Have you ever been forced to walk to a washroom to vent out your laughter? Today while having lunch with Jeet at a restaurant in Delhi, she had to rush to the washroom because she had tough time controlling her laughter. It so happened that a gentleman came and sat on the next table. He had grey hair and beard flowing free up to his waist and chest level respectively in the style of some great philosopher or artist. His complexion was extra fair. I asked Jeet to make a guess that what nationality he could belong. She started making guesses and named quite a few, like European, Russian, Irani or an Afghan. But i had a hunch that he was non of those. I proved right when i saw the back of his hand while he was scanning the menu card. It had a tattoo of 'IKK ONKAR'. He was a sardarjee (a sikh gentleman) who must have come out on a holiday after having a good shampoo and wanted to dry his long hair before tying them up. When i signaled that silently to Jeet, she had no option but to rush to the washroom as her laughter threshold is very low.