Anonymous Litterateur of social media # 229 (सोशल मीडिया के गुमनाम साहित्यकार # 229)
Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi NM—an ex Naval Officer, possesses a multifaceted personality. He served as a Senior Advisor in prestigious Supercomputer organisation C-DAC, Pune. An alumnus of IIM Ahmedabad was involved in various Artificial and High-Performance Computing projects of national and international repute. He has got a long experience in the field of ‘Natural Language Processing’, especially, in the domain of Machine Translation. He has taken the mantle of translating the timeless beauties of Indian literature upon himself so that it reaches across the globe. He has also undertaken translation work for Shri Narendra Modi, the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India, which was highly appreciated by him. He is also a member of ‘Bombay Film Writer Association’. He is also the English Editor for the web magazine www.e-abhivyakti.com.
Captain Raghuvanshi is also a littérateur par excellence. He is a prolific writer, poet and ‘Shayar’ himself and participates in literature fests and ‘Mushayaras’. He keeps participating in various language & literature fests, symposiums and workshops etc.
Recently, he played an active role in the ‘International Hindi Conference’ at New Delhi. He presided over the “Session Focused on Language and Translation” and also presented a research paper. The conference was organized by Delhi University in collaboration with New York University and Columbia University.
In his Naval career, he was qualified to command all types of warships. He is also an aviator and a Sea Diver; and recipient of various awards including ‘Nao Sena Medal’ by the President of India, Prime Minister Awards and C-in-C Commendation. He has won many national and international awards.
He is also an IIM Ahmedabad alumnus.
His latest quest involves writing various books and translation work including over 100 Bollywood songs for various international forums as a mission for the enjoyment of the global viewers. Published various books and over 3000 poems, stories, blogs and other literary work at national and international level. Felicitated by numerous literary bodies..!
English translation of Urdu poetry couplets of Anonymous litterateur of Social Media # 229
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 Universal Truth.
☆ Witful Warmth# 41 ☆
☆ Satire ☆ The Universal Truth… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆
It is a truth universally acknowledged (though seldom admitted by those who ought to know it), that in our modern metropolis—in which industrial mechanizations, fraudulent schemes, and the ever-expanding folly of commerce preoccupy the hours of both the diligent and the idle—the art of common sense has been, by degrees, effaced by the artful incompetence of modern industry. In this spirit, I now present to you a tale—half mirthful, half mournful—a chronicle of the curious misadventures of Mr. Bartholomew Gudgeon and his motley assembly of compatriots, who in their blind pursuit of profit, have rendered themselves as veritable marionettes to the inane puppetry of economic absurdity.
Mr. Gudgeon, a man of no small ambition and even less common sense, had risen from the squalid bowels of the lower quarters to preside, however insignificantly, over an establishment known simply as “Gudgeon & Sons, Importers of All That Glitters.” This establishment, rather than being a beacon of integrity and industrious labour, had become a veritable repository of every modern contrivance that promised to convert common superstition into extraordinary profit. Gudgeon’s offices, festooned with gaudy advertisements extolling “The Miracle of Modern Mechanisms,” bore witness to the grand delusion that all problems might, indeed, be solved by mere acronyms and flashy slogans. “Efficiency”—that once noble ideal of honest labour—is now a word bandied about by corpulent managers in carbuncles of greed, each one eager to see society reduced to a series of figures balanced in monstrous ledgers. And so it came to pass that Mr. Gudgeon, amidst a veritable circus of accounting fiascoes and misappropriated funds, set forth a series of “innovative” directives, which, while promising to cut expenditures and inflate profits, only served to exacerbate the endemic foolishness that had long infested his establishment.
In the bustling thoroughfares beyond the precincts of Gudgeon’s offices, one might observe the common folk scuffling about in an array of colourful garments and broken dreams, all the while subjected to the whims of a modern aristocracy whose passion for waste often knew no bounds. Mrs. Prudence Tickler, a matron of some repute among the local trade unions, once declared, in a tone as mournful as it was melodious, “The world is a stage where folly and greed are worn as badges of honour, while the blood and sweat of good men are used to grease the wheels of avarice.” Her words, though steeped in despair, carried with them an undercurrent of hope—that human decency might yet triumph over the impersonal tyranny of profit and procedure. Alas, such sentiments fell upon ears as deaf as those of the proverbial mariner, who, lost amid the cacophony of modern ventures, would not pause to consider the lamentations of his fellow travellers.
