the great Khan and the man from the plains

The great Khan, in his village above the clouds, high up in the mountains, unknown to the people in the plains, was content with his life and usually did not like to talk to the people 'down below', as he would refer to them. But, whenever it was required that he would have to visit his friends and family down in the plains, he would make the journey, with trepidation and fear of having to indulge in conversation with 'idiots and fools of the plains'. He would gather his hill people and bring them together in one of the caravan serai on the highways, and everyone would pull up their hookahs and get them charged and sit down in comfort. 

The talk and discussion would be usually about the hills, about their villages above the clouds, and their numerous wives, children, horses, donkeys and dogs and weapons, not necessarily in that order. The hill people who had moved down to the plains found it difficult to maintain and manage a house with many wives and children. Rarely could they afford to keep horses. So, they would have a number of questions to seek advice from the great Khan, and he would indulge in banter with them and give advice that at times sounded sensible, and at other times would be downright ridiculous. 

The people in the plains, especially, the police inspector from the nearby police station, hated these hookah gupshups of the great Khan, because normally after such a gathering, the Khans of the high hills would come out shooting their guns or looking for a fight with defenceless locals. A new police inspector, who hailed from a Punjabi Zamindars family, thought of himself to be superior to these illiterate Khans of the high hills and barged in to the hookah gupshup gathering. He sat for awhile in a corner to listen to the discussion and found the great Khan indulging in speaking with ridicule and ill-meaning of the people from the plains. 

Not willing to accept such language in front of his constables, some of them from the hills, the Punjabi inspector rushed in, closer to the gathering of the Pathans, and spoke loudly and arrogantly to the great Khan - thus, "Oye Khan, stop your nonsense talk, and speak some sense. What you say of the people from the plains is just old mans stories and not true. These idiots from the hills may listen to you without argument, but I would not. They respect you and obey you, but they do not. They only fear you. I will not respect you or obey you. I do not care for your stories. Let me see how you can make me obey you."

The great Khan was tired, and did not wish to indulge in an argument with this 'buffoon from the plains further down south', as he called them. But, he could not send him away without accepting his challenge. So, very politely, keeping his hookah aside, he replied, "O Inspector Saheb, my apologies. I am an old man. I cannot hear so very clearly. Pray, forgive me and come over and sit alongside with me, so that we can talk better."

The Punjabi Zamindar's son was very triumphant that he had cowed down the foolish old Pathan from the hills, and pushed through the group of hill people and came up to the great Khan and looked for a place to sit. He was quite fat and bulky, and wondered as to how he could squeeze into the spaces between the Pathans. The great Khan asked for one of the Pathans on his right to make space and said, "Saheb, you can sit here, to my right, and make yourself comfortable." And, the Police Inspector struggled to push in between the great Khan and his father-in-law who sat next to him on the right. It was a great effort and he managed to get breathless and sat there, with much difficulty. Just as he had settled in, and reached for a hookah, the father-in-law of the great Khan started coughing ceaselessly. 

Apologetically, the great Khan asked his young son, Polo Khan, to make space on his left, and said, "O Inspector Saheb, forgive my foolish old father-in-law. He is unwell. He suffers from a very bad throat. Please come over here to my left side, and settle in with my young son." And thus, the fat and bulky police inspector, struggled once again to lift himself up, and became terribly breathless once again, and moved to the left of the great Khan and was quite down with fatigue by the time he could sit himself down on the cushions. He kept panting and gulping for air, and looked around for a hookah. 

And then, the great Khan said, "Oye bewkoof (= idiot), do you see what you are doing now? You are obeying me without question and without argument. This is the power of the old men from the villages in the hills above the clouds. Now sit there, quietly, and listen to us without any argument."

the great Khan and his favourite son, Polo Khan

As we all know, the great Khan has 18 sons, and the youngest of them was Tiny Khan. His elder five sons were married and were already grandfathers with their own families. The next five sons were also married and had their children and wives and all that. The 11th to 18th sons were not married and lived in the same house as the great Khan and his wives. It was a big house, probably. 

The 11th son was born on the day that the great Khan saw a polo game being played in the army regiment's cantonment in the plains below his secret village in the high mountains. So, he had named the 11th son as Polo Khan. Everyone loved him, and the school teachers had nicknamed him "Bolo Polo, Polo Bolo", with "Bolo" being the local word for "Speak"... so, it went through the day, "Speak Polo, Polo Speak"... in the school, and Polo Khan got tired of it and so, he left school and came back to the village and told the great Khan that he was not going back to school. So, that was that. 

I doubt if the great Khan had even heard him properly, and he had not understood it entirely. He probably had thought that Polo Khan had completed his education and therefore, was not going back to school. Polo Khan's mother, a Kazhaki-Pashtun from Karakal, who had been kidnapped by the great Khan during his wanderabouts along the Karakoram great road, was more concerned about her son. She knew that he was not intelligent and was as impatient and impulsive as his father was. The story of her kidnapping can be retold when the great Khan agrees that it can be retold.

