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 Electoral Cow: From Sacred Symbol to Forgotten Promise... .
☆ Witful Warmth# 31 ☆
☆ Satire ☆ The Electoral Cow: From Sacred Symbol to Forgotten Promise… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆
In the grand spectacle of Indian democracy, where the colors of campaigns paint every wall, street, and heart, one figure stands apart as a timeless icon: the cow. Yes, the revered bovine, the embodiment of purity and sustenance, finds herself thrust into the limelight every five years, her significance growing in direct proportion to the urgency of the elections. But, alas, once the ballots are counted and the promises have evaporated, our beloved cow retreats into the shadows, forgotten until the next democratic carnival.
During the election season, cows become the unofficial mascots of manifestos. From posters plastered with slogans glorifying their sanctity to candidates offering garlands to actual cows on camera, the nation seems to unite under the banner of bovine adoration. “Protect the cow!” they cry, equating its welfare with the prosperity of the land. Committees are formed, sanctuaries are promised, and speeches are delivered with dramatic flair, often featuring a candidate stroking a bewildered cow as if they’ve just unlocked the secret to national harmony.
But the real drama begins after the elections. Once the ink has dried on the voters’ fingers and the victors take their oath, the cows are quietly ushered offstage. The sanctuaries become mirages, the committees dissolve into bureaucratic oblivion, and the promises evaporate faster than milk left out in the summer sun. The cows, having served their electoral purpose, are left to wander aimlessly—both literally and metaphorically—as the political machinery moves on to more “pressing” matters.
This cyclical amnesia isn’t new, of course. The cow has been a silent participant in India’s political theater for decades, a mute witness to the ebb and flow of rhetoric. During elections, she’s elevated to divine status, her image adorning banners, her name invoked in fiery debates. Political parties compete to outdo each other in their devotion, promising everything from free fodder to state-of-the-art shelters. The sheer creativity of these pledges would be admirable if it weren’t so blatantly opportunistic.
However, come post-election reality, the cows find themselves back in the mundane world of potholed streets and neglected fields. The promised shelters remain blueprints; the free fodder is nowhere to be seen. Stray cows wander urban jungles, dodging traffic and scavenging for scraps, their plight a stark contrast to the reverence showered upon them just weeks earlier. It’s as if the electoral cow and the real cow exist in parallel universes, one revered and the other ignored.
One might ask: why does the cow occupy such a peculiar position in our politics? The answer lies in her symbolic power. In a country as diverse and complex as India, the cow represents a unifying ideal—a symbol of cultural identity and traditional values. By aligning themselves with this symbol, politicians tap into a reservoir of emotional resonance, crafting an image of themselves as protectors of heritage. It’s a strategy that works remarkably well, as evidenced by the fervor it generates among voters.
But this strategy also reveals the hollowness of much of our political discourse. The cow becomes a convenient prop, a tool to distract from substantive issues like unemployment, education, and healthcare. While leaders wax poetic about cow protection, the real problems facing farmers—including those who rear these very cows—are conveniently sidelined. The irony is as thick as the butter churned from her milk: the very creature they claim to cherish becomes a pawn in a game that cares little for her actual well-being.
And what of the voters? Are we not complicit in this charade? We cheer for the promises, applaud the symbolism, and cast our votes, only to lament the broken pledges later. Perhaps it’s time we held our leaders accountable, demanding not just words but actions. After all, if the cow truly is a symbol of our values, shouldn’t her welfare reflect our collective conscience?
Imagine a world where post-election reality matches pre-election rhetoric. Sanctuaries would thrive, stray cows would find homes, and farmers would receive genuine support. The cow would no longer be a fleeting mascot but a true beneficiary of the promises made in her name. Such a world might seem idealistic, but isn’t it worth striving for?
Until then, the cow will continue to play her dual role: a sacred symbol during election season and a forgotten figure in its aftermath. She will graze on the empty promises of manifestos, her plight a silent reminder of the gap between words and deeds. And as the political circus moves on, we, too, will move on—until the next election, when the cow will once again take center stage, her significance rediscovered, her symbolism renewed.
In the end, the story of the electoral cow is a satire not just of politics but of us as a society. It’s a tale of misplaced priorities and selective memory, of sacred symbols turned into political tools. The question is: will we continue to fall for the same old tricks, or will we demand better? The answer, like the cow’s next appearance, is just a vote away.
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© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’
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≈ Blog Editor – Shri Hemant Bawankar/Editor (English) – Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM ≈
