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 The Demise of a Merit-Less Soul.
☆ Witful Warmth# 62 ☆
☆ Satire ☆ The Demise of a Merit-Less Soul… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆
The news arrived not as a tragedy, but as a statistical anomaly. It was a Tuesday morning when the principal’s office received the official report on the demise of Student Number 16, a fact conveyed in a tone befitting a clerical error. The student, it was noted, had simply ceased to be. His final moments were not of despair, but of a quiet, meticulous calculation of failure. His mind, having processed the impossibility of achieving a 99.8% average, had logically concluded that a successful life was no longer a viable option. It was a pragmatic decision, devoid of melodrama or romanticism. The school, in its infinite wisdom, immediately formed an Ad Hoc Committee for the Management of Unforeseen Demises. The committee’s primary task was not to mourn or to understand, but to ensure that the student’s failure did not tarnish the school’s pristine record. The chairman, a man with a mind as sharp and as cold as a freshly honed pencil, instructed the clerk to remove the student’s file from the “Exemplary” category and place it directly into the “Statistical Anomaly” box. The whole affair was handled with the same cold efficiency as a bank processing a loan rejection.
The student’s parents, upon hearing the news, did not shed a single tear. Tears, they reasoned, were a useless expenditure of valuable bodily fluids. Their initial reaction was a financial one. “All that money,” the father lamented, “spent on coaching classes, on tutors for mathematics and physics, on the late-night snacks to fuel his futile efforts. It’s a complete loss of investment. The ROI is zero, perhaps even negative.” The mother, ever the pragmatist, immediately called the tuition center to demand a refund. “My son’s demise,” she explained to the bewildered receptionist, “is a clear indication of your teaching’s ineffectiveness. The guarantee was for success, not for a permanent withdrawal from the rat race.” They held a small, formal gathering where relatives offered condolences not on the loss of life, but on the loss of a future doctor or engineer. “Such a pity,” an aunt sighed, “all that potential, all those perfectly good notebooks, now wasted.” The entire conversation revolved around the monetary value of a life that had, in their eyes, become an economic liability.
The neighbors, who had previously praised the student as a diligent boy with a promising future, now spoke of him in hushed, judgmental tones. He was no longer a symbol of hope but a cautionary tale, a social scarecrow erected to frighten their own children into submission. “You see what happens,” a father whispered to his son, his voice thick with implied threat, “when you don’t score well? The pressure becomes too much. It’s better to just study hard now and avoid such an outcome.” The story of Student Number 16 was added to the national curriculum of parental warnings, alongside anecdotes of children who had run away from home for daring to express an interest in art or music. His demise, in a strange, bureaucratic twist of fate, had finally given his life a purpose: to serve as a negative example. He was now more useful to society as a statistic of failure than he ever was as a living, breathing human being. His existence, a brief and frantic sprint toward a finish line he could never reach, had culminated in a final, impactful act of non-existence that served the very system that had consumed him.
The local government, ever eager to be seen as proactive, swiftly announced the formation of the “Bureaucracy of Student Well-being and Protocol for Terminal Academic Exhaustion.” The new department was a shining example of officialdom at its finest: an elaborate building, a dedicated staff, and a mountain of paperwork. The first order of business was to draft a 500-page report on the incident, a document that would contain not a single word about the human cost. The report would instead focus on procedural failures, such as the student’s failure to submit a “Pre-Demise Intention Form” and the school’s neglect in providing a “Certified Stress Mitigation Counselor” with a valid license to counsel. The report’s conclusion was not to recommend a change in the education system, but to suggest a new, mandatory module on “Emotional Resilience and the Proper Filing of Grievances” for all students. The student’s demise was thus transformed from a tragedy into a job-creation scheme, an administrative triumph of form over substance.
The media, sensing a juicy story, descended like vultures on the school. A television news anchor, his face a perfect mask of manufactured concern, delivered a dramatic monologue. “Today,” he declared, “we mourn the loss of a young life, a victim of our cutthroat education system.” The segment then seamlessly cut to a commercial break for a new, “stress-free” online tutoring service. The debate on the news channels was not about the pressures on students, but about whether the student’s demise was a political conspiracy or a case of poor parenting. Experts with impressive-sounding degrees were brought in to pontificate on the psychology of failure, while the student’s actual humanity was completely lost in the noise. His life story was edited, polished, and packaged for maximum viewership, stripped of all its complexity and emotional truth. He was no longer a person who had suffered, but a media product to be consumed and discussed for a week before the next sensational story replaced him. The public, for its part, absorbed the drama and moved on, their collective conscience soothed by the brief, performative act of “caring.”
In a final act of grotesque absurdity, the school decided to posthumously award Student Number 16 with the “Pinnacle of Academic Dedication” medal. The principal, addressing a solemn assembly, praised the student’s “unwavering commitment to the pursuit of excellence, a commitment so profound that he was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for the sanctity of the academic system.” The medal, a shiny, circular piece of metal, was accepted by his parents who, for the first time, smiled. Their son had finally brought them something of value—a shiny token and a fleeting moment of social prestige. The school also announced the establishment of a new “Student Demise Prevention Cell,” but the official notice for the cell’s inauguration was printed on the same page as a full-page advertisement for the school’s new, advanced robotics lab. The cell’s first act was to issue a new, comprehensive set of forms for students to fill out regarding their mental state, a bureaucratic solution to a human problem.
The demise of Student Number 16, in the end, was not a sad event. It was, instead, a logistical success. The school’s reputation was saved, the government had created a new department, the parents had received a consolation prize, and the media had a week’s worth of content. His story became a footnote in the grand, unfeeling ledger of the education system, a small, inconsequential line item in the column marked “Failed Experiments.” His memory was preserved not as a person who had dreamed, struggled, and fallen, but as a statistical object lesson for the next generation of students. He was a martyr to a cause that didn’t care about him, a sacrifice offered on the altar of a system that demanded perfection but offered no grace. The system had won. The demise of the student was a small price to pay for the smooth, uninterrupted functioning of the machine.
And so, life went on. The school bell rang, the students crammed for their exams, and the parents continued to invest in a future of predictable returns. The story of Student Number 16 was filed away in a drawer, alongside other irrelevant documents. The irony of it all was that his demise, which should have served as a wake-up call, had instead been absorbed by the very system it was a symptom of. His quiet exit had become just another part of the noise. And somewhere, another student, with tired eyes and a mind full of impossible expectations, was calculating their own odds of survival. The cycle had been completed, the lesson had been taught, and the machine, well-oiled by apathy and ambition, was ready for its next meal.
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© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’
Contact : Mo. +91 73 8657 8657, Email : drskm786@gmail.com
≈ Blog Editor – Shri Hemant Bawankar/Editor (English) – Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi, NM ≈