The great Khan did not remember her name, but usually called her out by his own concocted nickname for her, and called her, "Kafir Begum", which of course, had nothing to do with 'sugar' (= cheeni), but to do with the Karakal location (= Tibet). 'Kafir' she was not, and was very orthodox and conservative, and she had got to love the great Khan enormously and was totally happy that she had been kidnapped by him. It was like a great service to her parents, for they were too poor to have got her married with the expenses that they would have had to incur, if they were to marry her to the local village-headman's brother, who was about 25 years elder to her.

That was all a long long time ago, in a far far far away land, and Polo Khan's mother, Kafir Begum, had forgotten all about it. Her main worry nowadays was to search for a girl for Polo Khan, and she kept pestering the great Khan about it. The great Khan was already being pestered by his other wives, and if he would sit and wait it out at the house, he could hear several other such arguments between his son's wives and other women on the street. They seemed to have nothing else to do but gather around and argue until the sun went down. Why could they not be like the men, who sat quietly under some shade, with their hookahs and chillums, and smoked silently, even if they sat in a group of more than 20 to 30 relatives and friends. 

The great Khan had got away to his favourite hiding place, under the Chinar tree, away from the house, away from the village, and was at his hideout, sitting quietly and peacefully, with his chillum and he had taken his 3-4 first puffs that set everything the right way, when he would do it the right way, in the morning. Nothing could go wrong with the day after that. 

Just when he thought he had achieved peace, along the path came Polo Khan and his mother. The Kafir lady was riding the donkey and Polo Khan was guiding it along the path. Now, if only Polo Khan could just push the donkey and the lady down the high mountain slope, down the ravines, .... if only... thought the great Khan. That would really make this day quite splendid.

Polo Khan's mother took up on her earlier arguments and pleading, and kept asking the great Khan to go and hunt in the villages elsewhere and get a bride for Polo Khan. The young boy would get old suddenly and then he would have to search among the women who had not got married in the region. So, she said, the old man would have to get out from under the Chinar tree and go and get a bride for Polo Khan. 

The great Khan was indeed quite fond of Polo Khan, because he was the only son who he remembered because of the Polo game. All the other sons were named by their general anatomy and height and girth, and their names changed over the years. It was only Polo Khan, who had never had a different nickname and who was always recognised by the great Khan by his own name. So, the old man did not want that his favourite son would have to suffer in life by getting married so early, and probably getting married to the wrong woman. 

The great Khan asked his son, "Oye Pahado-da-raaja (= king of the mountains), your mother is insisting that you have to get married. She wants me to go to the plains and search for a bride for you. I am getting old, and I do not have the strength to go and search for you. But, have you not thought of someone we could get you married to? If you know of someone we could talk to, let us know. I will immediately get the marriage organised."

The young man replied, "O great Khan Saheb, thank you for allowing me to have my word in this wedding. The way my mother keeps insisting with me, I am worried that she is planning her own wedding. I have indeed thought of three women I could get married to. Two of them are on these high mountains, and the third one is in the plains. I know you will not allow me to marry one from the plains, but the two from the high mountains are possibly good for getting married to."

Polo Khan's mother interrupted, "That is good news. Why did you not tell me? I would have gone already to the house and got the wedding organised. I do not mind anyone you would choose. But, I only want to say one thing, and that is, that you should get me a woman who is just like me, talks like me, and is from my native areas, or knows my native tongue. You will be gone away from the house like your father, and I have to live with your wife, not you."

The great Khan panicked, almost choked on his chillum, and spoke rapidly, "Oye Polo bachche (= young lad), that may be ok with your mother, for she would get one who would be entirely like her. But be careful my boy, I do not want to keep imagining that your future would also be the same as mine after having kidnapped this Kafir Begum of mine. Unless you want to get married to a woman who behaves like your mother does, and I have to welcome a young woman to the house, who will definitely remind me, everyday, of why I have to drug that poor donkey, so that the next time, she rides this poor animal, and goes into the fog in the high mountains on the narrow trails, we would not have to worry about our miseries any more."

Polo Khan was unfazed, and replied, "O great Khan Saheb, I know what you say, and I am that much more wiser. For I have chosen a woman who is the daughter of a woman who has been gossiping with my mother and your other wives and the wives of my brothers over many years on the street in our village. She is sure to know all the stories and tales, true or otherwise, and will probably know how to handle all miserable situations. Only yesterday, her father was telling me on behalf of her, that she has begun to read and learn about medicines, poisons and other concoctions."

The great Khan was happy. He knew that he was not wrong in his favourite son, Polo Khan. The young man would definitely end up being happily married and will live happily for many many years.

the great Khan meets his father-in-law

Once, while the great Khan was sitting at his favourite spot, under the Chinar tree, smoking and puffing on his chillum, in his secret village in the high mountains, he saw his crazy father-in-law walking by, dragging the old donkey, along the narrow scrub path. The donkey was carrying a load of digging equipment and the crazy father-in-law looked all injured, with lots of scratches and blood-lined scars on his arms and face. Alarmed, the great Khan asked, "Oye you foolish old man from the plains, what is the matter? Why are you full of scratches and why is there blood all over you? Did you have a fight with your neighbours? or, did you go to try and get married to a new bride? Are you not satisfied with three wives already?"

