No you must step into the madness, alone.

They will ridicule you, they will not accompany you, your feet will walk towards light or darkness, unknown. Pushed, you stumble into the balcony, neither here nor there. Not inside, not outside. They have all left, the animals and birds who scrubbed you clean. No fiery red saree for the newborn bride, no kohl. Just the blazing sky after the rains reside in you. And a name. Guru. Dhyan. Slowly the ascend, music in your ears, guiding you. Neti, neti, neti. Swallowed by the omkar. Through his lips, through his breath. And silence. Srishti sthithi, samhara.

Leave the curtains slightly jar just in case the lights decide to come.

Here take this doubt with a massive appetite

And this and this, that stealthily floats within and without like silvery motes of dust.