Meanwhile, in the somber parlours of civic administration, a cadre of officials—more concerned with the latest fashions in bureaucratic jargon than with the corporeal well-being of their constituents—laboured under the illusion that life’s complexities could be distilled into neat sections and subsections of policy. It is a truth, indeed, that the pen is mightier than the sword; yet in these modern times, the pen appears oft to be wielded by those who have never seen the sharp edge of human hardship. A memo issued one fateful morning proclaimed, with all the gravity of a schoolmaster’s reprimand, that henceforth all public complaints were to be reduced to strictly formatted inquiries, to be answered with the precision of a clock’s tick and the mercy of a ledger’s arithmetic. This, dear reader, was not the tongue of compassion nor the voice of understanding—it was the cold, unyielding sound of mechanized jargon, designed to stifle the heartbeat of a nation in distress.
Yet among the throng of such recondite administrators, there existed an oddity—a mild, almost comical figure, by the name of Mr. Chesterfield Pumblechook. Mr. Pumblechook, though neither stout nor particularly resplendent, possessed a curious talent for navigating the labyrinthine corridors of government offices with a jaunty air of misplaced confidence. With his threadbare waistcoat and spectacles perpetually askew, he laboured under the delusion that every bureaucratic form was but an unwritten love letter to reason, and every stamped document a token of his own importance. “By Jove,” he would exclaim amidst piles of unsorted files, “if this is not the apex of administrative genius, then I am a lowly clerk in the realm of ignorance!” His proclamations, laced with the irony of fate and a wit as dry as the arid plains of misfortune, were received with a blend of amusement and pity by those who understood that very few possessed the subtle grace to laugh at one’s own absurdity.
In the marketplace of ideas—a marketplace as corrupted by the stain of greed as any bazaar of trifles—there stirred a movement, nascent yet resolute, composed of thinkers, writers, and reformers who dared to challenge the prevailing superstitions of progress. They gathered in dimly lit taverns, under the flickering light of gas lamps, to debate with fervour the impending collapse of a society governed not by wisdom but by the sterile pursuit of fiscal advantage. “The spirit of man is not for sale,” they declaimed, with a passion that stirred the soul even as it mocked the inanity of those who would have it otherwise. Yet their voices, though potent in their candour, were drowned out by the roar of machines and the clangor of coin, for the modern era had, in its relentless march toward mechanized desolation, forgotten the warmth of a genuine human heart.
Thus, in the great theater of modern existence, where each act is scripted by the architects of commerce and every scene orchestrated by those who profit from our folly, we are left to ponder the true cost of progress. It is a cost measured not merely in pennies or pounds, but in the lost hours of youthful exuberance, in the shriveled dreams of those once luminous with hope, and in the silent laments of a people made to feel insignificant amid the towering edifices of ambition. For what is progress but a fevered dream, a grand illusion that dances on the edge of despair? And what, dear friends, is the role of the individual but to bear witness to this tragic comedy and perhaps, if fortune favours, to inject a measure of sanity into the ceaseless machinery of avarice?
In the final analysis, it behooves us to remain vigilant against the encroachment of unthinking conformity and the cold tyranny of the profit motive. Let us raise our voices, however faintly, against the tidal wave of absurdity that threatens to wash away the delicate filigree of human decency. For in every petty misadventure and every bureaucratic blunder lies a lesson—a reminder, perhaps, that while the gears of industry might grind on relentlessly, the human spirit, with all its quirks and contradictions, remains the true engine of our existence. And so, in the spirit of resolve and reflection, let us not forget that the parody of our modern age, though wrapped in the garb of progress, is, in truth, a lamentable spectacle of self-inflicted imbecility.
