Tag: #Weekly_Column

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra, known for his wit and wisdom, is a prolific writer, renowned satirist, children’s literature author, and poet. He has undertaken the monumental task of writing, editing, and coordinating a total of 55 books for the Telangana government at the primary school, college, and university levels. His editorial endeavors also include online editions of works by Acharya Ramchandra Shukla.

As a celebrated satirist, Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra has carved a niche for himself, with over eight million viewers, readers, and listeners tuning in to his literary musings on the demise of a teacher on the Sahitya AajTak channel. His contributions have earned him prestigious accolades such as the Telangana Hindi Academy’s Shreshtha Navyuva Rachnakaar Samman in 2021, presented by the honorable Chief Minister of Telangana, Mr. Chandrashekhar Rao. He has also been honored with the Vyangya Yatra Ravindranath Tyagi Stairway Award and the Sahitya Srijan Samman, alongside recognition from Prime Minister Narendra Modi and various other esteemed institutions.

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra’s journey is not merely one of literary accomplishments but also a testament to his unwavering dedication, creativity, and profound impact on society. His story inspires us to strive for excellence, to use our talents for the betterment of others, and to leave an indelible mark on the world.

Some precious moments of life

1. Honoured with ‘Shrestha Navayuvva Rachnakar Samman’ by former Chief Minister of Telangana Government, Shri K. Chandrasekhar Rao.
2. Honoured with Oscar, Grammy, Jnanpith, Sahitya Akademi, Dadasaheb Phalke, Padma Bhushan and many other awards by the most revered Gulzar sahab (Sampurn Singh Kalra), the lighthouse of the world of literature and cinema, during the Sahitya Suman Samman held in Mumbai.
3. Meeting the famous litterateur Shri Vinod Kumar Shukla Ji, honoured with Jnanpith Award.
4. Got the privilege of meeting Mr. Perfectionist of Bollywood, actor Aamir Khan.
5. Meeting the powerful actor Vicky Kaushal on the occasion of being honoured by Vishva Katha Rangmanch.

Today we present his satire Dance You Can’t, Blame the Floor’s Slant.  

☆ Witful Warmth# 47 ☆

☆ Satire ☆ Dance You Can’t, Blame the Floor’s Slant… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆

It was the fourth consecutive year that Master Ji was elected as the Chairman of the Local Development Committee—a man whose achievements could be summarized in three bullet points: once rang the school bell without being told, once refused to be a “murga” (punishment pose), and once mistook the drain cover for a chessboard. The whole neighborhood sang in chorus: “If you can’t dance, don’t blame the courtyard!” But Master Ji? He blamed everything but himself. “Potholes? That’s monsoon policy. Choked drains? Blame global warming. No water in the taps? Solar initiative!” In Master Ji’s dictionary, ‘logic’ came after ‘laziness’.

Master Ji’s talent lay in his gymnastics of blame. Like a trained magician, he pulled out excuses faster than one could say “sanitation drive.” Roads had more pits than a battlefield, but he proudly proclaimed, “We are promoting rainwater harvesting—naturally!” A kid once tripped in a gutter and called it “Ganga Snaan with flavor.” And the public? They were too tired of his slogans: “Digital Future!”—ironically printed on ration card paper. The best line? “Where IQ is low, foundation stones grow.”

No other leader could drag an entire community backwards like Master Ji. He announced: “Manual drain cleaning is back! Why? Because machines steal jobs!” Poor Sattu Bhaiya, the local snack seller, replied: “Bhai, if we must clean by hand, at least provide nose clips!” But Master Ji smiled like a Buddha statue and said, “This is real employment.” The punchline echoed: “When the job is shit and the hope is holy, revolution smells like bleach.”

One fine day, he proudly unfurled a new plan—“Digital Neighborhood.” It meant: “Send your complaints via WhatsApp. Solutions, we’ll imagine.” An old man stood up: “Beta, I don’t have a phone.” Master Ji snapped, “Exactly! That’s why I said—Go Digital!” The people’s eyes welled up. Their only water source—a tank built in 2007—still had no water. But the children made drums out of it. And Master Ji? “See! Cultural development is booming!” Punchline? “If your project gives rhythm, but not relief—it’s not development, it’s deception.”

