Rama Moondra

I am a self confessing chocoholic. One can dip me in chocolate, bury me and still may find me alive and happily digging my own choc- grave.

Vienna that way proved my city of dreams. Though I had had my fair share of sinful addiction in Switzerland, yet Vienna tempted me a lot.

I am lucky to have friends in every city of the world. So, My Viennese friend Sybille Damir was keen to show me around as well give me a piece of Viennese arrogance laced with hint of hospitality.

We went to” Demel”. Unlike any other confectionery and coffee place, Demel is a culture in Vienna.

Empress Sissi liked to indulge in the sweets that were made here; Mr.Demel himself personally delivered the candied violets that she so loved, amongst other things, to the royal court at the Hofburg.

The not-so-privileged visitor to the Demel shop, which is set in the historic salons on the ground floor, has a choice of many varied and quite different products that have been poured, filled and formed by hand for over 200 years. Classics such as cat tongues, candied violets, tea scones and cakes and nougat mixtures adorn the showroom.

But the Show- stopper is Demel Sacher torte. The otherwise humble looking, sinfully tempting Piece of chocolate cake is served with its own seal of Originality. Served with warm, whipped cream by the side and milky latte to wash off with, I was almost on the gateway of heaven.

It got over soon, as all good things do…”  I am sure, the title “Paradise Lost” is written after the author saw this heavenly dessert vanishing.

When Sybille asked, “Why are you upset? Have some more though you can’t take it back home.” I sighed. After all, all heavenly things are banned, fattening or married to someone else and one can’t take them home.





My meeting with Sidharth Sood was just with any other stranger. Small café of Agartala, Tripura was buzzing with people on a cold, windy evening. With cappuccino and brownies in my hand, I looked around for a place to sit. Just one table had an empty chair. The other chair was occupied by a good looking, lost and quiet gentleman. I hesitantly asked if I could share the table. He agreed nodding. I quietly sipped my coffee without looking at my fellow sharer.

“Hi, I am Sidharth.” I looked up, smiled and introduced. “You sure are not from Tripura”. I agreed and we started talking. A discussion on North East soon shifted to personal travelling interests. Sidharth is travelling since three years. Indians usually are not so gypsy. Surprise must be written on my face, I am sure.

Sidharth’s story can be an old time bollywood favorite. Meeting a girl, loving and breaking up looked normal to me. The twist came with hint of tears moistening his eyes.

Sidharth gave one of his kidneys at the age of twenty-five to his ailing girlfriend. All set to marry after a year of courting, he came to know Suhani’s illness. “I have no future.” She said and Sid replied,” Without you, me neither.”

The surgery went well. Suhani recovered and then realized that the Doctor, who was treating her, was better bait.

Suhani is now Mrs. Suhani Bhagat. Happily married and moved on from her past. Sid is broken and shocked with harsh practicality the relationship showed.  Long three years now. He is moving from one place to another, taking meager jobs, trying to come to terms with life again and with the fact that he was just a scapegoat to get a kidney free of cost.

My call to Suhani was answered by her husband Dr Raheel Bhagat “You need to know why she married me..Just because she wanted Sid to be happy and not spend life in her treatment.” He said coyly. “You should be writing on me someday” He said.

To Sidharth Sood, Suhani Bhagat and to the love it once was. May god be with them in healing up.

(With permission from Sidharth and telephonic acceptance of Suhani.)