Daas wrote this several years ago, and just stumbled on it again now. Interesting to look back on old writing.
Your face is a picture of calm - of perfect composure. On the inside, still waters give ways to tidal waves ripping up delicate shores. Your body walks amidst a crowd, blending with their movements, walking in rhythm with their steps. You smile, you nod at their gestures. Your mind is not with them.
Some people glance sideways as they walk by, but soon they carry on with their business. Rush, rush, rush. To work. To school. To enslavement. You are aware of the invisible shackles, and threw them out long ago for iron cuffs. Bondage to the greater master, the One and only. Every moment, your eyes search threw the thick mobs, trying to see through them. You know he dwells among them.
You walk with the crowd with dry eyes and robotic steps. The picture of perfect composure. Your mind is chaos, anxiety, anticipation, impatience - but you wear the soldier's uniform and will not tarnish it. You are imperfect, but you will never stop seeking perfection. You are foolish, but you will never stop yearning wisdom. You do not see Him - but you will never stop searching threw the thickness.
You tread without caution, not wrapped up in worries like all the others. You know you are different, and worthless too, but you are not self-conscious. You are self-aware. Your master taught you how to sway. They would never understand the ecstasy of his gaze. The people are frightened at the way you do your devotion. There is no point in trying to explain, they do not know that you were long ago sold to your master. You are a slave, a hand-maiden, your job is devotion, love, whatever you will call it.
Those moments when you stand furthest from the crowd, you are most reminded of your lonesome path. As the people around you carry on walking, you pause, and dwell on your yearning for your master's companionship. You are fighting a battle, but they do not know it. There is no one helping you. The only support is your Master’s whispers which come when he commands you in your next steps, and sometimes the silence becomes too much to bear. But you can only carry on walking, wishing you knew where to take your feet. You can only keep moving.
ਸਤਿਗੁਰਬਚਨਕਮਾਵਣੇਸਚਾਏਹੁਵੀਚਾਰੁ॥