The father-in-law of the great Khan was tired, and did not want to waste more time talking to his son-in-law. He knew that the great Khan would have the last word, and moreover he would keep talking about it to everyone in the secret village in the high mountains. He replied, "O great Khan, it was not anything like that. I am just now returning from burying my second wife. I am too tired, and please do not harass me now. I am supposed to be in mourning."

Shocked, the great Khan murmured in apology, "Oye old man, I am sorry. When did your second wife die? I had not heard about it. I would have also attended the burial. Why are you returning alone? And why did you come all this way, higher up in the high mountains to bury her, when you all live in the miserable hot and humid plains?"

The father-in-law of the great Khan murmured, "Not at all. I would have invited you all for the burial, but it was not meant to be. Alas. We were coming to visit her daughter in the nearby village, like your wife is the daughter of my first wife. This second wife of mine, a miserable demon, more like a Berber nomad than a Kazakhi, that I was told she was, before we got married. I was fooled. She kept on scolding me, and criticizing me, and screaming at the donkey, the poor thing, all the way from the plains to these high mountains."

The great Khan was curious now, and asked, "O, so did the donkey throw her on these high path, then? and, did you go to rescue her from the slopes and rocks? and is that how you got all this blood and scratches?"

The father-in-law replied, "No, no no no... not at all... I could not bear the screaming and the scolding. The donkey was quite ok with it all, the poor animal. But I could not tolerate the loud voice. That's why I have all the scratches and blood. She simply refused to get buried. But somehow, I managed. What to do. Now, I have no one to talk to on the way back to the plains. Only the donkey. It will do."

the great Khan learns about meditation

The great Khan was usually worried about meeting with his wife's brother and tried to avoid any possibilities. The wife's brother seemed to think of himself as someone blessed with the ability to always give the correct advice and therefore would always impose upon others with unending advice. 

Once, in the village of the great Khan, high up in the secret mountains, at the place where three great nations met, away from the Karakoram highway, the old man sat, smoking his chillum, happy and peaceful with the rest of the world, because he could not see any part of the rest of the world or anybody, from where he sat. He would sit at his favourite place, below his favourite Chinar tree, and look out at the high snowy mountains of the Kongur mountains, and he would be happy. 

And, sure enough, like all uninvited brothers-in-law, the great Khan's silly brother-in-law came around the high mountain track, riding his moth-bitten dysfunctional old donkey, and started talking, "O great Khan, my mother and father send you their regards, and our family sends you and my sister their best wishes. I see you, O great Khan, you are like an elder brother to me, and I am worried about you."

The great Khan looked at his brother-in-law with all the distaste he could muster, and smoking on his chillum, quietly, irritated, but without showing his anger, replied, "Oye brother of my wife, illiterate fool from the plains, son of demons, why are you worried about me? Was it not enough that you got me married to your family? Why do you punish that poor animal and climb these beautiful mountains that are not mean for those from the plains, and you come here to disturb my peaceful day?"

The silly brother-in-law had suffered enough remarks from the great Khan over many many years, and he knew that these words were probably the most polite that he could expect, and true to his long suffering nature, smiled, and answered, "O great Khan, you are too kind to me and to my donkey and to my parents. But, you are not taking care of yourself. There are new ways to understand life nowadays, and there are new ways that are taught to respect who you are and why you are born and why your life is important. You sit here, away from people, distant and remote, in these high mountains, without seeing anybody, and doing nothing. That is not the correct way to live one's life, O great Khan, as the people who come from the plains and as the people who come from across the seas tell us."

The great Khan was having a difficult time to convince himself that this remote place was a good location to be able to kill this silly brother-in-law and his donkey and throw him down the high mountain, and nobody would know and nobody would be the wiser. But, since he was the great Khan, and he was known to be peaceful and wise, and a true mentor to the rest of the world, he stayed his peace, and replied, "O illiterate fool from the plains, speak plainly before I go and send your sister back to your house, and then you will know the true meaning of fear and terror, for she will not return from your house, and your wife will for sure poison your food, speak, and let me know what is it that you would have me do?"

The brother-in-law shuddered, for he knew the manner of trauma that his wife would inflict on him and his parents if she was riled up, and therefore, he hastened in his reply, and spoke in short sentences, "O great Khan, this new thing is called meditation. These people from the plains and the new teachers from across the seas, they come to our places, and they have set up these remote cottages, and many people come there from the cities, and they teach them meditation. It is meant to be a great new way of life, and a great new way of changing your way of thinking and changing your attitude. You will truly benefit from all the teaching, and you will become a different man, O great Khan." 