May the echo of our protests be as enduring as the clamor of the mills, and may we, with courage and wit, continue to challenge the follies of our time. Thus, I leave you with this thought: if our era is to be judged by the measure of its contradictions, let us at least choose to pen our destiny with the quill of conscience rather than the blunt instrument of greed.
Anonymous Litterateur of social media # 228 (सोशल मीडिया के गुमनाम साहित्यकार # 228)
Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi NM—an ex Naval Officer, possesses a multifaceted personality. He served as a Senior Advisor in prestigious Supercomputer organisation C-DAC, Pune. An alumnus of IIM Ahmedabad was involved in various Artificial and High-Performance Computing projects of national and international repute. He has got a long experience in the field of ‘Natural Language Processing’, especially, in the domain of Machine Translation. He has taken the mantle of translating the timeless beauties of Indian literature upon himself so that it reaches across the globe. He has also undertaken translation work for Shri Narendra Modi, the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India, which was highly appreciated by him. He is also a member of ‘Bombay Film Writer Association’. He is also the English Editor for the web magazine www.e-abhivyakti.com.
Captain Raghuvanshi is also a littérateur par excellence. He is a prolific writer, poet and ‘Shayar’ himself and participates in literature fests and ‘Mushayaras’. He keeps participating in various language & literature fests, symposiums and workshops etc.
Recently, he played an active role in the ‘International Hindi Conference’ at New Delhi. He presided over the “Session Focused on Language and Translation” and also presented a research paper. The conference was organized by Delhi University in collaboration with New York University and Columbia University.
In his Naval career, he was qualified to command all types of warships. He is also an aviator and a Sea Diver; and recipient of various awards including ‘Nao Sena Medal’ by the President of India, Prime Minister Awards and C-in-C Commendation. He has won many national and international awards.
He is also an IIM Ahmedabad alumnus.
His latest quest involves writing various books and translation work including over 100 Bollywood songs for various international forums as a mission for the enjoyment of the global viewers. Published various books and over 3000 poems, stories, blogs and other literary work at national and international level. Felicitated by numerous literary bodies..!
English translation of Urdu poetry couplets of Anonymous litterateur of Social Media # 228
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 Accidental Death of Honesty, Hope, and Hunger.
☆ Witful Warmth# 40 ☆
☆ Satire ☆ The Accidental Death of Honesty, Hope, and Hunger… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆
It was an ordinary day in the Republic of Promises, where potholes were deeper than policies, and citizens were mere statistics waiting to be updated. At a deserted bus stop in a remote village—where election banners arrived more frequently than electricity—three coffins lay silently. Inside them rested an old farmer, a young graduate, and an honest officer. Their deaths were accidents, of course. The farmer accidentally mistook a rope for a government loan, the graduate mistakenly believed in merit, and the officer, well, he simply forgot that honesty was an outdated currency.
The villagers watched with silent reverence, for these three had achieved something extraordinary—they had managed to make the system notice them, albeit as corpses.
Ramprasad, the farmer, had a legacy of debt that grew faster than his crops. Every election season, a man in a white kurta would arrive, promising “Farmer Welfare” with one hand while holding a bank foreclosure notice in the other. One day, exhausted from running in circles between government offices, he decided to apply for a farming assistance scheme. The clerk smiled, took a bribe, and rejected his application in the same breath. That evening, Ramprasad found an easier government scheme—hanging from a tree. His suicide note was the only paper the authorities ever approved. It read: “I have cleared my debt. Will you?”
The next morning, politicians arrived for a quick photo session. They announced an investigation, formed a committee, and drove off in their air-conditioned cars. The village remained unchanged—thirsty, bankrupt, and ready to produce another Ramprasad for the next election cycle.
A few miles away, Abhishek, a young man with more degrees than his father’s entire generation, had spent years chasing a government job that the minister’s nephew secured in a single afternoon. He had memorized every motivational quote about perseverance but found no chapter on how to survive without a salary. Every time a job vacancy was announced, a convenient court case postponed the recruitment indefinitely. His father, once proud of his son’s education, now suggested, “Son, why don’t you start a small shop?”
