The Snob Foodie Part-5
I was drenched in sweat, gasping for breath, nausea was overwhelming me. Sitting on a creaky chair in a dingy room, I kept tapping my feet on the floor to distract myself from the hideous gaze of the prisoners cramped inside the single lock-up of the police station.
After I received the call from Inspector Raunak Choudhary, I hurried to the police station. I had no idea why I was required here, since all my life I had maintained a respectful distance from the guardians of law. The thought of being involved in matters of law freaked me out, but today destiny had dragged me to the threshold of dread. After I reached the police station, I was ordered by the constables to wait in the visitors' area near the entrance. I have been waiting for nearly an hour but nobody has taken any notice of me.
I mustered up my courage and approached a constable who was busy with his mobile, "Excuse me sir, I have been asked by Inspector Raunak Choudhary to reach the police station as soon as possible. So, can I meet him?"
The constable, who was visibly annoyed by the interruption, almost shouted at me, "Who do you think you are? Are you the prime minister of India that you are ordering me to call the inspector so that you can have tea with him? I have no time for your nonsense as you can see I have lots of work to attend to. Now go away and let me do my work."
I got back to the creaky chair. Suddenly, an unsettling thought occurred to me. It might have been a hoax call; and some prankster must now be snickering at my foolishness and the brilliance of their prank. I was enraged with myself for being taken in by such a foolish prank. Just as I was considering calling back the number, the 'busy' constable who had just reproached me for wasting his time, called out, " Mr Aman Awasthi, you are ordered to go to the Inspector's room" and once again he was engrossed in his mobile.
I was shown the way to the Inspector's room by another constable. The nameplate on the door read 'INSPECTOR RAUNAK CHOUDHARY'. Meekly I knocked on the door and entered. Inside, I saw a man, probably in his 40s, dressed smartly in his khaki uniform perusing some piles of papers. I cleared my throat to draw his attention.
Looking up, he said in an officious tone, "You must be Aman Awasthi. I am sorry for the inconvenience caused to you, I may have sent someone to your house but I wanted to handle the matter personally. Please have a seat."
I sat on the visitor's chair adjacent to his own. I was bewildered by his words. I had no idea of what he was saying. I was too anxious to say anything. Seeing my anxiety he offered me a glass of water. After I gulped down the water, he handed me a white envelope and resumed his work. I took the envelope with shivering hands and stared at it. It was a plain white envelope with nothing on it, except for the centre. At the centre of the envelope my name along with my phone number was written in a neat cursive handwriting. I couldn't identify the handwriting; in fact, I couldn't make sense of anything that was happening. With shacking hands, I opened the envelope, as I was retrieving a letter from the inside; a wilted ocean blue lily fell on my lap. My whole body was shuddering as I picked up the wilted flower from my lap. The ocean blue lily looked eerily similar to the one I bought 12 years ago on my way to The Wide Canvas. As I kept the wilted flower on the desk, my stomach was churning, I felt I might throw up; I wanted to run away from all that was happening to me. I gulped down another glass of water. Slowly, I unfolded the letter and stared at it. It was written on a plain white sheet in the same neat cursive handwriting as on the envelope. My hands were shaking uncontrollably; somehow I steadied them and began reading the letter.
Dearest Aman,
I know I owe you an apology for snapping contact for 12 long years. But, let’s keep all complains, agonies, apologies aside for a while and lets just talk, like the night at The Wide Canvas 12 years ago. You might be wondering why I chose to write a letter that too after 12 years. It's because there are a lot of things that I want to confess. And more than any apology it's my confession that I owe you the most. Though it is somewhat ironic but I fervently wish that the phone number you gave me 12 years ago is still existent, for it is the only way to ensure that the letter find its way to you.
