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	<title>Rashid Saeed &#187; march</title>
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	<description>A Different Life from Indifferent Perspective</description>
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		<title>March of the March</title>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 18 Mar 2009 11:29:21 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Rashid</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Random Thoughts]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[march]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[spring]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;Springly&#8221; march of the March continues. Its the magic march that spread its magic wand on the wizened trees and makes them blossom. Walking through an autumned passage of falling leaves burnt with coldness of chilling hot snow. Leaving behind the colors and blossoms of spring. Making life warm and easier for its &#8220;dependents&#8221;. Without [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><img class="alignnone size-full wp-image-171" title="Spring Apple" src="wp-content/uploads/2009/03/230x-2592002chttp3a2f2ff3_yahoofs_com2fymg2fnull__112fnull-58153602-1219948077.jpg" alt="Spring Apple" width="230" height="172" align="right" />&#8220;Springly&#8221; march of the March continues. Its the magic march that spread its magic wand on the wizened trees and makes them blossom. Walking through an autumned passage of falling leaves burnt with coldness of chilling hot snow. Leaving behind the colors and blossoms of spring. Making life warm and easier for its &#8220;dependents&#8221;. Without knowing what it leaves behind, it continues its journey through the blue. If only it could look back and see how colorful the life was but then it could not proceed further.</p>
<p>We, too, are perhaps like March in a way. All we see ahead is the pains and problems and when we look back, we see a life full of colors. But we never realize that it was actually our presence that filled the &#8220;autumned&#8221; passage with roses. Beauty and colors of past fill our eyes so much that we dream of colors and comforts of spring in our way ahead. Our feet stop as eyes start their journey, running relentlessly on never ending track of dreams. Going through barren lands echoing with spent silence, the journey of closed eyes through the hollow islands continues till it hits the darn truth.</p>
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