On a cold, cloudy morning in November he found himself on the tennis court playing. It felt good to be back, he thought. He had been away from the courts for almost a year and this was his big return - the tryouts for the college team. He was rusty and it showed. The serves were not accurate enough, the legs were almost impossibly slow.

After almost half an hour of playing like a shadow of what he previusly was, the coach called him aside and said, "Look, I know its tough for you....but I can give you one week. Son, sometimes in life you should know when to give up. Maybe this is one of those times. Come back in a week if you think you yet have it within you to succeed." "Maybe I should back off ",he thought. "Maybe this isn't my cup of tea, its like I'm out of my league."

The long ride back home was dreary, it seemed life had snatched way the one thing he loved: playing tennis. When he reached home, his mother understood form his long drawn face hwta must have transpired at the selection. She felt heartbroken for her son, but told him to train hard for next week. He decided to accept her advice ; he should consider this as the proverbial olive branch i the storm and grab it with both hands.

And train he did. His father and he would spend hours together trying to get the lost power back in his hands and he mentally strenghthened himself using meditation. In a couple of days, his confidence grew and he began attacking the ball instead of merely running around trying to play it. He fekt he was getting there, but time was short.

The big day arrived: the coach would watch him play against the under-16 district level runner up and decide whether he was good enough. There were butterflies in his stomach as he tossed the ball high for the serve. SWISHH his racquet hit the yellow ball square in the midde and yes, it was, a true blue ACE! After almost 40 minutes of intense polaying, he got the better of his opponent and defeated him fair and square. He had made the college team....for two years ina row. This time it was all the more special because he had not been able to run for almost 10 months after his accident. He had lost both his legs and now had managed the feat on artificial limbs for the legs. He cried the tears of oy, of celebration and this was the happiest he had ever felt since the amputation. He felt ready for the upcoming tournament and looked at his artificial legs ; the faith, the hope in his eyes that he would emerge triumphant was clearly visible.