Today, when I sat at my desk to pour my heart out onto the letter, I realized what I have known all along, I don't have anyone to tell my story to. But no tears rolled down my eyes; no, don't be surprised, the reservoir of my tears had dried up ages ago. Letting out a long sigh, I opened the window and welcomed the cool evening breeze. I closed my eyes and let the evening zephyr caress my hair, regretting that my story will lay forever buried in my heart. Suddenly my brain reverted 12 years and I saw a meek young boy gazing intently into my eyes. Immediately, I opened my eyes, picked up the pen and scrawled your name on the paper, confidently.
So, Aman brace yourself, for I am not the Goddess you offered your heart to. Shall we begin from the beginning?
Alright then, four and a half decades ago a girl was born to an Indian immigrant woman, who worked at an elite restaurant in Paris. The girl was named Alice Leroy by her French father who also worked at the same elite restaurant. Alice and her family lived in the poorer sections of the city; nevertheless she had a happy childhood. Her hardworking parents wore themselves out to ensure a safe and secure future for her. But, there was a fault with Alice's destiny. When her destiny was being scrawled the nib of the pen broke before 'happiness' could be written. No efforts were made to correct the mistake and she was thus send to the world with a smudged, incomplete 'happiness'. So, when everything was seemingly normal and happy in little Alice's life, she encountered the first turmoil of her life which upset her world, quite literally. When little Alice was nine years old, her father abandoned her and her mother. Ostensibly, he went to his mistress who was far more beautiful and younger than Alice's mother. This tragic incident completely broke down her mother. She had no one to call her own except her little daughter in that foreign land and this realization mentally devastated her. Depression hit her hard and after a while she lost her job at the restaurant. Her mental condition deteriorated, she became a threat to her neighbours. She was taken to the mental asylum by the authorities, while little Alice was sent to an orphanage.
There at the orphanage, the juvenile inmates were deployed in various menial tasks that earned them the right to two square meals a day. Little Alice was deployed in the kitchen to assist the more experienced apprentices. It was the back-breaking work at the kitchen that helped Alice combat the sorrow that disrupted her life, because after the day's hard work she didn't have the energy to lament her loses or cry her heart out and as soon as she hit the bed she slipped into a deep slumber.
Her daily routine included little else than the back-breaking work at the orphanage's kitchen. But, she never minded it much because from an early age she had felt a strong affinity towards food, and as she spent more and more time of her day in the kitchen her bond with food strengthened further. Somehow, she believed that she was fated to be the best food connoisseur whose opinion would be the most sought after. It was indeed the greatest strength of her life that even in the face of toughest adversity, she never stopped dreaming big.
The denial of happiness was somehow compensated by the abundance of beauty that Destiny bestowed on her. As Alice stepped on the threshold of adolescence, she became aware of her cherubic beauty. Suddenly, she became the most sought after girl of the orphanage. Every adolescent boy of the orphanage wanted to talk to her and consequently every girl of the orphanage envied her and did their best to avoid her. But Alice remained aloof from the drama of lust and envy that played out in the orphanage because she was obsessed with the dream of becoming the best food connoisseur of the world and nothing else mattered to her.
As Alice turned 18 and gained freedom from the inferno of orphanage, she had the perfect plan to conquer her dreams. For the first time, Alice decided to use her exceptional beauty to climb up the ladder to success. Her beauty helped her to find the perfect networks for her to navigate through the mire of the ruthless world. Her networks bagged her lucrative job of assistant chef at one of the elite restaurants of France. Though she gained her job through somewhat deceitful means but she was exceptionally good at her work. Her elite workplace widened her networks exponentially and it was here that she met the man who stole her heart and promised the world to her. He was a young Indian business mogul with enterprises in hospitality sector. He promised Alice the lucrative job of manager in one the five star hotels that he owns in India. Alice was drunk in euphoria. She was just a step away from achieving her dreams as well as marrying the prince charming of her life. Immediately, young, naive Alice accepted his proposal, resigned her job in France, packed her bags and flew to India with the love of her life.
India was as foreign to her as France was to her mother. But unlike her mother she was destined to rule in this foreign land, or so she believed. The man took Alice to an expensive hotel room, regaled her with exotic dishes, showered her with expensive gifts and one morning left her with a note saying, "Thank you for all the beautiful moments. Now, we must go our own ways." Alice smirked; she realized that along with a passion for food she had also inherited her mother's destiny of abandonment. But unlike her mother, she did not let adversity break her, she was determined to rebound with full force, or so she thought.