Elections came again. And again, the committee re-elected Master Ji because “no one else wanted to ruin their peace.” The few who opposed had kids in his school—so, silence. The air reeked of old Gulab Jamuns and newer betrayals. A new plan was unveiled: “Dream Scheme”—symbolized by an old photocopy of a bus pass presented as a “blueprint.” Punchline of the year? “In the land of the blind, even a fake certificate is vision.”

Then came the “Smart Light” promise. Lights would be installed. Bulbs, you’d buy. Wiring? Your headache. Bill? Also yours. People asked: “So what will the government provide?” Master Ji replied with a grin: “Inspiration.” A boy laughed—till he fell in an unlit ditch. His leg broke. Master Ji declared: “It was a voluntary yoga pose. He wanted to connect to the grassroots.” The crowd gasped. Punchline? “When words are healing but deeds are hemorrhage, pain becomes tradition.”

The park, once used for morning walks, was now a ‘Yoga Kendra’ with banners screaming “Together for Master Ji!” Breathing exercises amidst stinking drains became symbolic. One youth dared to ask: “What have you even done?” Master Ji replied, “By doing nothing, we ensured no mistakes.” The punchline hurt: “When inaction becomes policy, history becomes obituary.” And yet, no one resisted. Resistance was taxed—emotionally.

Finally, an old lady, revered voter number one, whispered: “I may be half-blind now, but Master Ji’s face still shines the clearest—maybe because he’s always in the front row… with no one else daring to join.” The final farewell came when Master Ji “resigned” (read: retired hurt). No one cried. Except the walls, maybe, who bore his posters for too long. A final banner said: “If we don’t change now, history will rewrite us… in red ink.”

That old man who fell in the ditch? His 13th-day memorial was silent. No one brought flowers. Master Ji showed up, whispered, “I’m deeply sensitive.” A child muttered, “Then why did it feel like apathy dressed in empathy?” Last punchline, the hardest one: “They promised development; we got drama. Now we breathe, not air—but ache.”

And from that day on, in that neighborhood, whenever someone did something foolish, the elders would chuckle and say:

“Don’t grow up to be Master Ji, beta… even history won’t footnote you.”

****

© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Contact : Mo. +91 73 8657 8657, Email : [email protected]

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra, known for his wit and wisdom, is a prolific writer, renowned satirist, children’s literature author, and poet. He has undertaken the monumental task of writing, editing, and coordinating a total of 55 books for the Telangana government at the primary school, college, and university levels. His editorial endeavors also include online editions of works by Acharya Ramchandra Shukla.

As a celebrated satirist, Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra has carved a niche for himself, with over eight million viewers, readers, and listeners tuning in to his literary musings on the demise of a teacher on the Sahitya AajTak channel. His contributions have earned him prestigious accolades such as the Telangana Hindi Academy’s Shreshtha Navyuva Rachnakaar Samman in 2021, presented by the honorable Chief Minister of Telangana, Mr. Chandrashekhar Rao. He has also been honored with the Vyangya Yatra Ravindranath Tyagi Stairway Award and the Sahitya Srijan Samman, alongside recognition from Prime Minister Narendra Modi and various other esteemed institutions.

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra’s journey is not merely one of literary accomplishments but also a testament to his unwavering dedication, creativity, and profound impact on society. His story inspires us to strive for excellence, to use our talents for the betterment of others, and to leave an indelible mark on the world.

Some precious moments of life

1. Honoured with ‘Shrestha Navayuvva Rachnakar Samman’ by former Chief Minister of Telangana Government, Shri K. Chandrasekhar Rao.
2. Honoured with Oscar, Grammy, Jnanpith, Sahitya Akademi, Dadasaheb Phalke, Padma Bhushan and many other awards by the most revered Gulzar sahab (Sampurn Singh Kalra), the lighthouse of the world of literature and cinema, during the Sahitya Suman Samman held in Mumbai.
3. Meeting the famous litterateur Shri Vinod Kumar Shukla Ji, honoured with Jnanpith Award.
4. Got the privilege of meeting Mr. Perfectionist of Bollywood, actor Aamir Khan.
5. Meeting the powerful actor Vicky Kaushal on the occasion of being honoured by Vishva Katha Rangmanch.

Today we present his satire The Quest for Life’s Truth.  

