Santa Singh went to his doctor after a long illness. The doctor, after a lengthy examination, sighed and looked Santa Singh in the eye and said, Ive some bad news for you… you have cancer and it cant be cured. Id give you two weeks to a month.

Santa Singh, shocked and saddened by the news, but of solid character, managed to compose himself and walk from the doctors office into the waiting room. There he saw his son who had been waiting.

Santa Singh said, Puttar, we Surds celebrate when things are good and celebrate when things dont go so well. In this case, things arent so well. I have cancer and Ive been given a short time to live. Lets head for the pub and have a few pints.

After three or four pints, two were feeling a little less somber. There were some laughs and more beers. They were eventually approached by some of Santa Singhs old friends who asked what the two were celebrating.

Santa Singh told them that the Surds celebrate the good and the bad. He went on to tell them that they were drinking to his impending end. He told his friends Ive only got few weeks to live as I have been diagnosed with AIDS.

The friends gave Santa Singh their condolences and they had a couple more beers.

After his friends left, Santa Singhs son leaned over and whispered his confusion, Dad, I thought you said that you were dying from cancer? You just told your friends that you were dying from AIDS!

Santa Singh said, I am dying from cancer, puttar. I just dont want any of them around your mother after Im gone.