Once again her exotic beauty helped her find a job in the country obsessed with fair skin. But this time she wasn't as lucky to get the job of her choice in this populous third world country. She applied for jobs in kitchen but her employers wanted to cash in on her beauty and offered her jobs that involved dealing with customers such as that of waitress or receptionist. She knew that accepting the jobs that were being offered to her was her only fragile connection to exotic, gourmet food, and thus, half-heartedly she took up the job of receptionist in a five star hotel. She saw her dreams shattering before her eyes and proximity to gourmet dishes were the only solace to her beleaguered heart.
Her life as a receptionist involved dealing with a lot of pesky patrons with the broadest smile on her face. She was frequently accosted by men, who were undoubtedly allured by her beauty and there were many of them. Alice mostly ducked all the creepy and personal questions by saying that her employers forbid her from divulging any personal details. This trick worked for a while, but the men overwhelmed by lust, came up with a better plan to penetrate this defensive wall that she had built around her. To strike a chat with her, they asked her opinion about the gourmet food that the restaurant served. Though she could read the ulterior motive of their seemingly innocuous chats but she enjoyed giving her opinion about the exotic cuisines. Gradually, many patrons of the restaurant, without any ulterior motive sought her opinion on gourmet food and fine dining. She loved when someone came up to her and sought her opinion and this made her enjoy her job too. Her employers were impressed with her customer drawing skills and consequently, she got an appraisal.
To celebrate her success, she bought herself an expensive smartphone, with which she loved clicking delectable pictures of the variety of exquisite dishes that her workplace offered. Simultaneously, she unlocked the tempting world of internet where she can showcase her talent without revealing her true identity. The tempting, anonymous world of internet enabled her to resurrect her buried dreams, and thus the_snob_foodie was born. From its initial days, she nurtured her food blog, the_snob_foodie with her sweat and blood. With the_snob_foodie, her life found a new purpose. She posted the delectable pictures of exotic cuisines and people were drawn to her blog. Gradually, her followers increased and so did her importance in the fine dining circle. She never shied away from speaking her heart in her opinions about food, restaurants or customer service of hotels. Such honesty in the ocean of paid reviews earned her the respect and love of her followers. But even the anonymity of internet did not shield her from the lust of wealthy, powerful wolves. She received a lot of unsolicited proposals of all expense paid dates or even holidays. But this time she wasn't cowered down by wealth or power rather she decided to deceive them just like they had deceived gullible young girls since forever.
And this lead to the genesis of her bi-monthly date night contest, where she exploited the wealth of lust-inebriated wealthy men who were anyway too pleased to shower their wealth on her. On such date nights she masqueraded as a socialite belonging to the topmost rung of social hierarchy, so that the winners who were mostly powerful, wealthy men could not take undue advantage of her as they had done all her life. She enjoyed juggling the dual life of an ordinary receptionist and online celebrity. This new life taught Alice a lesson that dreams and love is sought by cowards who are ruthlessly crushed by the world, to make it big in life one needs to deceive the world or else the world wouldn't bate an eye before deceiving them. Her new founded belief turned her into a pessimist until on a date night she met a dreamy-eyed, fledgling young boy who did not think twice before spending all his prize money to fulfil a dream that would hardly last an evening. She saw in his eyes what pristine love and dreams looked like. In him, she found a pair of eyes that saw beyond her pretty face straight into her heart. That evening, her bitterness receded and she chose to look at the world through a kinder and softer prism. But, alas! The prism was too fragile to endure the brittleness of world.
