It happened once upon a time that Mullah Nasruddin was walking along a road past a cemetery, when he saw some horsemen approaching.  The riders were unknown to him, and immediately a number of unpleasant possibilities flashed through Nasruddin’s mind: perhaps they were thieves, and would rob him of everything–or worse, sell him into slavery.  Or beat him senseless and throw his body in the ditch.  Or perhaps they were soldiers, looking for innocent citizens to force into service.

The more he thought, the more alarmed the Mullah became, and so before the riders reached him he ran to the side of the road and jumped over the wall into the cemetery.  Seeing an open grave nearby, he threw himself into it and stretched out on the bottom, hoping to be hidden from pursuit.

The horsemen, however, were simply honest traders, and seeing an apparently respectable mullah behave in such an unusual manner, they said to themselves, “Surely we should investigate.  Perhaps he is unwell, and in need of assistance.”  Accordingly, they also climbed over the wall, and soon found the Mullah trembling in the bottom of an open grave.  Looking down at him with concern on their faces, they said, “Sir, please tell us why you are here?”

The Mullah now understood that his fears were groundless.  Sitting up, and adjusting his turban with all the dignity he could manage, he said, “Just because you can ask a question, gentlemen, it does not mean that the question is easily answered.  To be plain, it is a case of what philosophers call ‘dependent causation’: I am here because of you–and you are here because of me!”