Category: Articles

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 Plunder of Power, The Death of Truth, The Wound of Democracy!  

☆ Witful Warmth# 36 ☆

☆ Satire ☆ The Plunder of Power, The Death of Truth, The Wound of Democracy!… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆

The village was in a terrible state. No, no, don’t misunderstand—it wasn’t famine, farmers weren’t hanging themselves from banyan trees, unemployment wasn’t at its peak, and children weren’t dying of malnutrition. Nothing of the sort. In fact, the village was “developing!” And by development, I mean that every street was adorned with election posters, every corner was occupied by leaders yelling about progress until their throats went dry, and every wall had freshly painted slogans—“Development for All!”

Two candidates were in the race for the position of Village Head—Chaudhary Ramlal and Thakur Baldev. The villagers knew their “illustrious” pasts all too well. Last time, Ramlal had won the elections and then vanished like morning mist, reappearing only five years later to remind the village that he still existed. During his campaign, he had installed streetlights across the village. The moment the election was over, those lights flickered out, just like his promises.

Thakur Baldev, on the other hand, had an even grander vision. His only agenda was, “I’ll turn this village into a city!” He never mentioned the lack of schools, hospitals, clean water, or roads. But he did promise one thing—a liquor shop of premium quality.

The day of the elections arrived. The “sovereign” people walked towards the polling booths, their choices well-secured in their pockets. Some received a bottle of whiskey, others a saree, and the more privileged ones had a crisp 500-rupee note folded into their palms. The elders were made to swear on their ancestors that they would vote for the right candidate—for the “future” of the village.

The votes were cast, the counting began, and in the grand tradition of democracy, the one who could pull off the biggest fraud won. Thakur Baldev was declared the new Village Head.

Celebrations erupted in the village. Crackers exploded, drums thundered, and sweets were distributed. Thakur Baldev, reveling in his victory, roared, “Now, I’ll transform this village into a city!” The crowd cheered, clapped, and then returned to their crumbling homes. By the next morning, the village was back to its original state—broken roads, dry handpumps, locked schools, an abandoned hospital—but discussions on development were at an all-time high.

Within the first week, new government schemes were announced. Ten lakh rupees were sanctioned for the renovation of the Panchayat office, but somehow, the building deteriorated even further. A digital board was installed in the school, though there was no teacher to use it. Funds were allocated to repair the village drains, but the money mysteriously found its way into the Village Head’s personal treasury. The wheel of progress spun so fast that the people couldn’t keep up with it.

Some innocent villagers dared to ask questions. They were quickly told, “You wouldn’t understand. This is democracy!”

A few educated youths tried to hold the Village Head accountable. Thakur Baldev greeted them with a fatherly smile and said, “Everything I do is for your benefit!” By the next morning, those inquisitive young men found themselves politely escorted to the Panchayat office, where they were given a lesson in village politics—questioning too much was hazardous to one’s health.

Five years passed in the blink of an eye. The wheel of development kept spinning, yet the village remained exactly where it was. Then, election season arrived once more. The air was filled with new slogans, fresh promises, and the same old faces with slightly different lies. A new candidate entered the race, announcing, “I’ll turn this village into a city!” The villagers clapped yet again.

Perhaps you’ll read this and laugh. Perhaps you’ll shake your head and chuckle at the absurdity of it all. But if you truly absorb it, you might just feel a lump in your throat. Because this isn’t just the story of one village—it’s the story of an entire nation. It’s the tale of truths we conveniently forget amidst the election festivities. It’s the saga of wounds inflicted upon the people by democracy itself. And above all, it’s the chronicle of those seats of power where truth is executed every five years.

And yes, the development is still ongoing.

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© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

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