The brother-in-law continued, "They say, that you are to go to a remote place, high up in the mountains, away from everyone, sit under a shady tree, select a good location so you can see the mountains all around, and the valleys and the clouds and the trees and sit, in this beautiful location. You sit there, and do nothing. Keep doing nothing, for many days. This is meditation, they say, and if you do this, O great Khan, you will become a better man."

It is truly said, and I would not tell anyone else this, for it is a secret that is rarely told to another, that the silly brother-in-law was never met by anyone else after that day, and his donkey was found later by some children wandering about, aimlessly, in the nearby villages. 

It is thereafter always said, that the great Khan would go about with a very peaceful smile on his face, happy, content and truly delighted with everything in his life, and when he was asked, he would say that he had discovered a new way of life, and he called it - "meditation".

the great Khan speaks about Sufi Rumi

The second meeting with the great Khan

A man asked the great Khan, "Khan sahib, do you know of a holy man that I could go to?"

The Khan replied "Yes, go and see Sufi Rumi, why he's greater then God himself".

"Greater then God". The man and all the other people around him wondered what kind of a person could think such a thing. They went to Rumi, and asked him "Are you claiming to be greater then God himself?". "No, no, no, not at all, I'm just a poor man, not unlike you." said Rumi.

The men went back to the great Khan, and said we talked to Rumi, and he said he's a poor, humble man. The great Khan thundered: "What does that son of an owl know, we know" he said, pounding his chest, "he's greater then God".

the great Khan teaches archery

The third meeting with the great Khan

After winning several archery contests, the young and rather boastful champion challenged the great Khan Saheb who was renowned for his skill as an archer. The young man demonstrated remarkable technical proficiency when he hit a distant bull's eye on his first try, and then split that arrow with his second shot.

"There," he said to the old man, "see if you can match that!"

Undisturbed, the great Khan did not draw his bow, but rather motioned for the young archer to follow him up the mountain.

Curious about the old fellow's intentions, the champion followed him high into the mountain until they reached a deep chasm spanned by a rather flimsy and shaky log. Calmly stepping out onto the middle of the unsteady and certainly perilous bridge, the old man picked a far away tree as a target, drew his bow, and fired a clean, direct hit.

"Now it is your turn," he said as he gracefully stepped back onto the safe ground.

Staring with terror into the seemingly bottomless and beckoning abyss, the young man could not force himself to step out onto the log, no less shoot at a target.

"You have much skill with your bow," the great Khan Saheb said, sensing his challenger's predicament, "but you have little skill with the mind that lets loose the shot."

the great Khan escapes from the monastery

The fourth meeting with the great Khan

There once was a monastery that was very strict. Following a vow of silence, no one was allowed to speak at all. But there was one exception to this rule. Every ten years, the monks were permitted to speak just two words. After spending his first ten years at the monastery, the great Khan went to the head monk. "It has been ten years," said the head monk. "What are the two words you would like to speak?"
"Bed... hard..." said the great Khan.

"I see," replied the head monk.

Ten years later, the great Khan returned to the head monk's office. "It has been ten more years," said the head monk. "What are the two words you would like to speak?"

"Food... stinks..." said the great Khan.

"I see," replied the head monk.

Yet another ten years passed and the great Khan once again met with the head monk who asked, "What are your two words now, after these ten years?"

"I... quit!" said the great Khan.

"Well, I can see why," replied the head monk. "All you ever do is complain."

the great Khan teaches about anger

The Great Khan teaches the Young Khan a lesson... about anger. 

When the Young Khan, a master of all things not to be complimented, was a younger man he called on his master, the Great Khan. 

Wishing to impress the Great Khan, he said, “The mind, and all sentient beings after all do not exist. The true nature of phenomenon is emptiness. There is no realisation, no delusion, no sagacity, no mediocrity, nothing to give and nothing to receive.

The Great Khan promptly hit him with his walking stick. The Young Khan became quite furious.

The Great Khan said quietly: “If nothing exists, where did this anger come from?”

the great Khan goes to school

The Great Khan's youngest of his 18 sons, Tiny Khan, was stopped by the examination supervisor on suspicion of copying the answers from the student sitting ahead of him at his school, high up in the mountains, in a remote village. The examination supervisor accused him of copying the answers from the student ahead of him and said "I know you have been copying. The answers are the same."

The Tiny Khan could not defend himself, and thus, went back crying and wailing to his house, and hid himself, because he knew that the Great Khan could not tolerate a crying Khan in his great household. But, the Great Khan knew of everything that happened in his household, so he got to know about it, and decided to investigate. 

He checked the question papers of both the students, and realised that the examination supervisor must have made a goof-up. So, the next day, the Great Khan, his 21 brothers, 14 Uncles and his 18 sons, loaded up their muzzle-loader guns, and borrowed their neighbours AK 47 and walked up the mountain to the school. This great army waited outside the school, while the Great Khan went in to negotiate. 