But Abhishek was stubborn. He had sworn to serve his country, unaware that in this country, dreams belonged only to those who could afford them. His lifeless body was found near the railway tracks, clutching an old newspaper with the headline: “India’s Youth: The Future of the Nation!” The irony was poetic—the future had just thrown itself in front of a speeding train.
Meanwhile, Shivnath, an engineer who foolishly believed in the power of honesty, made the mistake of exposing corruption. His colleagues warned him, “Don’t fight the system. It’s older than you.” But Shivnath was honest, which, in his profession, was more dangerous than being a criminal. When he refused to approve a fraudulent contract, he unknowingly signed his own death certificate.
A few weeks later, he met with a “tragic accident”—his motorcycle mysteriously lost control on a dry, empty road. The police called it “death due to reckless driving,” the newspapers labeled it “an unfortunate incident,” and the system wrote him off as just another man who didn’t understand how things worked. His wife pleaded for justice, his son knocked on every door, but all they got was “We are investigating.” Investigation, after all, was just another word for waiting until people forgot.
Back at the bus stop, life continued around the coffins. The tea vendor poured another cup of tea, the shopkeeper discussed cricket, and a politician’s convoy sped past, not even slowing down. A journalist arrived but left quickly—there was bigger news in town. A celebrity had just bought a pet dog worth ₹5 lakh.
As the sun set, the villagers whispered, “Who’s next?”
No one knew the answer, but they all understood the game.
The system did not kill people. It simply created the circumstances for them to die.
And so, the nation moved forward, marching proudly toward progress—stepping over the graves of honesty, hope, and hunger.
Anonymous Litterateur of social media # 227 (सोशल मीडिया के गुमनाम साहित्यकार # 227)
Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi NM—an ex Naval Officer, possesses a multifaceted personality. He served as a Senior Advisor in prestigious Supercomputer organisation C-DAC, Pune. An alumnus of IIM Ahmedabad was involved in various Artificial and High-Performance Computing projects of national and international repute. He has got a long experience in the field of ‘Natural Language Processing’, especially, in the domain of Machine Translation. He has taken the mantle of translating the timeless beauties of Indian literature upon himself so that it reaches across the globe. He has also undertaken translation work for Shri Narendra Modi, the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India, which was highly appreciated by him. He is also a member of ‘Bombay Film Writer Association’. He is also the English Editor for the web magazine www.e-abhivyakti.com.
Captain Raghuvanshi is also a littérateur par excellence. He is a prolific writer, poet and ‘Shayar’ himself and participates in literature fests and ‘Mushayaras’. He keeps participating in various language & literature fests, symposiums and workshops etc.
Recently, he played an active role in the ‘International Hindi Conference’ at New Delhi. He presided over the “Session Focused on Language and Translation” and also presented a research paper. The conference was organized by Delhi University in collaboration with New York University and Columbia University.
In his Naval career, he was qualified to command all types of warships. He is also an aviator and a Sea Diver; and recipient of various awards including ‘Nao Sena Medal’ by the President of India, Prime Minister Awards and C-in-C Commendation. He has won many national and international awards.
He is also an IIM Ahmedabad alumnus.
His latest quest involves writing various books and translation work including over 100 Bollywood songs for various international forums as a mission for the enjoyment of the global viewers. Published various books and over 3000 poems, stories, blogs and other literary work at national and international level. Felicitated by numerous literary bodies..!
English translation of Urdu poetry couplets of Anonymous litterateur of Social Media # 227
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 Grand Plans of the Great Officer.
☆ Witful Warmth# 39 ☆
☆ Satire ☆ The Grand Plans of the Great Officer… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆
The great officer issued a decree—”The city must be clean, beautiful, and smart!” Orders spread from top to bottom, like a sudden high-voltage current in an old wire. Officials held meetings, tea and snacks were served, and it was decided that the first battle would be against filth. Posters were plastered all over town—”Clean City, Healthy City!” The public asked, “Who’s going to pick up the garbage?” The officials smiled—”The public, of course! We need everyone’s cooperation!” A gathering was held at the neighborhood square, where an elderly gentleman suggested, “Maybe start by installing dustbins?” The officials nodded—”The budget hasn’t been approved yet, but if the public becomes aware, what could be better!” The next day, newspapers screamed—”The city embraces cleanliness, citizens rejoice!” In reality, the streets were the same, the garbage was the same, only the newspaper headlines had changed—now flying around as litter.
