There was once a competition involving three gruelling tests. The participants had to do the following in immediate succession:
Many people bravely tried their hands (or should I say mouths) at it. Few could get beyond the first stage. And the inebriated few who managed it, got promptly eaten up by the starving lion. There was none who could read the third stage.
And then, one fine day, Santa Singh walked into the contest. Five bottles of whiskey were nothing for him. He emptied five bottles in five gulps. Then he said, "Bhale change hai hum, thagde hai. Bathao, lion kahan hai." When shown the room, he coolly walked in.
There was no hint of fear on his face, but rather the cool confidence of a person who knew he could do it.
Sounds of a mammoth fight came from the room. Screams of the Sardar and growls of the lion were intermingled. Thumps and thuds which shook the very earth ensued. All of a sudden there was a piercing, heart-rending roar from the Lion.
The audience waited with bated breath, their hair stood on end. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the titanic roar stopped. An eerie silence prevailed.
As the audience watched, with eyes popping out, the door of the room opened, and out came the Sardar. Badly bruised, with blood streaming from his face, hands and legs, he stumbled out - victorious, nevertheless. His face had the glow of satisfaction of an emperor who had just won a battle.
And then he asked, "Where is the woman whose eyes I have to pluck out?"