The Great Khan made the examination supervisor an argument that could not be disputed. He asked, "If both the students had the same examination question paper, and the same questions, how could Tiny Khan be expected to give different answers?"

the great Khan as a meditation teacher

When the Great Khan held his seclusion-weeks of meditation, pupils from many parts of the land came to attend. During one of these gatherings a pupil was caught stealing. The matter was reported to the Great Khan with the request that the culprit be expelled. The Great Khan ignored the case.

Later the pupil was caught in a similar act, and again the Great Khan disregarded the matter. This angered the other pupils, who drew up a petition asking for the dismissal of the thief, stating that otherwise they would leave in a body.

When the Great Khan had read the petition he called everyone before him. "You are wise brothers," he told them. "You know what is right and what is not right. You may go somewhere else to study if you wish, but this poor brother does not even know right from wrong. Who will teach him if I do not? I am going to keep him here even if all the rest of you leave."

A torrent of tears cleansed the face of the pupil who had stolen. All desire to steal had vanished.

the great Khan and the taxi driver and garbage truck

One day the Great Khan hopped into a taxi for the airport. They were driving in the right lane when suddenly a car jumped out of a parking space right in front of them. 

His taxi driver slammed on his breaks, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches! The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at them. 

The Great Khan's taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. He was really friendly. The Great Khan, known for his violent reactions, was very upset with the friendly nature of his taxi driver.

So he asked, "Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!" 

This is when the taxi driver taught the Great Khan "The Law of the Garbage Truck." 

He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you. Don't take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the street. The bottom line is that successful people don't let garbage trucks take over their day.

the great Khan's father-in-law decides to escape

Two convicts, both Khans, escape from their prison, only to find that the great Khan's father-in-law has followed them out and is running along with them. The three of them see a few tree in the distance and they each climb up one to avoid the bloodhounds that are tracking them. When the police and dogs get to the first tree the dogs go crazy, barking and jumping. 

The first Khan goes, "Meeeow," and the cops just think it is a cat stuck in a tree. So they go to the next tree where the other Khan convict says, "Hoo Hoo hoo Hoooo." The police figure it is just an owl in the tree. The great Khan's father-in-law, hearing how the 2 Khans avoided capture, figures he will do the same, and when the dogs get to his tree, he lets out a loud, "Moooooooooo." 

So anyway, they all three get captured, and now they face the firing squad. The first Khan is standing there and as the warden says, "Ready.....Aim...." the prisoner points behind the cops and yells, "Tornado!" As the firing squad turns to look for the twister, the convict jumps over the wall and escapes. 

Now they have the second Khan convict standing there. "Ready.....Aim...." He points over their shoulders and yells, "Flash flood!", and escapes as they turn to look. 

Now the great Khan's father-in-law has his turn. "Ready.Aim....." Just then the great Khan's father-in-law jumps up and points and yells, "Fire!"

the great Khan tries to win the golden sword

The great Khan, his father-in-law and his neighbour, the fat Khan came down from their high mountain hideout in the north, and decided to have a bout of drinking up at the newly established caravan serai. This was a strange establishment because it was managed by those strange Khans from the other side of the secret mountains. Inside the Serai, they noticed a golden sword kept above the central table. So, the great Khan asked the owner of the Serai about it. 

The owner, a great biggish fattish Fez Khan, replied, "That sword is for the bravest. So many have tried but have failed. There are three challenges. 1. Drink all the ganja and liquor that I have hidden in this big box. 2. Go inside the cellar underground, and pin down the mountain bear, and pull out the thorn in its leg that is making it mad. 3. Go and meet the very beautiful lady we have kidnapped from the great white people's country across the ocean and stay with her for two hours without her throwing you out, for she does not like Khans. If you do all that, you can take the golden sword."

The fat Khan is naturally suspicious, and so, he asks, "What if we fail?" The big fat Fez Khan, owner of the Serai answers, "If you fail, you will work in this Serai upto the next winter, when we close up the Serai and go back to our side of the secret mountains."

So, the great Khan's father-in-law takes up the challenge first, tries to drink all the ganja, but collapses. The owner, Fez Khan, ties him up at the kitchen tent, and he is told that he would have to stay there until the end of summer and work at the kitchen.

The fat Khan goes next for the challenge. He drinks up all the liquor and ganja, and goes down the underground cellar, and soon enough everyone hears a big roar, and the fat Khan is thrown up from the cellar, and he is dead. 

The great Khan takes up the challenge next, for the prestige of his high mountain village is at stake. He drinks up all the liquor and ganja easily and climbs down the underground cellar. Then, there is silence, silence, silence, and some singing by the great Khan, and some snoring by the mountain bear, and the great Khan climbs out of the underground cellar. 

The great Khan asks the fat big Fez Khan, "OK... thats two challenges done. Now, where is this beautiful lady that you have kidnapped from the great white people's country across the ocean? And which leg of hers is injured with the thorn? left or right?"

the great Khan asks his father-in-law to jump from the roof

This can only be told in Hindi - The great Khan was standing on the roof of a tall building and selling underwear. The Khan's father-in-law, always looking to score a point against the great Khan, asked as to why was he standing on the roof of the tall building and selling underwear. 

