An idea, a thought, an anecdote, a story or a poem a day!

  Peace? How did it feel?    My princess, her eyes shining with unshed tears that break my heart, asks me, this innocent question “How does it feel like?” I want to give an answer, but hesitate, Holding her small hand in my hand, I am thinking How do I describe something that is no more? When she asks me again, “Is it velvety, smooth, and soothing like the cool touch of your palm?” Kissing that quiver of a forgotten smile on her lips, begging for an answer,  I try to re-imagine how it was, When her voice urgently pleads me “Does it have a taste, is it as sweet as sugar, or salty like your kisses, Mumma?” Unable to answer even this question, I remain silent as   How can you even describe what its taste was, so different from the mettle taste of war? When yet another question coaxes me to speak “Does it make any sound, sweet and musical, like your singing?” As she waits for my answer patiently, I wonder And trying to remember the f...