FF: the dedication series EDT- 3/8 - Page 8

Originally posted by: --starstruck--

sheesh! i haven't even planned anything yet!

I'll start thinking right away

just a heads up to those writers who have never read any of my story, i usually write either an angsty story or melodramatic or humorous! 😃

Originally posted by: SaneWhispers

which means its going to be something worth reading!

Originally posted by: chahat11

WE have to write Happy mushy

But I like your work

So bring it on

Originally posted by: --starstruck--

you've read my work?

btw, i'm ready with the plot of the FF! now i just need the confirmation from the TM regarding me being the first and then ill start with the first chapter! i'll pm the plot to all the writers once the TM replies to my pms :)

PS - um, i don't think the plot is happy, mushy!

Originally posted by: SaneWhispers

Great! i can never do the happy mushy stuff... senti sorrow stuff works for me! will be waiting for your first part!

Originally posted by: --starstruck--

i can do happy mushy stuff but i'm more of a drama queen! melodrama has been my forte ever since i was 12😃

Originally posted by: --starstruck--

i can do happy mushy stuff but i'm more of a drama queen! melodrama has been my forte ever since i was 12 😃

Price of Redemption!

Theobroma Magazine,

Title: Food? Yeah let's call it that!

You could if you wish, hate "Kohinoor" on principle, but one simply can't hate the restaurant on principle, there's more than enough about the place to let you hate it on its own terms. There is the usual stupidity of booking a table for 9pm only to be told that your booking is for just two hours. There is the unusual stupidity of an ape in a bomber jacket shoving his body between you and the door and barking: "Are you eating here tonight?" To which I could but reply: "Only if you'll let me." (Now that's one of the advantages of going without informing, you get to see the real face and not the facade that they usually put up when they are told that their restaurant is being reviewed.)

The pretty lady in an extremely short skirt who seems to be holding a "PR" position is um, rude, and that's putting it mildly. Maybe she was just jealous of my beautiful dress.

Let's move on to the decor. How is it related to food, you ask? It definitely is related to food. Allow me to explain. Down a flight of stairs, past the crowds of young ladies with gentlemen sucking the bar dry, the faux chandeliers, the almost gaudy look of the restaurant, the constant clanking of the glasses as the bartenders twirl the various cups in a fashion worth noticing (that was the only thing 'nice' about the place, the twirling, not the clanking). I paint with words don't I? So tell me is this the ideal place in your mind when you set your foot out, probably alone (like me), probably with your family to have what you call a 'decent meal'? And let's just say you are out with your business associates in a restaurant like "Kohinoor" I highly doubt you will be able to concentrate on the deal, what with all the noise.

It reminds me of the mega restaurants of Las Vegas, with one crucial difference. In Vegas the restaurants are generally very good. There's too much competition for it to be otherwise. This is generally very, very bad: prices that knock the wind out of you and moments of cooking so cack-handed, so foul, so astoundingly grim you want to congratulate the kitchen on its incompetence. I'm not saying that I was expecting a Gordon Ramsay dish; all I wanted to eat was a fairly decent meal. Was I expecting too much? (Now I know I was)

Now let's, move on to the food, shall we? (Yeah I did try the food, I had no other option). It takes me a minute to nail the rabbit dish: the small gnarly bits of meat, the heavy sauce that tastes as if it has been thickened with corn flour, the weird hit of chicken flavour I associate with stock cubes. It's a chicken and mushroom Pot Noodle, without the useful plastic pot. Zucchini fritti are so much hot and wet with floppy saltiness. I finish with a pile of formless Italian meringue. The hit of sugar feels like a reward. (Ah bliss!). Let's not talk about the wine shall we? The over priced wines which usually is priced at 10 euros in Italy was priced here at a price which made me question was this restaurant only reserved for senators and the Queen maybe?

My advice – There's Mac Donald at the main road, right opposite the restaurant, you should try it. It was probably created because of some wise man that could see the future and knew people would want to eat "food" after walking out of "Kohinoor".

Rating: 2 out of 5

Critiqued by: Zoya Farooqui

Writer: Zoya Farooqui

Asad slammed the magazine shut and threw it across the office. His anger was palpable and his employees scurried away to continue with their work, obviously not wanting to face his wrath. Asad wanted to walk up to that little girl who dared to compare his restaurant with Mac Donald and teach her a lesson for the piece of shit that she calls a review. Oh how he wished to sue her. A well-known food critic is what people say about her, if her magazine wasn't so famous he would've sued her by now. He was in a good mood in the morning; he was in a good mood almost every morning since his father Rashid Ahmed Khan handed over the responsibility of running all the bars, hotels and restaurants they owned, over to him. All his good mood went flying out the window when Prasad showed him that goddamn magazine. How dare she rate his restaurant only 2? Who the hell did she think she was?

His PA peeped in and said,

"Um, sir, Rashid sir is on the line for you." She said meekly.

Asad groaned in frustration and hoped against hope that his father didn't read the review or he would serve his head on a silver platter. He asked her to forward the call to him and he took a deep breath before answering the call.

"Abbu!"

"What the hell did I just read?" he all but screeched.

"Yeah about tha-"

"Weren't you prepared for a food critic?"

"Abbu she came unannounced. Is that even allowed?" Asad asked but regretted it later.