The great Khan replied and asked the old man to climb up to the roof. The father-in-law climbed over and asked him about the cost of the underwear. The great Khan replied, "10,000 bucks". The old man asked, "what's the great deal about this underwear? Why is it 10,000 bucks?" 

The great Khan replied and asked the old man to try on the underwear, so that he could explain the reason for the cost. The old man obliged and tried on the underwear. Now, the great Khan asked the old man to jump down from the building. The father-in-law looked aghast and refused. 

The great Khan replied, "kyon? phat gai na? Lekin yeh underwear nahi phat-tha..."

the great Khan gives his word to the Lala

The great Khan was sitting with his friends at the caravan serai, somewhere at the crossroads of the Karakoram highway, and one of his friends asked him, "O great Khan, what is your actual age?"

The great Khan replied, "Oye Lala, I am 32 years old."

Some years later, when the group of friends met again at the caravan serai, the same friend asked again, "O great Khan, what is your age now?"

The great Khan replied, "Oya Lala, I am 32 years old."

The friend, stunned, asked, "O great Khan, some years ago you told me that you were 32 years old, and yet, after so many years, you continue to be 32?"

The great Khan, simple of living, and honest in his heart, replied, "Oye Lala, I am the great Khan. Once I give you my word, I will never change it."

the great Khan and the e-postman

The postman was known to be totally terrified to walk in front of the great Khan's house, in this 21st century. The great Khan would hide, in waiting, for the postman to enter the street in front of his house, and would pounce on the poor hapless chap and scold him and shout at him. 

The great Khan's neighbour, a soft-spoken grocer, and a good sympathetic friend of the postman, finally dared to confront the great Khan and asked, "O great Khan, why do you harass the poor postman thus? You have never received any mail and nobody writes to you, and yet, you catch him every day and scold him so badly."

The great Khan respected this soft-spoken grocer, his neighbour and a good man, and therefore, spoke with grace, "O Lalaji, this postman is a fraud. He takes me to be a fool in this modern age. My grandson has a computer and he talks to everyone around the world, and he said that I have a mail account now that he has made for me. And, he keeps saying that somehow, it is certain that I will get at least 10 to 15 mails each day. But, this postman, never delivers..."

the great Khan and his mother-in-law's drunk lover

The great Khan's mother-in-law, a demonic woman, once remarked to her husband, "O look, that old crazy man is back on our street, drunk and singing out loudly, as he usually does." The great Khan's father-in-law, an innocent idiot, asked his wife, "Who is this old crazy man? He does come each week, drunk, and seems to burst into song and dance when he comes near our house."

The great Khan's demonic mother-in-law replied, "He used to court me when we were young. He wanted to marry me. Since our wedding, he has become a drunk." The great Khan's father-in-law remarked, aghast, "Oye begum, this old crazy man seems to have been celebrating his freedom since then. No wonder he comes to our house each week, having drunk to his freedom, and comes over and dances and sings out his joy."

the great Khan and 100 camels

An excellent example of men minding their own business - The great Khan and his wife were traveling in Arabia, returning from their pilgrimage. A local scoundrel approached the husband, and spoke, "O old and noble Pathan, from the great mountains, I see that your woman is worthy of being left behind in this great place of pilgrimage, and you can return to your lands, well and truly convinced that you have sacrificed someone whom you dearly want to give away to this land of pilgrimage. I will give you 100 camels for your woman."

After a long silence, the great Khan spoke, “She is not for sale.”

The indignant woman skulked and screamed at the great Khan, “What took you so long to answer?”

The great Khan replied, “Mind your own business, woman. I was trying to figure out how to get 100 camels back home.”

The great Khan - at the airport with the telephone

The Great Khan was very fascinated by the telephone, the airport and travel. Not in any particular order, but if he was traveling by air, and he was in an airport, and had to wait around, he HAD to speak on the telephone. Actually, he was more fascinated by one another thing. He loved to hear others speak on the telephone at airports. Their conversation fascinated him. 

Nowadays the cellphone is everywhere and it made Great Khan enjoy his fascination at airports much more easier. Earlier with payphones, it was more difficult to eavesdrop. Now, all he had to do was to sit near someone speaking loudly into the cellphone, and he could have his "timepass". 

What the Great Khan did not realise was that travelers speaking intensely and earnestly on their cellphones at airports would get totally rattled if they caught sight of the the huge pathan watching them. The Great Khan's stare could destroy even the most tough of border army sergeants, so how could a hassled air traveler not get nervous. 

Once at the New Delhi airport, early morning, the Great Khan arrived from Kabul, having traveled with great difficulty from his village that was high up in the secret mountains somewhere. Nobody usually bothered with his passport, for did all of them not look the same and did not all of them have the same surname? Someone was to meet the Great Khan at the New Delhi airport at the early hours of 5 am and take him to the old city area near Chandni Chowk. But, the person had not shown up and the Great Khan was getting impatient, and he had no telephone to call from. 

