Ujaagar Jokes / Recent Jokes

Absorbed in his own little world, once Ujaagar fell into a pit and couldn't get himself out. A Subjective person came along and said:
'I feel for you down there.'

An Objective person came along and said.
'It's logical that someone would be down there.'

A Journalist came along and said:
'I want the exclusive story on the man's pit.'

Confucious said:
'If you had listened to me, you wouldn't be in
that pit.'

Buddha said:
'Your pit is only a state of mind.'

A Realist said:
'That's a pit.' A Scientist:
Calculated the pressure necessary to get him out
of the pit.

A Geologist said:
'Observe the rock strata in the pit.'

A Taxman asked:
'Are you paying taxes for the pit?'

A Municipal Inspector asked:
'Do you have a permit to dig a pit?' An Evasive person came along: And avoided the subject of the pit altogether.

A Self-pitying person more...

Following his unrelenting devotion and service towards the cause of his religion, Ujaagar was appointed the granthi (priest) of a neighbourhood gurudwara.
It was a holiday and a long queue had formed at the petrol station. When at last it was Ujaagar's turn, the attendent apologised for the long delay:' They all knew they were going to make this trip, yet they all waited until the last minute to get ready!'
Ujaagar smiled ruefully.' I know what you mean,' he said.' It's like that in my business, too!'

During his earlier years, Ujaagar did a brief stint as a postman in a local town. It was there that his love story unfolded.

One Major Fateh Singh and Mahendro (Ujaagar's future wife) were deeply in love and while the Major was away serving his country, he wrote to her everyday, without fail.

At the end of three years the romance bore fruit - Mahendro married the postman Ujaagar!

Ujaagar boarded a crowded bus with a bagful of purchases. There was no vacant seat. As the old bus rattled and swayed, he supported himself precariously, holding the bag in one hand, the other hand holding the bar provided near the ceiling.

'Ticket. .. ticket. .. ticket,' the conductor made several rounds past Ujaagar. His wallet in his hip pocket and both hands engaged, Ujaagar didn't know what to do.

'Ticket, Sardarji,' the conductor asked again. Ujaagar thrust the bag into the conductor's hand and struggled to take the wallet out, when the conductor protested:' I can't be carrying passengers' baggage like this - I'm the conductor, after all!'

'Okay, then give me the bag, and here, will you please hold the bar,' replied Ujaagar.

Being court-martialled for his odd behaviour in the defence services, Ujaagar landed in Delhi Police instead. A class was in progress and an officer was explaining the situation:
'Imagine you're on duty when two cars smash into each other. You are just about to go to their aid when you notice a lorry hurtling down the hill towards the blind corner where the accident has occurred. You hear a scream and see that the shock of the crash has sent a pregnant woman on the pavement into premature labour. Meanwhile, a fireball from one of the car's petrol tanks is heading towards a crowded dhaaba full of people. What do you do?'
Silence pervaded the class when suddenly Ujaagar opened up and spoke,' Kama ki hai, apni vardi utaaro aur bheed main shaamil ho jaao.' (What do we need to do? Just slip off our uniforms and merge with the crowd.)