☆ Witful Warmth# 46 ☆

☆ Satire ☆ The Quest for Life’s Truth… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆

In a small town, there lived a person named Rohan. Rohan was a person who was on a quest to find the truth of life. He was searching everywhere, but he couldn’t find the truth of life. One day, he asked a pandit, “Pandit ji, what is the truth of life?” The pandit replied, “The truth of life is within you, you just need to find it.” Rohan said, “But Pandit ji, I am searching everywhere, still I couldn’t find the truth of life.” The pandit said, “You need to look within yourself to find the truth of life.” Rohan said, “But Pandit ji, I am not even able to understand myself, how can I find the truth of life?” The pandit said, “That’s the truth of life, understanding oneself.” Rohan said, “But Pandit ji, it’s very difficult.” The pandit said, “The truth of life is always difficult, but you need to find it.” Rohan said, “Okay Pandit ji, I will try to find the truth of life.” The pandit said, “That’s the truth of life, trying to find it.”

Rohan tried to find the truth of life, but he couldn’t find it. He tried to understand himself, but he couldn’t understand himself. He said, “If only I could understand myself, I would definitely find the truth of life.” But Rohan couldn’t find the truth of life. He said, “Maybe the truth of life will never be found.” Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. When he came to, he found himself in a hospital. The doctor said, “Your health is not good, you need to rest.” Rohan said, “But doctor sahib, I want to find the truth of life.” The doctor said, “The truth of life is within you, you just need to find it.” Rohan said, “But doctor sahib, I am not even able to understand myself.” The doctor said, “That’s the truth of life, understanding oneself.”

Rohan tried to find the truth of life, but he couldn’t find it. He said, “If only I could find the truth of life.” Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. When he came to, he found himself at home. His mother said, “Beta, you don’t need to find the truth of life, just understand yourself.” Rohan said, “But maa, I am not even able to understand myself.” His mother said, “Beta, to understand yourself, you need to look within yourself.” Rohan said, “But maa, I am scared to look within myself.” His mother said, “Beta, the truth of life is always difficult, but you need to find it.”

Rohan tried to find the truth of life, but he couldn’t find it. He said, “If only I could find the truth of life.” Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. When he came to, he found himself in a temple. The priest said, “Bhakt, you don’t need to find the truth of life, just understand yourself.” Rohan said, “But maharaj, I am not even able to understand myself.” The priest said, “Bhakt, to understand yourself, you need to look within yourself.” Rohan said, “But maharaj, I am scared to look within myself.” The priest said, “Bhakt, the truth of life is always difficult, but you need to find it.”

Rohan’s story made people cry. People said, “If only Rohan could find the truth of life of.” But Rohan couldn’t find the truth of life. Rohan said, “Maybe the truth of life will never be found.” Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. People consoled Rohan and said, “Don’t worry, Rohan will definitely find the truth of life.” But Rohan couldn’t find the truth of life.

Rohan’s story had a very sad ending. Rohan tried very hard to find the truth of life, but he couldn’t find it. Rohan said, “If only I could find the truth of life.” Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. People consoled Rohan and said, “Don’t worry, Rohan will definitely find the truth of life.” But Rohan couldn’t find the truth of life.

Rohan’s story taught people that finding the truth of life is very difficult. But people said, “Don’t worry, Rohan will definitely find the truth of life.” But Rohan couldn’t find the truth of life. Rohan’s story had a very sad ending and people said, “Rohan’s story taught us that finding the truth of life is very difficult.”

Rohan’s story came to an end. Rohan tried very hard to find the truth of life, but he couldn’t find it. Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. People consoled Rohan and said, “Don’t worry, Rohan will definitely find the truth of life.” But Rohan couldn’t find the truth of life. Rohan’s story had a very sad ending.