There was a middle-aged businessman looking type person, most probably one of those millions of businessmen Indians from the plains. Of course, anything south of the Ganges in India was the "plains"... not like his good old Himalayas. You knew the good people were from the mountains and all other shifty-buggers were from the plains. This India was indeed a strange place. Anyway, this middle-aged businessman was talking into a payphone and asking someone to come and fetch him from the airport. 

The businessman seemed to be dialing several times, and each time, speaking to someone on the other side. The Great Khan came closer to the businessman and tried to catch the conversation. And kept coming closer and closer, until suddenly the businessman, conservative guy from Mumbai, got aware that there was this huge pathan-like guy, looking totally like a very violent terrorist from Hindi movies about violent terrorists from the Himalayan nations, was standing very near, and hearing all his conversation. Terrified, the businessman kept the phone down, picked up his briefcase and tried to get away. 

It was not possible. The Great Khan had some questions. He blocked the businessman’s exit path and asked in pahari pushtoon-laced Hindi that he knew from the Hindi movie, Zanjeer, “Oye Saheb, whom did you call now? Did you ask someone to meet you and take you to the city?”

The businessman, already terrified, got more terrified, about 10 times more, and it is indeed possible, if you are faced with such a question, early in the morning. He kept nodding, and saying, in English, “Yes. Yes. Yes. Call. Yes. Sorry. Telephone. Yes. Meet. Go. Go. I go. To city. Ok. Thank you. Thank you. Please. Good morning.”

For the Great Khan, this pitter-patter English was the only extent to which he knew the language, and so he was quite comfortable with it. Ok. This was a language that he could also speak with, and therefore, replied, in his bass loud voice, from deep inside his chest, proud that he had an opportunity to speak in English, at an international airport, “Go? You go? How? City? Where city Delhi? Where? Yes. Yes. Speak. Tell. How? Taxi?”

The businessman was getting scared and terrified, terrified and scared, started sweating profusely, and was wondering in his mind, if he had now got caught in some very intricate international terrorist plot or network. Who was this guy? Why did he want to know about my travel to New Delhi town? Why did he want to know about who was coming to pick me? Must be some great supari network or must be from some D- or E- or P- company or whatever. Better to be careful and cautious. He replied, “OK. Yes. Taxi. To pick up from city. I am going to other airport terminal. Not to city. No Delhi. No Delhi. Return to Mumbai. Another airport.”

The Great Khan was tremendously happy. This silly plains-man from south of the Ganges and south of the Indus was able to understand the Great Khan’s English. Nobody had understood his English before. This was an amazing nation, this India. These Indians were probably were very good at English. The villagers in his village in the secret mountains and the buffoon army sergeants in the army camp below did not ever understand his English that he had picked up from his grandson watching the English movie TV programmes from the Dish Cable set that he had forced the Cable guys to install in his secret village.

The Great Khan asked, again in English, “Taxi. From City. On Telephone? You call? He come? To airport. One more airport. Mumbai airport? in Delhi? OK. How much? Money? Dollars? Rupees? You understand? Me say, how much money? Dollars? Rupees?”

The businessman had gone beyond all levels of fear by now. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he had been suffering from blood pressure, ocular pressure, hyperventilation and many other situations, but they used to come and go, and he had not bothered to worry about them. But this, this terrorist-type guy, this large and tall and big and strong sort of pathan, seemed to be really determined and dangerous. The businessman was thinking, ‘He wants my name? My name? That was terrible. And how did he know that I had dollars here at Delhi airport? Someone must have told him. Must be that office superintendent at his office in Mumbai. He knew that I was carrying dollars to Delhi for the payment.’

In reply to the Great Khan, the businessman from Mumbai replied, in growing panic and fear, “No. Yes. No. Yes. Dollars. Yes. Name? My name? Sudhir. Sudhir. Sudhir. Yes. Sudhir. Yes. Dollars. Taxi come. To another airport. Not to city. Payment in other airport. Dollars to foreigner. Going to Mumbai. To foreign.”

The Great Khan settled down in pleasure at this continuing conversation with this very pleasant man from Mumbai. This man was very helpful, he thought. He spoke so nicely to the Great Khan and seemed to always speak in short, brief and very precise sentences, and, always to the point. Not like that old fat fool in his village, the idiot who made his morning tea, Chota Lota-Khan. That man could keep talking for more than 20-30 sentences with a cup of tea in his hand before he would give it over to a customer. The villagers had named him and his father as “Lota-Khan”, for very obvious reasons, because they had reasoned that they probably argued or discussed with themselves before they used the “Lota” (= Small pot-like container) for the purposes it was meant to be used when going out in nature.

This man from the plains was not like Chota Lota-Khan. This man was very pleasant and helpful. He seemed keen to help the Great Khan. He was getting his taxi and he had called for it, and he seemed to be saying that the Great Khan had to go to another airport to go to Mumbai. From Mumbai, he could get a taxi to go to the old city and reach Chandni Chowk. That was quite simple. Phew.