The facade of her dual life came shattering down, when one of the winners of her bi-monthly contest spotted her working as a receptionist, clicked a snap of her without her consent and uploaded it on social media. The photo caused uproar in her social media world; her followers who thought her to be an elite socialite were appalled to see her working as a hotel receptionist. Alice reported the photo and it was taken down as soon as possible, but the damage was already done. The two million followers who once adulated her did not think twice before slut shaming her or trolling her. The number of followers on her Instagram food blog fell drastically. Her online followers were not contended with just online trolling; many of them flocked to her workplace to spit venom on her face. It became unbearable for Alice; she resigned her job and went off the grid. Her social media accounts were flooded with hate mails, no one missed any opportunity to let her know how hated she was, it seemed as if she became the most despised person on internet. But among the torrent of hatred, a small but powerful stream of love flowed from the heart of a young dreamy-eyed boy. But Alice turned away from this stream of love, she let the torrent of hatred drench her, for she was too broken to let love heal her. And, hence her resurrected dream, the_snob_foodie was abandoned forever.
Though Alice's heart was crushed to pieces but her stomach continued to do its job efficiently and demanded food for its efficiency. Penniless, jobless Alice realized she had to find a job to feed her over-efficient stomach. Her exquisite beauty once again came handy and helped her land a job. Due to her aristocratic look, she was offered the job of governess by a wealthy family. The job paid enough to sustain herself. And thus, for over a decade her job continued to sustain her efficient body though her crushed soul never mended. About 12 years ago, when she said to a dreamy-eyed boy sitting before her on an exquisite dining table that, "I live for my passion, and the day I will be separated from my passion I shall cease to live" it wasn't just a rhetoric to impress her guest, rather she had said it in earnest. Though it took her long, but she had finally realized that it is time to conclude her story. She had always been delusional to think that she is the author of her story; well, Destiny had mockingly given her the chance to conclude her story, at the very least.
So, this is the story of Alice Leroy. This is the story of abandonment, despair, loss, heart-break as well as dreams, resilience, strength, passion and love. This is the story of my heart; yes, my crushed heart poured out its story onto the paper. And this story of my broken heart I pass onto you, the dreamy eyed boy who taught me pristine love's joy.
Accept my story,
And bury it into the depths of your heart.
Take care of the memories of mine;
And let thy soul that brims with dreams shine.
A fellow dreamer,
Alice Leroy
After I received the call from Inspector Raunak Choudhary, I hurried to the police station. I had no idea why I was required here, since all my life I had maintained a respectful distance from the guardians of law. The thought of being involved in matters of law freaked me out, but today destiny had dragged me to the threshold of dread. After I reached the police station, I was ordered by the constables to wait in the visitors' area near the entrance. I have been waiting for nearly an hour but nobody has taken any notice of me.
I mustered up my courage and approached a constable who was busy with his mobile, "Excuse me sir, I have been asked by Inspector Raunak Choudhary to reach the police station as soon as possible. So, can I meet him?"
The constable, who was visibly annoyed by the interruption, almost shouted at me, "Who do you think you are? Are you the prime minister of India that you are ordering me to call the inspector so that you can have tea with him? I have no time for your nonsense as you can see I have lots of work to attend to. Now go away and let me do my work."
I got back to the creaky chair. Suddenly, an unsettling thought occurred to me. It might have been a hoax call; and some prankster must now be snickering at my foolishness and the brilliance of their prank. I was enraged with myself for being taken in by such a foolish prank. Just as I was considering calling back the number, the 'busy' constable who had just reproached me for wasting his time, called out, " Mr Aman Awasthi, you are ordered to go to the Inspector's room" and once again he was engrossed in his mobile.
I was shown the way to the Inspector's room by another constable. The nameplate on the door read 'INSPECTOR RAUNAK CHOUDHARY'. Meekly I knocked on the door and entered. Inside, I saw a man, probably in his 40s, dressed smartly in his khaki uniform perusing some piles of papers. I cleared my throat to draw his attention.
Looking up, he said in an officious tone, "You must be Aman Awasthi. I am sorry for the inconvenience caused to you, I may have sent someone to your house but I wanted to handle the matter personally. Please have a seat."
