The story of nobody

There was once upon a time a place where all people had stories. There lived a boy called nobody, in
this place.He had no name, no story or identity therefore he had no friends.

So nobody left the village to travel and search for who he was in the jungle and mountains. He made
friends with birds and animals and trees and hills, he liked how beautiful they were.

But he was still not happy as he still carried the weight of that question, so disappointed he kept
travelling farther and farther. On the way, he helped an old man and shared his food with him, he saw
thieves and stopped them from hurting others.

Nobody accepted defeat and conceded it was hard to know who you were, you had to be born with
it, he knew he could not go back to his people so he decided to live alone in the mountains but he
wondered from time to time if the rest of the villagers were okay.

Then one day he met a shepherd who was passing through alone with his goats and he offered him
food. Nobody was happy to have a companion and shared his story with him, then he asked the
shepherd who he was. The shepherd thought for a moment and then replied i am what i find beautiful in
life and what i want to change in it. Nobody was confused so he asked him again to which the shepherd
said that you can call all goats as goats or all beasts as beasts because they are not much different to
each other they are bound to their nature but you can decide what you want to be and what you want
to do.

Nobody thought about it, he knew what he found beautiful in life and what he would like to improve
about it, what he thought of as right and what he thought as wrong, was this the answer that he was
searching for?

The shepherd carried on, you showed on your journey the judgement between deciding right and
wrong so how about we call you mizan, the one deciding between right and wrong.

Nobody was happy with that name and thanked the shepherd and started his journey back home for
he had gotten his answer. It didn't matter where he came from or what name he carried, what mattered
was what he stood for and what he stood against, what his thoughts were and how they could see
beauty in things and the desire to improve what wasn't beautiful.

In the end, mizan knew that we aernt born with names and stories of the past attached to us, we
write our own stories with our thoughts and actions in the present, what we are born with though is the
eye of the heart which reveals who we are, where we are meant to go and who we are meant to be.

By Abdullah Khan

Bachelor of medicine and surgery year II

Avicenna medical college, Lahore