Walking one evening along a deserted road, Mulla Nasrudin saw a troop of horsemen coming towards him. His imagination started to work; he saw himself captured and sold as a slave, or impressed into the army.
Nasrudin bolted, climbed a wall into a graveyard, and lay down in an open tomb.
Puzzled at his strange behaviour, the men – honest travelers – followed him.
They found him stretched out, tense and quivering.
‘What are you doing in that grave? We saw you run away. Can we help you?’
‘Just because you can ask a question does not mean that there is a straightforward answer to it,’ said the Mulla, who now realised what had happened. ‘It all depends upon your viewpoint. If you must know, however: I am here because of you, and you are here because of me.’