I sat on the visitor's chair adjacent to his own. I was bewildered by his words. I had no idea of what he was saying. I was too anxious to say anything. Seeing my anxiety he offered me a glass of water. After I gulped down the water, he handed me a white envelope and resumed his work. I took the envelope with shivering hands and stared at it. It was a plain white envelope with nothing on it, except for the centre. At the centre of the envelope my name along with my phone number was written in a neat cursive handwriting. I couldn't identify the handwriting; in fact, I couldn't make sense of anything that was happening. With shacking hands, I opened the envelope, as I was retrieving a letter from the inside; a wilted ocean blue lily fell on my lap. My whole body was shuddering as I picked up the wilted flower from my lap. The ocean blue lily looked eerily similar to the one I bought 12 years ago on my way to The Wide Canvas. As I kept the wilted flower on the desk, my stomach was churning, I felt I might throw up; I wanted to run away from all that was happening to me. I gulped down another glass of water. Slowly, I unfolded the letter and stared at it. It was written on a plain white sheet in the same neat cursive handwriting as on the envelope. My hands were shaking uncontrollably; somehow I steadied them and began reading the letter.
Dearest Aman,
I know I owe you an apology for snapping contact for 12 long years. But, let’s keep all complains, agonies, apologies aside for a while and lets just talk, like the night at The Wide Canvas 12 years ago. You might be wondering why I chose to write a letter that too after 12 years. It's because there are a lot of things that I want to confess. And more than any apology it's my confession that I owe you the most. Though it is somewhat ironic but I fervently wish that the phone number you gave me 12 years ago is still existent, for it is the only way to ensure that the letter find its way to you.
Today, when I sat at my desk to pour my heart out onto the letter, I realized what I have known all along, I don't have anyone to tell my story to. But no tears rolled down my eyes; no, don't be surprised, the reservoir of my tears had dried up ages ago. Letting out a long sigh, I opened the window and welcomed the cool evening breeze. I closed my eyes and let the evening zephyr caress my hair, regretting that my story will lay forever buried in my heart. Suddenly my brain reverted 12 years and I saw a meek young boy gazing intently into my eyes. Immediately, I opened my eyes, picked up the pen and scrawled your name on the paper, confidently.
So, Aman brace yourself, for I am not the Goddess you offered your heart to. Shall we begin from the beginning?
Alright then, four and a half decades ago a girl was born to an Indian immigrant woman, who worked at an elite restaurant in Paris. The girl was named Alice Leroy by her French father who also worked at the same elite restaurant. Alice and her family lived in the poorer sections of the city; nevertheless she had a happy childhood. Her hardworking parents wore themselves out to ensure a safe and secure future for her. But, there was a fault with Alice's destiny. When her destiny was being scrawled the nib of the pen broke before 'happiness' could be written. No efforts were made to correct the mistake and she was thus send to the world with a smudged, incomplete 'happiness'. So, when everything was seemingly normal and happy in little Alice's life, she encountered the first turmoil of her life which upset her world, quite literally. When little Alice was nine years old, her father abandoned her and her mother. Ostensibly, he went to his mistress who was far more beautiful and younger than Alice's mother. This tragic incident completely broke down her mother. She had no one to call her own except her little daughter in that foreign land and this realization mentally devastated her. Depression hit her hard and after a while she lost her job at the restaurant. Her mental condition deteriorated, she became a threat to her neighbours. She was taken to the mental asylum by the authorities, while little Alice was sent to an orphanage.
There at the orphanage, the juvenile inmates were deployed in various menial tasks that earned them the right to two square meals a day. Little Alice was deployed in the kitchen to assist the more experienced apprentices. It was the back-breaking work at the kitchen that helped Alice combat the sorrow that disrupted her life, because after the day's hard work she didn't have the energy to lament her loses or cry her heart out and as soon as she hit the bed she slipped into a deep slumber.
