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The cup stood in his sight. Right in front of him. Waiting for him to lift it. Here in front of his eyes. Victory at Last.
He glared at the cup with glee amidst all those who watched with eagerness. He held it tight lest it slip from his grip. It was a cup that he had wanted to lift for such a long time. This was an experience he had been waiting for. He looked at it with wonder with a sense of disbelief.
In all the euphoria surrounding him, he did not forget the pains of getting here over the past twelve months. So much effort, and so much luck. He knew it could have gone either way. That this day might have never come. He thanked the Almighty for his mercy.
He could sense sweat forming on his forehead. A few drops of tears filled his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. His wife, his son and his family were waiting to celebrate his win from a distance. The faces of his near and dear ones swelled with pride. His friends, some of whom, had given up on this dream ever coming true, only a few months back, felt a sense of shame on their thoughts. They clapped with a sense of vengeance. No doubt he was a fighter
But he was now filled with humility. His mouth and lips quivered when the cup rose as he lifted it and got it closer.
Taking a sip from the cup he had lifted with excruciating effort for the first time, he cried out, “My Cup of Joy.” He looked with contentment at the new arm that had replaced the one amputated after that accident last year.
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