The Great Khan spoke to the businessman from Mumbai named Sudhir, “Oye Sudheer Pasha, Taxi? Good. Call Taxi? Mumbai? Airport? How much money? Dollars? Rupees? Pakistani Rupees? Indian Rupees? How much? I come. With you. Taxi. Give Dollars? Give Rupees? Go to Mumbai? Chandni Chowk?”

[My note = I am actually running out of words to describe Mr. Sudhir’s escalating terror and fear. But, please bear with me. This is early early morning at Delhi airport, and we have a businessman from Mumbai, Mr. Sudhir, making telephone calls to call for a taxi, and being trapped by a 6.5 feet tall Pushtuni-looking Pathan, asking him for dollars and rupees and taxi and wanting to go to Mumbai while wanting to actually go to Chandni Chowk in old Delhi. Confused? Imagine Sudhir’s plight.]

Sudhir was spiralling inside a vortex of panic. He had thought that he could get out of the situation by pretending to want to go to another airport terminal in New Delhi. If you were ever in New Delhi, just wanting to normally change airport terminals inbetween flights can get you into a panic situation, even one week before the actual travel. Now, this terrorist-type of huge guy wanted to come with him in the same taxi? And he wanted the payment of dollars in the taxi? And he also wanted payment in Rupees? Why did he want him to go back to Mumbai?

He replied to the Great Khan, “Taxi? You come? Dollars? Pakistani Rupees? No. No. No Pakistani Rupees. I, Indian, Mumbai. Mumbaiwala? You know, Mumbai? No Pakistani Rupees. I go. My Taxi. No. No. Mumbai not in Chandni Chowk. Chandni Chowk Delhi. Delhi Chandni Chowk. Mumbai different airport. Not Delhi. Ok. Bye. Ok Bye.”

The Great Khan was getting happier and happier with this nice man, Sudhir, who seemed to be a very good man. He did not seem to want any Pakistani Rupees as payment for the taxi to go to another airport in Delhi. And, he was saying “OK” to him, with respect. He was actually saying “OK Bhai”, and he could go free in his taxi. Maybe he could pay him some dollars as a small Thank you, for taking him to the flight to Mumbai. Delhi must be a very big city, if he had to take another flight to go to Chandni Chowk.

He said, “Oye Bhai, Good. Taxi. Come. Go to airport. Go to Mumbai. Go to Chandni Chowk. No Pakistani Rupees. Good. Ok, Bhai. Good. Come. Go. Taxi Go. Chandni Chowk. Mumbai. Airport. Delhi. Taxi Go. Dollars. Only Dollars. In suitcase. All Dollars in suitcase. In Taxi. In Airport. Mumbai Airport. Dollars. Give. Ok, Bhai. Dollars, give.”

Sudhir was wondering and searching for some clue as to how did he get to fit into this terrorist plot? Did someone in his office in Mumbai actually frame him, by sending him to Delhi with Dollars to be paid to their client who was traveling to Mumbai enroute to go abroad? He had thought it was a normal payment, for some services, and his office did it all the time. These foreigner types who worked as consultants in his office normally wanted to get paid in US Dollars, and his office had a foreign currency account and this is what they normally did. How did this violent looking and violent sounding and menacing pathan get to know that he was to courier US Dollars to someone going to Mumbai?

Sudhir decided that he had to now try and escape. There was no point in extending the conversation. After all, he was from Mumbai, and he was a brave man. This was an open public area, and he could just run away. What would this terrorist do? Would he shoot him down openly and cause attention to be focused upon him? He could just start walking and keep walking away. There were many taxi cabs at the entrance to the airport terminal. All greedy con men who would only be too happy to take him without any initial bargaining or negotiation that was the most essential tradition of getting a taxi at Terminal 1 at New Delhi. What would this terrorist do? Would he shoot him? He may not even have a gun.

Miracle of miracles, there seemed to be a wide-enough gap between the tall huge pathan and the payphone stand, and Sudhir decided to take it. He turned sideways, and walked out normally, as if in a very very normal situation, talking to himself, “stay cool, stay cool. Cool. I can get out of this. He cannot harm me. He cannot shoot me. Get away. Get away.” So saying, thinking to himself, Sudhir stepped out and started walking.

‘He was walking, he was walking, he was walking’, thought Sudhir. The tall pathan had not stopped him from getting away. ‘Do not look back. Do not convey any gesture. Somebody must have been watching. The police must have been watching. I must be marked by the police and intelligence bureau and CIA and FBI and all other interpol and police and everyone here. Do not look up. There are CC TV cameras everywhere.’

The crowd seemed to be parting on its own. God must be watching over me, thought Sudhir. The passengers were rushing out, and passengers were moving around. There was a CISF policeman at the gate, and he did seem to be watching him. Maybe he will stop me, maybe he will shoot me. No. No, thought Sudhir. Think good things only. Walk normally. The terrorist guy had not dared to stop him or shout at him or call him. So, he had guessed right, thought Sudhir. The terrorist guy had not got the courage to create an incident.