Her daily routine included little else than the back-breaking work at the orphanage's kitchen. But, she never minded it much because from an early age she had felt a strong affinity towards food, and as she spent more and more time of her day in the kitchen her bond with food strengthened further. Somehow, she believed that she was fated to be the best food connoisseur whose opinion would be the most sought after. It was indeed the greatest strength of her life that even in the face of toughest adversity, she never stopped dreaming big.
The denial of happiness was somehow compensated by the abundance of beauty that Destiny bestowed on her. As Alice stepped on the threshold of adolescence, she became aware of her cherubic beauty. Suddenly, she became the most sought after girl of the orphanage. Every adolescent boy of the orphanage wanted to talk to her and consequently every girl of the orphanage envied her and did their best to avoid her. But Alice remained aloof from the drama of lust and envy that played out in the orphanage because she was obsessed with the dream of becoming the best food connoisseur of the world and nothing else mattered to her.
As Alice turned 18 and gained freedom from the inferno of orphanage, she had the perfect plan to conquer her dreams. For the first time, Alice decided to use her exceptional beauty to climb up the ladder to success. Her beauty helped her to find the perfect networks for her to navigate through the mire of the ruthless world. Her networks bagged her lucrative job of assistant chef at one of the elite restaurants of France. Though she gained her job through somewhat deceitful means but she was exceptionally good at her work. Her elite workplace widened her networks exponentially and it was here that she met the man who stole her heart and promised the world to her. He was a young Indian business mogul with enterprises in hospitality sector. He promised Alice the lucrative job of manager in one the five star hotels that he owns in India. Alice was drunk in euphoria. She was just a step away from achieving her dreams as well as marrying the prince charming of her life. Immediately, young, naive Alice accepted his proposal, resigned her job in France, packed her bags and flew to India with the love of her life.
India was as foreign to her as France was to her mother. But unlike her mother she was destined to rule in this foreign land, or so she believed. The man took Alice to an expensive hotel room, regaled her with exotic dishes, showered her with expensive gifts and one morning left her with a note saying, "Thank you for all the beautiful moments. Now, we must go our own ways." Alice smirked; she realized that along with a passion for food she had also inherited her mother's destiny of abandonment. But unlike her mother, she did not let adversity break her, she was determined to rebound with full force, or so she thought.
Once again her exotic beauty helped her find a job in the country obsessed with fair skin. But this time she wasn't as lucky to get the job of her choice in this populous third world country. She applied for jobs in kitchen but her employers wanted to cash in on her beauty and offered her jobs that involved dealing with customers such as that of waitress or receptionist. She knew that accepting the jobs that were being offered to her was her only fragile connection to exotic, gourmet food, and thus, half-heartedly she took up the job of receptionist in a five star hotel. She saw her dreams shattering before her eyes and proximity to gourmet dishes were the only solace to her beleaguered heart.
Her life as a receptionist involved dealing with a lot of pesky patrons with the broadest smile on her face. She was frequently accosted by men, who were undoubtedly allured by her beauty and there were many of them. Alice mostly ducked all the creepy and personal questions by saying that her employers forbid her from divulging any personal details. This trick worked for a while, but the men overwhelmed by lust, came up with a better plan to penetrate this defensive wall that she had built around her. To strike a chat with her, they asked her opinion about the gourmet food that the restaurant served. Though she could read the ulterior motive of their seemingly innocuous chats but she enjoyed giving her opinion about the exotic cuisines. Gradually, many patrons of the restaurant, without any ulterior motive sought her opinion on gourmet food and fine dining. She loved when someone came up to her and sought her opinion and this made her enjoy her job too. Her employers were impressed with her customer drawing skills and consequently, she got an appraisal.