Meta AI response: The Quest for Life’s Truth Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratripta’ In a small town, there lived a person named Rohan. Rohan was a person who was on a quest to find the truth of life. He was searching everywhere, but he couldn’t find the truth of life. One day, he asked a pandit, “Pandit ji, what is the truth of life?” The pandit replied, “The truth of life is within you, you just need to find it.” Rohan said, “But Pandit ji, I am searching everywhere, still I couldn’t find the truth of life.” The pandit said, “You need to look within yourself to find the truth of life.” Rohan said, “But Pandit ji, I am not even able to understand myself, how can I find the truth of life?” The pandit said, “That’s the truth of life, understanding oneself.” Rohan said, “But Pandit ji, it’s very difficult.” The pandit said, “The truth of life is always difficult, but you need to find it.” Rohan said, “Okay Pandit ji, I will try to find the truth of life.” The pandit said, “That’s the truth of life, trying to find it.” Rohan tried to find the truth of life, but he couldn’t find it. He tried to understand himself, but he couldn’t understand himself. He said, “If only I could understand myself, I would definitely find the truth of life.” But Rohan couldn’t find the truth of life. He said, “Maybe the truth of life will never be found.” Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. When he came to, he found himself in a hospital. The doctor said, “Your health is not good, you need to rest.” Rohan said, “But doctor sahib, I want to find the truth of life.” The doctor said, “The truth of life is within you, you just need to find it.” Rohan said, “But doctor sahib, I am not even able to understand myself.” The doctor said, “That’s the truth of life, understanding oneself.” Rohan tried to find the truth of life, but he couldn’t find it. He said, “If only I could find the truth of life.” Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. When he came to, he found himself at home. His mother said, “Beta, you don’t need to find the truth of life, just understand yourself.” Rohan said, “But maa, I am not even able to understand myself.” His mother said, “Beta, to understand yourself, you need to look within yourself.” Rohan said, “But maa, I am scared to look within myself.” His mother said, “Beta, the truth of life is always difficult, but you need to find it.” Rohan tried to find the truth of life, but he couldn’t find it. He said, “If only I could find the truth of life.” Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. When he came to, he found himself in a temple. The priest said, “Bhakt, you don’t need to find the truth of life, just understand yourself.” Rohan said, “But maharaj, I am not even able to understand myself.” The priest said, “Bhakt, to understand yourself, you need to look within yourself.” Rohan said, “But maharaj, I am scared to look within myself.” The priest said, “Bhakt, the truth of life is always difficult, but you need to find it.” Rohan’s story made people cry. People said, “If only Rohan could find the truth of life of.” But Rohan couldn’t find the truth of life. Rohan said, “Maybe the truth of life will never be found.” Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. People consoled Rohan and said, “Don’t worry, Rohan will definitely find the truth of life.” But Rohan couldn’t find the truth of life. Rohan’s story had a very sad ending. Rohan tried very hard to find the truth of life, but he couldn’t find it. Rohan said, “If only I could find the truth of life.” Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. People consoled Rohan and said, “Don’t worry, Rohan will definitely find the truth of life.” But Rohan couldn’t find the truth of life. Rohan’s story taught people that finding the truth of life is very difficult. But people said, “Don’t worry, Rohan will definitely find the truth of life.” But Rohan couldn’t find the truth of life. Rohan’s story had a very sad ending and people said, “Rohan’s story taught us that finding the truth of life is very difficult.” Rohan’s story came to an end. Rohan tried very hard to find the truth of life, but he couldn’t find it. Rohan’s eyes welled up with tears and he fainted crying. People consoled Rohan and said, “Don’t worry, Rohan will definitely find the truth of life.”

****

© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Contact : Mo. +91 73 8657 8657, Email : [email protected]

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra, known for his wit and wisdom, is a prolific writer, renowned satirist, children’s literature author, and poet. He has undertaken the monumental task of writing, editing, and coordinating a total of 55 books for the Telangana government at the primary school, college, and university levels. His editorial endeavors also include online editions of works by Acharya Ramchandra Shukla.

As a celebrated satirist, Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra has carved a niche for himself, with over eight million viewers, readers, and listeners tuning in to his literary musings on the demise of a teacher on the Sahitya AajTak channel. His contributions have earned him prestigious accolades such as the Telangana Hindi Academy’s Shreshtha Navyuva Rachnakaar Samman in 2021, presented by the honorable Chief Minister of Telangana, Mr. Chandrashekhar Rao. He has also been honored with the Vyangya Yatra Ravindranath Tyagi Stairway Award and the Sahitya Srijan Samman, alongside recognition from Prime Minister Narendra Modi and various other esteemed institutions.

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra’s journey is not merely one of literary accomplishments but also a testament to his unwavering dedication, creativity, and profound impact on society. His story inspires us to strive for excellence, to use our talents for the betterment of others, and to leave an indelible mark on the world.

