A dark hall, a screen, a story. The hero dies and tears run down the viewer's face. But what is actually there? Three primary colours, mixed in different proportions and thrown onto a white wall. No one was born, no one died, no one suffered. People sit in the dark, staring at a wall. Śrī Prem Prayojan Prabhu says the analogy needs no explaining — you all feel it. And that is how the ordinary person lives: in avidyā, without knowledge of who he is. Yet we are ātmā — conscious, immaterial, transcendental to time. We are not born, we do not die; the soul cannot be killed, cut or burned, it is indestructible. There is no danger. There is no death. There is only engrossment.