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
- Honoured with ‘Shrestha Navayuvva Rachnakar Samman’ by former Chief Minister of Telangana Government, Shri K. Chandrasekhar Rao.
- 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.
- Meeting the famous litterateur Shri Vinod Kumar Shukla Ji, honoured with Jnanpith Award.
- Got the privilege of meeting Mr. Perfectionist of Bollywood, actor Aamir Khan.
- Meeting the powerful actor Vicky Kaushal on the occasion of being honoured by Vishva Katha Rangmanch.
Today we present his Satire – All Lines on This Route Are Busy.
☆ Witful Warmth# 75 ☆
☆ Satire ☆ All Lines on This Route Are Busy… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆
Talking before marriage and tea leaves have one thing in common. In the beginning, both show a lot of color. The fragrance is so strong that the whole neighborhood knows something is boiling. But slowly, time passes, and those same tea leaves look like dry grass left in the corner of a utensil. The same thing happened between us.
The man who promised to stay with me for seven lifetimes during our wedding rounds locked himself inside a screen in just seven months. Now, when he comes home, he just lies on the sofa and keeps moving his thumb. That 15-second world of Instagram reels has become more valuable than my entire life. His fingers slide on the screen like a magician flipping playing cards. I sit next to him holding a cup of tea and keep looking at him, but his eyes never wander from the phone. It feels like I am just a piece of old furniture in that house, covered in dust, which no one even wants to bother moving.
One day I said, “Listen, I need to talk to you.” Without looking up, he said, “I am busy right now, we will see later.” This “later” never comes. When a man pretends to be busy, he is actually running away from his responsibilities. To break the silence of this loneliness, I found a new way. I would call my own number from my own mobile phone. When the voice from the other side said, “The number you have dialed is currently busy,” a strange peace would fill my heart. At least someone was saying that I was busy. Someone was noticing my presence, even if it was just a computer’s recorded voice. This was the biggest sadness of my life—that I had to use my own number to convince myself that I existed in this world.
Just then, a new young man came to live in front of our house. He was two years younger than me, and perhaps that is why he was far away from the clever tricks of the world. He understood my loneliness just by looking at the sadness on my face. While the master of the house was busy scrolling reels on the sofa, that boy was reading my silence. When my husband was not home, he would visit my house on the excuse of asking for salt or tea leaves. There was a strange kindness in his eyes, which felt like a cool shower of rain in my desert-like life. One day, during a conversation, he told me very simply that he was not married yet. I felt that God had sent him to the house opposite mine just to end my loneliness.
As we started meeting more often, the dried-up river inside me began to flood with life again. Every time I planned to run away with him from this suffocating life, he would smile and say, “Don’t rush. Let’s make a plan tomorrow.” I thought he was saying this for our safety. A man’s “tomorrow” sometimes becomes a woman’s lifelong wait. He would make an excuse every time, and I would come back to sit at the edge of the same sofa next to the reels. When love is received in small bits, its value increases even more. I was passing my days with the help of his false hope, telling myself that one day this darkness would go away.
One day, he suddenly came to me on his own and said, “Tomorrow we will go far away forever. Pack your bags and be ready.” That day, I felt like my years of prayer had finally answered. I quietly took out my favorite sarees from the cupboard and started packing them in a suitcase. In the next room, my husband was laughing loudly while watching a prank video on his mobile. His laughter stabbed my ears like a sharp nail. I felt pity for that man, who did not even know that the ground was slipping from under his feet. I packed the bitterest truth of my life into a bag and began waiting for the morning that was going to witness my departure.
When I reached his house with all my bags packed, he had already left. A lock was hanging on the door of the house opposite mine, and only dust was flying around. My breath got stuck in my throat, and the suitcase fell from my hand to the ground. When I didn’t see anyone around, I asked a shopkeeper nearby about him. The truth told by the shopkeeper completely shook me. The shopkeeper spat his tobacco and said very casually, “Oh, he was married. His wife lives in Bengaluru, and she came early this morning to pick him up. Both left by the first bus.”
Hearing this, everything inside me shattered. The boy whom I thought to be the savior of my loneliness was nothing but a cheat. He was just using the tea leaves and salt of my house to pass his free time. What could be a more horrible form of heartbreak than this? The person I thought was my way to freedom had pushed me into a deeper well. I sat on the doorstep of that empty house and started laughing because I ran out of tears to cry. The whole game was just about passing time—whether it was watching reels or asking for salt in the neighborhood.
With shaking hands, I picked up my suitcase and walked back toward my old house, where silence was waiting for me. The main door was open, and the sounds of the same reels were still coming from the sofa. My husband didn’t even look at me. While looking at the screen, he said, “Oh, you are back? Just check if we are out of salt.” Without saying anything, I looked toward the kitchen where the salt container was already half-full. I understood that in this world, everyone is busy with their own screens and their own stories, and other people’s emotions are just a source of entertainment.
I took out my phone and dialed my own number again. The same familiar voice came from the other side, saying that the number you have dialed is busy. I kept the phone pressed against my ear and started feeling the comfort of that busy tone. Now I was completely sure that in this selfish and fake world, only my own number was there which would never betray my loneliness, even if it always pretended to be busy. This final goodbye to love had made me completely self-reliant.
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© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’
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