies Santa,' I was just running through that song, 'Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear...''

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