"Is it allowed, you ask? Don't you know anything about running restaurants? Of course she is allowed, they have the right to come whenever they want with or without notice. You need to be prepared all year round. Never have I faced such humiliation, never has my restaurant been degraded to such an extent by any of the critics." Rashid said in a sad voice making Asad feel guilty for not living up to his father's expectation.

"Woh actually abbu…"

"Listen young man you are going to make her change her review in a month. A month is all you have, all else I'll hand over the responsibility of my restaurants to Ayaan." He gave him an ultimatum.

"Ayaan? You know he'll ruin 'Kohinoor'!"

"Well then you have to live with the guilt that it happened because of your one stupid mistake."

"How am I supposed to change her mind?" he asked dejected.

"She is a girl, you should know the way to a girl's heart. You are a fairly handsome man try to impress her with your looks, wine her, dine her, f**k her for all I care but she should change her review in a month!" and with that Rashid hung up on him. Asad stared at the phone, unable to comprehend what he just heard. He balled his hand in a fist and banged it against the table. He picked up his phone and called his Personal Assistant.

"Elena, I want you to connect the call to Ms Zoya Farooqui!"

oOo

"You need a lot of guts for that stunt you pulled out Zoya." Said Shireen the owner of the "Theobroma Magazine".

Zoya simply shrugged and continued to stare at the article. The satisfaction she felt at reading it was more than what she had expected.

"Do I sense some personal animosity here?" Shireen raised her eyebrow at her. Zoya kept the book aside and looked at Shireen.

"Shireen the name of our magazine means "Food of the Gods" and my job is to show people where exactly they'll get the food of the Gods. I'm just doing my job." She winked at her. Shireen smirked and she knew there was something going on in her mind.

"Ma'am Mr Asad Ahmed Khan is on the line for you." Zoya's intern told her.

"Aha! Just what I was waiting for."

Shireen didn't miss the wicked gleam in her eyes. She shook her head at her and walked out of her office. As long as Zoya was increasing their magazine's sales she didn't care a dime about her personal life. This article of hers was the talk of the town and this month's sales had rocketed up thanks to Zoya's controversial article. The girl had some real talent and that was all she cared about, after all it all comes down to money in the end.

"What's the story, morning glory?" Zoya said in a sing-song voice. Asad cringed; the girl had absolutely no sense of remorse or guilt. She sounded like she was enjoying his misery. The devil!

"I want to meet you." He came straight to the point.

"Ah, I know you do." She replied proudly and leaned back on her chair.

"Great I'll pick you up at 7!" he was about to hang but her reply made him burn with rage.

"Sure but please don't take me to the Kohinoor restaurant, I just a read a review and I really don't want food poisoning. Who was the writer, oh yes! It was me!" she mocked.

Before Asad could form a sarcastic reply she hung up on him. He wanted to break the phone, two people hung up on him today and that was not something he was used to.

oOo

Zoya walked inside her apartment and she directly went into Humaira's room. Humaira was walking around the room with her huge pregnant belly picking up the scattered clothes on the floor, neatly folding them and keeping them in the cupboard. Her face was blank and emotionless, it was like she was living but was not actually alive. Zoya felt tears sting her eyes looking at her baby sister's condition. She walked in and took the clothes from humaira's hands.

"How many times do I have to tell you, you need to rest! I don't pay the maids to sleep." she folded the shirt and stuffed it in the cupboard. She then made Humaira lie down on the bed and covered her with the duvet.

"Did you take your meds?" she asked in her sweet motherly voice that she had reserved for Humaira ever since Humaira was born. Humaira simply nodded and turned her face away from her. Zoya patted her head once and then walked out of the room. Only when she was in her room did she let her tears flow. Her sister was going through the worst phase of her life and all because of that hedonistic man who thought the world revolved around him, who thought he was the master of everyone's universe, who considered himself as some hotshot billionaire with girls throwing themselves at him, who thought he had the goddamn right to take women to his lair, promise them a life that every woman dreams of and then throw them away like a piece of trash, leaving them heart-broken, vulnerable and PREGNANT! She wasn't going to lie, she had this uncontrollable urge to castrate him after Humaira told her that he practically pushed her out of his car when she told him she was pregnant with his child. If it was up to her then she would make sure he was burnt in the seventh circle of hell and she would walk away from there with a satisfied grin on her face. That son of a bitch had the audacity to question the lineage of the unborn child growing in humaira's womb. Oh, Lucifer himself will hang his head in shame in front of him.

"Mr Asad Ahmed Khan, I'm going to make sure you question your existence, I'll make sure you are so mentally damaged that you will not be in a right state to ever do what you did to my sister." She wiped her tears and went towards the closet to select a dress for the evening. The game is so on!

XXX

A/N – So here is the first part of this dedication series FF! This part is dedicated to my best friend with whom i have made a number of mills and boonish plots and this being one of them is dedicated to her! Purnima, I love you sweetheart!

If anyone is confused, Theobroma is the name of the magazine that Zoya works for. It's a Greek word which means "food of the gods". The next writer after me is Milli. She is going to continue from where I left off. Good luck milli and pm me if you have any doubts! I'm very excited to read how the other writers continue this!

~ Sadie!