The trumpet of the Smart City project was sounded. The great officer declared—”Now both the city and its people will become smart!” The citizens beamed—”Wow! Our children will study in smart classrooms instead of just being glued to smartphones!” Some curious minds asked, “Sir, when will these smart classrooms be ready?” The officer replied, “First, we’ll widen the roads, install traffic lights, put up CCTV cameras… then we’ll talk about education!” The next day, trees along the roadsides were mercilessly chopped down—”Greenery out, development in!” Another newspaper headline boasted—”Winds of progress sweep through the city, people delighted!” But the dust storm of this progress was so thick that no one could see where development was actually heading.
A stampede of contractors rushed to the municipal office—”Give us a chance to serve too!” Contracts were handed out—some for installing fountains, some for replacing park benches, others for repainting old streetlight poles. The public asked, “Wasn’t a fountain installed here just last year? Why replace it?” The officials grinned—”That was an old model. Now, we have new technology!” The public argued, “But the old one didn’t have water either!” A contractor clarified, “That was because there was no water in the tank. This time, we’ll make sure there’s water too!” The public suggested, “Then why not build the water tank first?” The officials sighed, “The budget hasn’t been approved yet, but if the public becomes aware, what could be better!”
The great officer then turned his benevolent gaze toward the city’s hospitals. “Health is wealth! We will now provide facilities in government hospitals equivalent to private ones!” The next day, a massive banner appeared at the hospital entrance—”MRI, CT scans, heart surgeries—everything available here!” The sick rushed in, only to find… no doctors! The nurse shrugged, “Doctor sir is in a meeting. Come tomorrow.” The next day, doctors were present, but the machines were missing. Complaints reached the great officer, who responded wisely—”Go to a private hospital, bring us the bill, and we’ll reimburse you!” A patient hesitated, “And if we die?” The officer smiled—”Then you won’t have to worry about reimbursement!”
Digital transformation was the next grand mission—”The city will go digital!” People cheered—”Now even government offices will go paperless!” The clerks chuckled—”Oh no! The files will remain the same, but the advertisements are now digital!” The great officer announced another groundbreaking initiative—”Government offices will now have five-star facilities!” The public gasped—”Wow! Now work will be done faster!” Offices got central AC, new leather sofas, coffee machines. The public thought—”Finally! No more begging the peon for a cup of tea!” But when they visited for actual work, the response was—”The system is down, but would you like some coffee?”
Plans were laid out to renovate city parks. “Each park will have an open gym, fountains, and shiny new benches!” The next week, a grand inauguration board was placed—”City’s first open gym, now operational!” But within a day, all the gym equipment mysteriously vanished. The public asked, “Where did the gym go?” The officials responded, “Someone took it overnight!” The citizens sighed, “Why didn’t you assign a security guard?” The officer sighed too—”The budget hasn’t been approved yet, but if the public becomes aware, what could be better!”
Another master plan was launched for cleanliness—”Every ward will have dustbins, and every alley will have sanitation workers!” The next day, brand-new dustbins appeared across town. People felt relieved—”Finally, no more littering!” But within two days, the dustbins themselves disappeared. The officials explained, “Someone stole them! But don’t worry, next time, we’ll install iron ones!” The public rolled their eyes, “Then why didn’t you install iron ones in the first place?” The great officer smirked—”Development happens in phases. Everything can’t be done at once!”
Then, one fine day, the great officer was transferred. A grand farewell was arranged. Officials delivered poetic tributes—”He has taken this city to new heights!” The public stood silently, wondering—”Whose heights were actually raised? The city’s or the officer’s?” But the speech continued—”His vision has secured the city’s bright future!” The public nodded—”Yes, indeed! The future looks bright… because the present is completely dark!”