Some precious moments of life

1. Honoured with ‘Shrestha Navayuvva Rachnakar Samman’ by former Chief Minister of Telangana Government, Shri K. Chandrasekhar Rao.
2. Honoured with Oscar, Grammy, Jnanpith, Sahitya Akademi, Dadasaheb Phalke, Padma Bhushan and many other awards by the most revered Gulzar sahab (Sampurn Singh Kalra), the lighthouse of the world of literature and cinema, during the Sahitya Suman Samman held in Mumbai.
3. Meeting the famous litterateur Shri Vinod Kumar Shukla Ji, honoured with Jnanpith Award.
4. Got the privilege of meeting Mr. Perfectionist of Bollywood, actor Aamir Khan.
5. Meeting the powerful actor Vicky Kaushal on the occasion of being honoured by Vishva Katha Rangmanch.

Today we present his satire Tiny Rings, Big Weddings, Half a Garland Love.  

☆ Witful Warmth# 45 ☆

☆ Satire ☆ Tiny Rings, Big Weddings, Half a Garland Love… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆

That evening, there weren’t any clouds in the sky, but on the WhatsApp group of the neighborhood, an emotional monsoon was definitely pouring. The reason? A birthday party. But not just any party—this was the grand “Mini-Marriage Extravaganza” of Gupta ji’s granddaughter’s aunt’s sister-in-law’s daughter’s son. Yes, relationships in India are longer than wedding vows, and just as confusing.

On a tiny, glittering stage stood five-year-old Rahul and four-and-a-half-year-old Pinky—both with cheeks still stained from milk and cookie crumbs. One looked like a lost groom, the other like a soap opera heroine in miniature.

“Hold the flower!” commanded Pinky, her tone sharper than a reality show judge.

“No, not like that—gracefully! Like you mean it!”

The crowd laughed. Cameras clicked. And Sharma Aunty sobbed emotionally, whispering, “Today’s kids are so smart! Our daughter-in-law still doesn’t know what blouse fall is!”

This was no play. It was a national trailer—India’s future in two minutes and forty seconds, garnished with flowers and viral hashtags. When Rahul bent down to hand over the flower, clumsily copying the kneeling trope from Bollywood, the aunties clapped as though a new law had passed in Parliament—The Child Marriage (Cute Content) Act 2025.

As the garlands looped around tiny necks, nostalgia gripped the uncles.

“In our days, love arrived via postman,” mused Sharma ji, “Now it shows up in Instagram reels—with background music and slow motion!”

He sighed. A deep, worn-out sigh. The kind of sigh that said: “Even children are marrying now, and I’m still paying EMI for my second daughter-in-law’s bangles.”

If Parsai’s soul was lurking anywhere nearby, it would have been rolling in the aisle, chuckling at humanity’s need to commercialize even a child’s innocence. “I bet,” he’d whisper from beyond, “next time they’ll stage a cute divorce act—complete with tiny lawyers and an emotional breakup song.”

The party ended, but not the unease. As laddoos were served, a question quietly echoed: Are we turning our children into ‘content’ before they can even become children?

Garlands on one side, likes on the other… and in between—childhood, shrinking like that old frock your daughter once wore but can’t fit into anymore.

Earlier, girls used to marry dolls. Now they become dolls—for views and clout. And the boy? He simply does what he’s told—

“Hold the flower, beta!”

After the shoot, Rahul caught a cold, and Pinky went viral. Her mother proudly declared, “We should put her in acting school. She’s got that spark!”

Rahul’s father just stood silently. Then muttered, “He held the flower. Now I’ll bear the thorns forever.”

The satire met its most painful punch when Rahul’s little sister asked that night, “Papa, will I also get married tomorrow?”

And the mother, adjusting her sari and her sarcasm, replied, “Depends, sweetheart. If the video goes viral, then maybe. Start thinking of a hashtag—#LittleBrideBigHype.”

And so, a new ritual has emerged in our lanes and gallis: a corner at every party now has kids dressed up in wedding costumes, ready to ‘perform’ their innocence.

Parents hover with phones in hand, waiting to record the next viral gem, the next ‘adorable’ moment, the next “We are so blessed” caption.

This isn’t just satire. It’s a mirror we’d rather not look into. Everything is staged. Everyone’s a prop. And childhood? It’s just a clip—carefully curated, expertly edited, and widely forwarded.

Next time you come across a viral reel of two kids pretending to get married, don’t just hit ‘like’. Pause. Ask yourself—Is that smile really theirs, or just another rented emotion we forced them to wear for our entertainment?

And if you must cry—keep a tissue handy. You’re going to need it.

