(Mr Anupam Kher is as entertaining in real life as he is on screen. This was one of the many stories he told us students during our days at his acting school, although I haven’t yet taken his permission to post his story here. Do put down your comments, so that maybe I can show them to him one day.)

This happened in the days when Mr Kher was teaching drama in Nainital, having passed out from the National School of Drama.
 Among others, one of the voice exercises involved short, sharp, loud exhalations of breath, done with the sound “Ha!” One can well imagine that several young men and women going “Ha!...Ha!...Ha!” would have been pretty loud, and the sounds were quite audible outside, even though they used to practice with the doors closed.
 One fine evening, at the end of the session, Mr Kher opened the door and who should he see but two young boys looking at him with awe and reverence.
 “Yes?” he said.
 “Sir, please teach us also karate.”
 Take a moment to think about it. These poor fellows had no idea what exactly used to happen inside; all they could hear were people going Ha! Ha! Ha! Bruce Lee had happened to the world, and these two fine young men had come to the conclusion that the ‘Ha!’s were accompanied by kicks and punches.
 Mr Kher was nonplussed for a moment. “Please, sir, take us as your students,” said the boys. Mr Kher’s compassionate heart and shaitaani dimag were both equally activated, one by the sheer respect for him in the eyes of the boys, and the other by the extremely juicy potential of the situation he found himself in. They were so very enthusiastic he didn’t have the heart to tell them that he was as much a karate teacher as Bruce Lee had been an embroidery instructor.
 “Let’s see,” he said in a non-committal tone and stepped out, his shaitaani dimag going into overdrive, wondering how he could milk the situation.
 The lake was just a short walk away, so he went towards it. The two boys were following him like he was taking them to a Himalayan peak where he would impart them yogic wisdom.
 A wooden railing bounded the lake to prevent clumsy people from falling in. Mr Kher looked at the railing and thought, “If I karate-chop one of these wooden beams now, it’ll simply kill these fellows. Let’s see now…this one looks too strong…this one’s slightly termite-eaten, but…ah, this one looks totally rotten – time to show off my karate prowess.”
 What Mr Kher hadn’t seen was that the wooden railings were fortified with iron rods underneath. He continued his grandstanding show.
 He stood in a casual pose next to his chosen beam, as though he did this every other day, cast a watch-me glance at the boys, raised his hand, brought it down hard, and –
 AAAAAAA….!!!
 I leave it to your imagination to visualize what happened when Mr Kher’s hand connected with solid iron. Just picturize a last shot – a filmy cut-to Mr Kher the next day with his hand plastered and arm in a sling, and one of his many comic sullen ex-pressions on his face.