A new officer arrived. In his first meeting, he declared—”The city must be clean, beautiful, and smart!” The public smirked—”Ah, here we go again!”
Anonymous Litterateur of social media # 226 (सोशल मीडिया के गुमनाम साहित्यकार # 226)
Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi NM—an ex Naval Officer, possesses a multifaceted personality. He served as a Senior Advisor in prestigious Supercomputer organisation C-DAC, Pune. An alumnus of IIM Ahmedabad was involved in various Artificial and High-Performance Computing projects of national and international repute. He has got a long experience in the field of ‘Natural Language Processing’, especially, in the domain of Machine Translation. He has taken the mantle of translating the timeless beauties of Indian literature upon himself so that it reaches across the globe. He has also undertaken translation work for Shri Narendra Modi, the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India, which was highly appreciated by him. He is also a member of ‘Bombay Film Writer Association’. He is also the English Editor for the web magazine www.e-abhivyakti.com.
Captain Raghuvanshi is also a littérateur par excellence. He is a prolific writer, poet and ‘Shayar’ himself and participates in literature fests and ‘Mushayaras’. He keeps participating in various language & literature fests, symposiums and workshops etc.
Recently, he played an active role in the ‘International Hindi Conference’ at New Delhi. He presided over the “Session Focused on Language and Translation” and also presented a research paper. The conference was organized by Delhi University in collaboration with New York University and Columbia University.
In his Naval career, he was qualified to command all types of warships. He is also an aviator and a Sea Diver; and recipient of various awards including ‘Nao Sena Medal’ by the President of India, Prime Minister Awards and C-in-C Commendation. He has won many national and international awards.
He is also an IIM Ahmedabad alumnus.
His latest quest involves writing various books and translation work including over 100 Bollywood songs for various international forums as a mission for the enjoyment of the global viewers. Published various books and over 3000 poems, stories, blogs and other literary work at national and international level. Felicitated by numerous literary bodies..!
English translation of Urdu poetry couplets of Anonymous litterateur of Social Media # 226
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 Trials of Truth: A Modern-Day Journalism.
☆ Witful Warmth# 37 ☆
☆ Satire ☆ The Grand Gala of Honors and the Spectacle of Jugaad… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆
The scene was nothing short of a grand theatrical performance from an old, overplayed movie. A lavish stage adorned with garlands, a microphone crackling with exaggerated enthusiasm, and the host—oh, the host! —spitting words with the practiced precision of a broken-down radio announcer.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, I call upon the legendary author, Mr. So-and-So, who has devoted a lifetime to the service of literature!” The phrase was repeated so often that one felt as though an old gramophone needle had gotten stuck in the grooves.
On either side of the stage, glittering trophies wrapped in satin sheets awaited their recipients like dormant artifacts in a museum. The organizers, standing smugly behind them, looked like landlords watching their peasants toiling in the fields for free, basking in the pleasure of borrowed grandeur.
Now, let us cast our eyes upon the esteemed guests. These were authors whose books were so rare that if you walked into a bookstore and asked for them, the shopkeeper would likely ask, “Sir, did you print this yourself?” Yet, their faces frequently graced newspapers—usually in snapshots from literature festivals where tea and samosas flowed more freely than literary discussions.
The moment they received their trophies, their faces lit up as if they had just won an Olympic gold medal. And yet, if you strolled through their neighborhood and inquired, “Do you know Mr. So-and-So, the famous writer?” the local grocer would likely scratch his head and reply, “Oh, you mean the fellow who still owes me money for last month’s lentils?”
But the real charm of these grand literary gatherings was not literature—it was a sophisticated excuse to meet long-lost acquaintances from Delhi or Mumbai. “I am attending a literary conference,” they would announce at home, while secretly rejoicing at the prospect of an all-expenses-paid trip, a fancy hotel stay, and, most importantly, a new invitation to another event where even more free food awaited. The system was simple: buy your own bus ticket, and the rest would be taken care of by the generous organizers. A perfect example of “You scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.”