****

© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Contact : Mo. +91 73 8657 8657, Email : [email protected]

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra, known for his wit and wisdom, is a prolific writer, renowned satirist, children’s literature author, and poet. He has undertaken the monumental task of writing, editing, and coordinating a total of 55 books for the Telangana government at the primary school, college, and university levels. His editorial endeavors also include online editions of works by Acharya Ramchandra Shukla.

As a celebrated satirist, Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra has carved a niche for himself, with over eight million viewers, readers, and listeners tuning in to his literary musings on the demise of a teacher on the Sahitya AajTak channel. His contributions have earned him prestigious accolades such as the Telangana Hindi Academy’s Shreshtha Navyuva Rachnakaar Samman in 2021, presented by the honorable Chief Minister of Telangana, Mr. Chandrashekhar Rao. He has also been honored with the Vyangya Yatra Ravindranath Tyagi Stairway Award and the Sahitya Srijan Samman, alongside recognition from Prime Minister Narendra Modi and various other esteemed institutions.

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra’s journey is not merely one of literary accomplishments but also a testament to his unwavering dedication, creativity, and profound impact on society. His story inspires us to strive for excellence, to use our talents for the betterment of others, and to leave an indelible mark on the world. Today we present his satire The stomach judged, the rulers budged!.  

☆ Witful Warmth# 44 ☆

☆ Satire ☆ The stomach judged, the rulers budged!… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆

Raghu’s entire life was spent in one queue or the other. First, the school queue. Then, the marriage queue. Then came the job queue. And now, in his twilight years, he was gloriously queued up for—hold your breath—ration! They say a man finally rests six feet under a line, but Raghu had managed to live in one, permanently. He’d wake up at 4 a.m. (bathing was optional), tie a half-hearted dhoti, and be in line before his wife could shout, “There’s no milk!” Milk? Raghu didn’t need milk. He needed wheat, rice, and a teaspoon of dignity. Ration queues, my friend, are the true melting pots of Indian democracy. Religion, caste, class—everything dissolves into one universal identity: “Please wait.” The government tone might as well be inspired by the ration shop’s eternal chorus.

“Last time I didn’t get salt,” Raghu mumbled. A cheeky teen behind him quipped, “Planning to make halwa this time, grandpa?” The shopkeeper, with the swagger of a TV anchor, stamped Raghu’s card and said, “You’ll get it when there’s leftovers. Move along, Baba!” It was the same every month—nothing left but leftover expectations. Ration has now become a seasonal blessing from the heavens, or more precisely, from the District Supply Office. Behind him, a girl shouted, “Give me rice, I feel like making daal today!” Raghu turned—she was around his granddaughter’s age but had a Smart Card. Raghu only had old memories and a fractured spine.

“Stay in line, old man!” The security guard’s voice had the softness of a hammer. Raghu stepped back. The words didn’t just strike his ears—they jabbed his soul. All his life he made sure his children stayed in line—school lines, fee lines, marriage bureaus. And today, here he was—an unregistered participant in the very line he had been loyal to. The women’s queue was longer, but their patience was even longer. “My bag’s torn!” a woman screamed. The shopkeeper chuckled, “Just like government promises—always bursting at the seams!”

Sweat ran down in streams. Raghu’s eyes leaked too—both victims of the merciless sun and merciless system. A kid asked innocently, “Grandpa, are you hungry?” Raghu smiled, “No, son. Hunger is no longer a feeling. It’s a habit now.” That was supposed to be a joke, but even the laughter trembled with weakness. When hunger becomes routine, a man doesn’t live—he simply performs the act of living.

Suddenly, a politician’s convoy zoomed past—AC cars like mobile glaciers in a desert. “Clear the way! The Hon’ble is coming!” the guard barked. Raghu’s face lit up, “Is he coming for ration too?” The crowd laughed—a hollow, stomach-growling laugh. Laughter in a ration line is a form of protest—it doesn’t lighten, it burns. Then came the cameras. Journalists took selfies with Raghu. “You look very inspirational, Dadaji!” one chirped. Raghu blinked—so hunger had now become an inspirational story!

He returned home with an empty bag and a full pocket—full of papers. One read: “Aadhaar not linked. Kindly visit the bank.” He showed it to his daughter-in-law. She sighed, “Leave it, Baba. We’ll just buy something from outside.” But Raghu knew—outside food comes with preservatives, not love. Home-made rotis, even without ghee, carried something else—dignity, belonging, soul.