To celebrate her success, she bought herself an expensive smartphone, with which she loved clicking delectable pictures of the variety of exquisite dishes that her workplace offered. Simultaneously, she unlocked the tempting world of internet where she can showcase her talent without revealing her true identity. The tempting, anonymous world of internet enabled her to resurrect her buried dreams, and thus the_snob_foodie was born. From its initial days, she nurtured her food blog, the_snob_foodie with her sweat and blood. With the_snob_foodie, her life found a new purpose. She posted the delectable pictures of exotic cuisines and people were drawn to her blog. Gradually, her followers increased and so did her importance in the fine dining circle. She never shied away from speaking her heart in her opinions about food, restaurants or customer service of hotels. Such honesty in the ocean of paid reviews earned her the respect and love of her followers. But even the anonymity of internet did not shield her from the lust of wealthy, powerful wolves. She received a lot of unsolicited proposals of all expense paid dates or even holidays. But this time she wasn't cowered down by wealth or power rather she decided to deceive them just like they had deceived gullible young girls since forever.
And this lead to the genesis of her bi-monthly date night contest, where she exploited the wealth of lust-inebriated wealthy men who were anyway too pleased to shower their wealth on her. On such date nights she masqueraded as a socialite belonging to the topmost rung of social hierarchy, so that the winners who were mostly powerful, wealthy men could not take undue advantage of her as they had done all her life. She enjoyed juggling the dual life of an ordinary receptionist and online celebrity. This new life taught Alice a lesson that dreams and love is sought by cowards who are ruthlessly crushed by the world, to make it big in life one needs to deceive the world or else the world wouldn't bate an eye before deceiving them. Her new founded belief turned her into a pessimist until on a date night she met a dreamy-eyed, fledgling young boy who did not think twice before spending all his prize money to fulfil a dream that would hardly last an evening. She saw in his eyes what pristine love and dreams looked like. In him, she found a pair of eyes that saw beyond her pretty face straight into her heart. That evening, her bitterness receded and she chose to look at the world through a kinder and softer prism. But, alas! The prism was too fragile to endure the brittleness of world.
The facade of her dual life came shattering down, when one of the winners of her bi-monthly contest spotted her working as a receptionist, clicked a snap of her without her consent and uploaded it on social media. The photo caused uproar in her social media world; her followers who thought her to be an elite socialite were appalled to see her working as a hotel receptionist. Alice reported the photo and it was taken down as soon as possible, but the damage was already done. The two million followers who once adulated her did not think twice before slut shaming her or trolling her. The number of followers on her Instagram food blog fell drastically. Her online followers were not contended with just online trolling; many of them flocked to her workplace to spit venom on her face. It became unbearable for Alice; she resigned her job and went off the grid. Her social media accounts were flooded with hate mails, no one missed any opportunity to let her know how hated she was, it seemed as if she became the most despised person on internet. But among the torrent of hatred, a small but powerful stream of love flowed from the heart of a young dreamy-eyed boy. But Alice turned away from this stream of love, she let the torrent of hatred drench her, for she was too broken to let love heal her. And, hence her resurrected dream, the_snob_foodie was abandoned forever.
Though Alice's heart was crushed to pieces but her stomach continued to do its job efficiently and demanded food for its efficiency. Penniless, jobless Alice realized she had to find a job to feed her over-efficient stomach. Her exquisite beauty once again came handy and helped her land a job. Due to her aristocratic look, she was offered the job of governess by a wealthy family. The job paid enough to sustain herself. And thus, for over a decade her job continued to sustain her efficient body though her crushed soul never mended. About 12 years ago, when she said to a dreamy-eyed boy sitting before her on an exquisite dining table that, "I live for my passion, and the day I will be separated from my passion I shall cease to live" it wasn't just a rhetoric to impress her guest, rather she had said it in earnest. Though it took her long, but she had finally realized that it is time to conclude her story. She had always been delusional to think that she is the author of her story; well, Destiny had mockingly given her the chance to conclude her story, at the very least.
So, this is the story of Alice Leroy. This is the story of abandonment, despair, loss, heart-break as well as dreams, resilience, strength, passion and love. This is the story of my heart; yes, my crushed heart poured out its story onto the paper. And this story of my broken heart I pass onto you, the dreamy eyed boy who taught me pristine love's joy.
Accept my story,
And bury it into the depths of your heart.
Take care of the memories of mine;
And let thy soul that brims with dreams shine.
A fellow dreamer,
Alice Leroy
..........To be continued
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