The elderly writers in attendance adhered to a sacred ritual: reciting the same weary proclamation at every event. “Literature is in grave danger. The younger generation does not read anymore. We must act!” This speech had become the unofficial national anthem of literary symposiums. But the moment they spotted a tray of hot samosas and sweet jalebis, their grave concerns for literature were promptly replaced by concerns about securing a second helping before the plates ran empty.
It was a beautiful contradiction—on one hand, solemn discussions on the decline of literary taste, and on the other, a desperate scramble for the last piece of gulab jamun.
The whole spectacle often reminded one of a vegetable market. The writers stood in neat rows, much like potatoes, cabbages, and pumpkins, waiting to be picked, packed, and honored. Some authors found themselves peeled like bananas on stage, while others floated like water chestnuts, drifting from one event to another. A select few played the role of ever-present tomatoes, appearing in every literary salad, garnishing every discussion.
Trophies were awarded, photographs clicked, social media flooded with posts, and before the last echoes of applause faded, plans for the next grand event were already in motion.
And yet, curiously enough, amidst all this grandeur, literature itself remained nowhere to be found. Those who truly wrote masterpieces rarely attended these farcical gatherings. And those who did attend—well, for them, literature was merely the bait, while the real game was the great, never-ending trade of honors.
It was an enterprise where the product held no value, but the packaging was so dazzling that the customers never stopped applauding.
Anonymous Litterateur of social media # 225 (सोशल मीडिया के गुमनाम साहित्यकार # 225)
Captain Pravin Raghuvanshi NM—an ex Naval Officer, possesses a multifaceted personality. He served as a Senior Advisor in prestigious Supercomputer organisation C-DAC, Pune. An alumnus of IIM Ahmedabad was involved in various Artificial and High-Performance Computing projects of national and international repute. He has got a long experience in the field of ‘Natural Language Processing’, especially, in the domain of Machine Translation. He has taken the mantle of translating the timeless beauties of Indian literature upon himself so that it reaches across the globe. He has also undertaken translation work for Shri Narendra Modi, the Hon’ble Prime Minister of India, which was highly appreciated by him. He is also a member of ‘Bombay Film Writer Association’. He is also the English Editor for the web magazine www.e-abhivyakti.com.
Captain Raghuvanshi is also a littérateur par excellence. He is a prolific writer, poet and ‘Shayar’ himself and participates in literature fests and ‘Mushayaras’. He keeps participating in various language & literature fests, symposiums and workshops etc.
Recently, he played an active role in the ‘International Hindi Conference’ at New Delhi. He presided over the “Session Focused on Language and Translation” and also presented a research paper. The conference was organized by Delhi University in collaboration with New York University and Columbia University.
In his Naval career, he was qualified to command all types of warships. He is also an aviator and a Sea Diver; and recipient of various awards including ‘Nao Sena Medal’ by the President of India, Prime Minister Awards and C-in-C Commendation. He has won many national and international awards.
He is also an IIM Ahmedabad alumnus.
His latest quest involves writing various books and translation work including over 100 Bollywood songs for various international forums as a mission for the enjoyment of the global viewers. Published various books and over 3000 poems, stories, blogs and other literary work at national and international level. Felicitated by numerous literary bodies..!
English translation of Urdu poetry couplets of Anonymous litterateur of Social Media # 225
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 Trials of Truth: A Modern-Day Journalism.
☆ Witful Warmth# 37 ☆
☆ Satire ☆ The Trials of Truth: A Modern-Day Journalism… ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆
King Vikram hoisted the ever-mischievous Vetala onto his shoulders, bracing himself for another riddle-filled ordeal. No sooner had he begun walking than Vetala cackled, “O King! Let me tell you a tale from the grand halls of modern journalism. But beware! If you fail to answer my question at the end, your head shall shatter into a thousand pieces!”
Vikram, ever the unwavering monarch, sighed and replied, “Speak, Vetala. I shall answer.”
Thus began the tale.
