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 Highway of Broken Clocks.
☆ Witful Warmth# 78 ☆
☆ Satire ☆ The Highway of Broken Clocks… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆
The sun was throwing a tantrum, baking the earth below, as four pairs of legs trembled violently on a dirt track that was currently busy throwing a dust parade. Atop a creaking, groaning bamboo cot, a heavy, suffocating silence had made itself comfortable. Shifting his coarse cotton towel to the other shoulder, Gopi grunted, “Hey, Sukna, watch it. There’s a landmine of rocks ahead. We don’t want Mother’s spirit to get any more seasick than it already is.”
Sukna wiped away a waterfall of sweat from his forehead. “I’m trying, brother. Just hold that umbrella straight. The sun is spitting pure fire today, as if it’s personally tasked with roasting whatever is left of our destiny.”
The figure stretched out on the cot was completely lifeless, eyes shut tight, as if it had successfully unsubscribed from all the chaos of the living world. On this particular path in the village of Chidhauti, every single pebble felt like a sharp, pointed interrogation mark. For centuries, this soil had generously ripped open its chest to supply the nation with coal and stone. In a beautiful act of gratitude, it was rewarded with this feet-mangling excuse for a path.
Little Mangra, marching ahead as the self-appointed navigator, muttered under his breath, “The city folks keep saying the country is flying high. Shiny cars are out there racing the wind.”
Gopi let out a bitter, joyless laugh. “Oh, absolutely! Those cars are parked right inside the lavish mansions built by eating away at our mountains. For our share, we get this beautifully unstable piece of firewood. Just yesterday, the government clerk was bragging that the road has already been constructed on paper—it just needs to physically descend onto the earth. I guess our backs are the actual roads they had in mind.”
Suddenly, Sukna’s foot betrayed him. The cot tilted violently. “Ram, Ram! Slow down!” Gopi shrieked. But the cot remained chillingly indifferent.
In the distance, massive billboards of progress were gleaming under the sun, featuring flawlessly smiling faces shouting praises about ‘Free Healthcare and Prosperity for All.’ Right beneath those dazzling advertisements, this four-shouldered funeral procession quietly crawled by.
As the hospital slope finally came into view, Gopi let out a sigh of pure relief. “We made it. Mother! Open your eyes. The doctor sahib will give you a little injection now, and all the pain will magically vanish.”
The moment they set the cot down, Gopi yanked the blanket away. There was no sick human being underneath. Instead, carefully wrapped inside was the broken wall clock from the village school and a bundle of official government documents—the ones that had been waiting for months to receive a rubber stamp of approval for a local clinic.
Sukna broke down into tears. “Mother already breathed her last night without a single drop of medicine, Gopi! We’ve just carried the corpse of this dead system all the way here to show the Sahib, so he can finally treat this paper ghost on his glittering, imaginary highway.”
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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 ≈