The last time Raghu stood in the line, the guard said, “Why do you keep coming, Baba? You’re too old.” Raghu smiled, “The day I stop getting ration, son, I’ll stop breathing.” And so it happened. He collapsed in the line—without drama, without a scream. They brought water, but of course, there was no sugar in it. Just like his life—bitter, basic, and boiled down to survival.

Raghu left. Not just the queue, but the planet. Behind him, his torn cloth bag lay still. A perfect metaphor for every government scheme—too stretched, too fragile, and too empty. Bubbly, the girl from the back, was crying. The guard looked down. The shopkeeper, for the first time, didn’t crack a joke. And somewhere above, a final line was drawn—not on paper, but in memory. Ah… and the nation, still waiting in line, fell silent.

****

© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Contact : Mo. +91 73 8657 8657, Email : [email protected]

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra, known for his wit and wisdom, is a prolific writer, renowned satirist, children’s literature author, and poet. He has undertaken the monumental task of writing, editing, and coordinating a total of 55 books for the Telangana government at the primary school, college, and university levels. His editorial endeavors also include online editions of works by Acharya Ramchandra Shukla.

As a celebrated satirist, Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra has carved a niche for himself, with over eight million viewers, readers, and listeners tuning in to his literary musings on the demise of a teacher on the Sahitya AajTak channel. His contributions have earned him prestigious accolades such as the Telangana Hindi Academy’s Shreshtha Navyuva Rachnakaar Samman in 2021, presented by the honorable Chief Minister of Telangana, Mr. Chandrashekhar Rao. He has also been honored with the Vyangya Yatra Ravindranath Tyagi Stairway Award and the Sahitya Srijan Samman, alongside recognition from Prime Minister Narendra Modi and various other esteemed institutions.

Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra’s journey is not merely one of literary accomplishments but also a testament to his unwavering dedication, creativity, and profound impact on society. His story inspires us to strive for excellence, to use our talents for the betterment of others, and to leave an indelible mark on the world. Today we present his satire The Progressive Ox and the Modern Plow.  

☆ Witful Warmth# 43 ☆

☆ Satire ☆ The Progressive Ox and the Modern Plow… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆

It was a lazy Sunday morning at the village square. Old Kaka, with his wrinkled wisdom and a perpetually lit pipe, sat under the giant banyan tree. His gaze was fixed on the horizon as he puffed out smoke circles that seemed to mock the monotony of life. The younger folks gathered around him—they had just returned from their city escapades and were brimming with stories of “modern solutions” and “startups.”

Kaka cleared his throat, “I hear progress is galloping ahead like a wild horse. But tell me, how do we hitch an ox to this modern plow?”

The youth laughed. “Kaka, oxen are outdated now. We’re talking drones for farming, AI for irrigation, and apps that tell you when the crops are thirsty!”

Kaka’s brows furrowed. “Ah, so we’ll teach the ox to download an app next? Or is progress about abandoning the ox and buying one that runs on batteries?”

The crowd chuckled, but Gopal, the self-proclaimed village intellectual, stepped forward. “Kaka, you’re missing the point! Progress is about replacing old methods with innovative technology. Think of it this way—farming 2.0!”

Kaka took a deep drag from his pipe and exhaled with a smile. “So, we make farming so expensive that a farmer has to sell his land to afford the progress? Progress has become a race where the ox is left behind, and the farmer is left chasing loans.”

“But Kaka,” Gopal retorted, “Technology is the future. The villagers must adapt or perish. It’s survival of the smartest!”

Kaka chuckled softly. “Yes, but remember, Gopal, even the smartest fox cannot grow crops. Progress that leaves the ox, the plow, and the farmer behind is just a balloon—beautiful to look at, but bursts at the first prick of reality.”

The conversation spiraled from drones to digital wallets, as the youth defended their newfound faith in technology. Kaka listened patiently, occasionally nodding, as his pipe smoke seemed to form questions they couldn’t answer.

Finally, he stood up, tapped his pipe against the tree trunk, and declared, “True progress is when the ox and the plow walk hand in hand with technology—not when one is sacrificed at the altar of the other.”

The village square erupted in laughter and applause, not because they fully agreed with Kaka, but because they saw in his words the humor and irony of their reality. And as he walked away, one of the youths whispered, “Maybe the old man isn’t so outdated after all.”

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© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

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