In the capital city, a most esteemed and influential news channel, “The Nation’s Conscience,” declared that it required a fresh news anchor—one worthy of the sacred duty of informing the masses. The selection process was veiled in secrecy, as only the shrewdest, most astute, and cunning minds would prevail. But, as in all great institutions, true merit lay in something far deeper.
Three hopeful candidates presented themselves: Raghav, Suresh, and Mohan. Each was competent, but the question remained—were they the right kind of competent? Their fate rested in the hands of the channel’s supreme editor-in-chief, the venerable Bhaktibhushan Acharya.
With an air of divine authority, Acharya gazed at the three and posed his first question: “What is truth?”
Raghav, a firm believer in the antiquated values of journalism, answered boldly, “Truth is impartial. It is that which serves the people and upholds justice.”
Acharya’s brow furrowed with displeasure. “Nonsense! Impartial journalism? There is no such thing! You, sir, have failed.”
Raghav, his ideals still intact but his career aspirations crumbling, departed in dejection.
Acharya turned to Suresh. “And what do you say?”
Suresh, a man of pragmatic intelligence, replied, “Truth is whatever is repeated often enough to be accepted as truth.”
Acharya’s lips curled into a smile. “A fine thought! But not yet sublime. You must go deeper.”
Now came Mohan’s turn. With a smug confidence, he declared, “Truth is whatever the ruling power decrees it to be.”
Acharya leapt up in sheer delight. “Ah! Now here is a man who understands the nature of reality! You are on the path to becoming a journalist of true distinction.”
The second trial began. Acharya presented them with a challenge—a simulated debate. The topic: Inflation does not exist; it is merely a rumor.
Raghav, ever the fool for facts, cited statistics and government reports, attempting to prove that inflation was indeed a grim reality.
Acharya’s expression darkened. “Why is your voice so feeble? A news anchor must dominate the airwaves! Guests may speak, but their words should be mere interruptions to your thunder! You are unfit for this noble profession. Begone!”
Suresh, taking heed of Raghav’s mistake, spoke louder, cut off his imaginary guests, and filled the space with his own voice. Yet, Acharya was unsatisfied.
Then came Mohan. His strategy was elegant in its simplicity: he bellowed at the top of his lungs, repeating only one phrase—“Do not betray the nation! Speak against the government, and you are an enemy of the people!”
Acharya clapped his hands in glee. “Marvelous! A true newsman in the making!”
Now, the final and gravest test awaited. Acharya turned to them and said, “Imagine you are in possession of a video—one that exposes a powerful minister embroiled in corruption. What would you do?”
Raghav, the hapless idealist, responded, “I would broadcast the truth for the people to see.”
Acharya groaned in agony, clutching his head as if in pain. “Oh, you misguided soul! If you wished to speak truth, you should have become a monk, not a journalist! Leave at once!”
Suresh, having learned the game, answered with careful calculation, “I would edit the video to soften the blow, ensuring that it does not cause unnecessary trouble.”
Acharya nodded approvingly. “A step in the right direction, but still not bold enough.”
Mohan, beaming with triumph, proclaimed, “I would erase the video entirely and, in its place, release a new one that frames the opposition as the true culprits.”
Tears of joy welled in Acharya’s eyes. “Magnificent! You have mastered the art of modern journalism! You are now officially our news anchor.”
Vetala cackled with delight. “So, O King! What lesson does this tale teach us?”
Vikram, ever steadfast, answered solemnly, “This tale reveals that in the world of modern journalism, truth and objectivity have become relics of the past. Success is no longer measured by integrity but by one’s ability to amplify the voice of power, twist reality to suit convenience, and drown out reason with sheer volume.”
No sooner had he spoken than Vetala shrieked with laughter and flew back to his perch on the ancient tree. “Ah, Vikram! You have answered yet again! And so, the game continues.”
Vikram sighed, tightened his grip on his sword, and strode forward once more, determined as ever to capture the cunning spirit.
And thus, the cycle of truth and deception marched on, as eternal as time itself.
Anonymous Litterateur of social media # 229 (सोशल मीडिया के गुमनाम साहित्यकार # 229) 
