Tag: #Weekly_Column

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 Great Festive Season Loot. 

☆ Witful Warmth # 23 ☆

☆ Satire ☆ The Great Festive Season Loot ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆

As the festive season descended upon the bustling streets of the city, a peculiar phenomenon took hold of its residents: an almost involuntary urge to part with their hard-earned money in a frenzy of shopping, gifting, and celebrations. The air was thick with the fragrance of freshly made sweets, the sounds of garish music, and the sight of shopkeepers grinning like Cheshire cats, ready to pounce on the unsuspecting customers. Yes, it was that time of year again—the great Indian festive season, where every man, woman, and child seemed to transform into a walking, talking cash register, emitting jingles rather than coins.

In this grand carnival of consumption, our protagonist, Mr. Shyamlal Gupta, found himself caught in the whirlwind. A simple clerk by profession, Shyamlal was no stranger to the annual ritual of emptying his pockets to celebrate the festival of lights, but this year, the intensity of the festival-induced madness reached new heights. “Why should I let my neighbors outshine me with their extravagant displays of wealth?” he mused, as he glanced at the impressive new car parked outside his affluent neighbor’s house, which incidentally had replaced the old one—a mere month old, as if it were a seasonal item.

“Lights, gifts, sweets—this year, I shall become a symbol of prosperity!” Shyamlal declared, his voice brimming with optimism. With this newfound ambition, he set off into the chaos of the marketplace, armed with a list of purchases that would make even the most seasoned shopaholic raise an eyebrow. As he maneuvered through the throngs of shoppers, he was greeted by the usual cacophony of vendors shouting at the top of their lungs, urging customers to buy the “latest” in festive attire, which bore an uncanny resemblance to last year’s collection—albeit with a few sequins strategically placed to justify the inflated price tag.

“Ah, Mr. Gupta! Looking to dazzle the neighborhood this festive season?” chirped a shopkeeper, his eyes gleaming with the promise of a sale.

“Yes, yes! I need the best!” Shyamlal responded, puffing out his chest as if he were entering a beauty pageant rather than a clothing store.

With each purchase—saris, sweets, new earthen lamps, and an elaborate assortment of plastic decorations—Shyamlal felt a mixture of exhilaration and dread. He knew deep down that he was falling prey to the age-old trap of festive consumerism, but the thought of being outdone by Mrs. Sharma, his neighbor, who had already set up an extravagant light display, sent shivers down his spine.

By the time Shyamlal returned home, bags in hand, he felt like a victorious warrior, albeit one who had been utterly defeated in the realm of finances. His wife, Mrs. Gupta, looked at the mountain of purchases with a mix of awe and disbelief. “Darling, have you considered that perhaps we don’t need to spend so much just to keep up appearances?”

“Of course, we do!” he retorted, feigning bravado. “What will people say if we don’t compete with the Sharmas? This is about our reputation!”

Thus, the stage was set for a festival of embarrassment and regret. With lights adorning every corner of their modest abode, Shyamlal soon discovered that the electricity bill would likely be the true testament to his festive zeal. The entire neighborhood had transformed into a veritable competition of illumination; the Sharmas had installed an entire light show that could only be likened to a mini New Year’s Eve in Times Square.

As the festival day approached, Shyamlal’s desperation reached its zenith. With each new advertisement he encountered, promising the latest gadgets and gizmos—none of which he truly needed—he felt an insatiable itch to spend more. “What if I don’t buy a new smartphone? How will people know I am technologically advanced?” he fretted.

The festive season climaxed in a chaotic whirlwind of parties, where Shyamlal found himself perpetually trapped in a cycle of forced hospitality and obligatory gifting. Each neighbor’s extravagant gift demanded an equal or greater response, leaving Shyamlal in a state of perpetual anxiety and indebtedness.

At a particularly lavish gathering, while sipping a drink that tasted suspiciously like sugar water, Shyamlal overheard Mrs. Sharma boasting about her “cutting-edge” air fryer. “It can fry anything! Even your financial sense!” he thought bitterly, glancing at his own hand-me-down cooking appliances, now obsolete in the face of his neighbor’s culinary technology.

“Ah, Shyamlal, you must come over to try my new air fryer!” Mrs. Sharma called, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You simply must—everyone is raving about it!”

“Yes, I’ll bring you something special from my collection of antique spoons!” he countered with a forced smile, realizing he had nothing of value to offer but his growing sense of financial doom.

The festive season marched on, and so did Shyamlal’s desperation. With every extravagant gathering came the crippling realization that he had spent more than he earned, and the once joyous spirit of celebration had turned into a grim parade of credit card bills and the haunting specter of unpaid loans.

As the last festival day drew to a close, Shyamlal sat down with a heavy heart, surrounded by the remnants of his ill-advised purchases. The lights dimmed, the sweets had dwindled, and all that remained was the bitter taste of his financial folly. He pondered the irony of a festival meant to celebrate abundance leaving him in the throes of scarcity.

In that moment of clarity, Shyamlal made a decision. Next year, he would break the cycle of festive season loot. He would embrace minimalism, resist the siren call of extravagant consumerism, and perhaps even encourage his neighbors to do the same. After all, as he gazed at the empty wrappers and fading lights, he realized that true celebration lay not in material possessions but in the spirit of togetherness, not in competition but in camaraderie.

But that was next year’s resolution. For now, as he buried his head in his hands, he could only lament the fleeting joy of a festive season turned farcical—a cycle he had unwittingly perpetuated, one plastic decoration at a time.

*

© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Contact : Mo. +91 73 8657 8657, Email : [email protected]

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 He Was Gone. 

☆ Witful Warmth # 22 ☆

☆ Satire ☆ He Was Gone ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆

The reader’s lifeless body lay sprawled on a sofa, his phone placed before him, pinging and ponging relentlessly. Around him echoed the noise of his friends— “What happened?” “Why are you sleeping?” and “Yet another book left unfinished!” Someone, in sheer frustration, had even unfollowed him.

The reader, once a most ardent user of social media, was now utterly oblivious to the world. The writer, who had long been chasing recognition and esteem, stood amongst the shattered promises of unread pages. His thoughts drifted back to that reader—who once engaged in earnest, thoughtful discussions on his works. But now, that same reader had been swallowed whole by the vast abyss of ‘likes’ and ‘shares.’

Memories of the reader lay scattered across his room—books that had once formed the very foundation of his intellect now gathered dust, neglected and forgotten. For the writer, it was a dirge for his beloved reader, though those around seemed only interested in the final status update he had posted.

During the funeral procession, the writer received a deluge of messages: “A great lover of books has left us!” and “Is there any way to pay tribute with a retweet?” The writer was at a loss—was this man even a person anymore, or had he become merely a digital identity?

The mourners stared solemnly, yet the incessant notifications lighting up their phones lent an oddly comic lightness to the proceedings.

As the final rites were performed, the writer recalled the days when the reader had devoured books with genuine passion. Now, he was lost among the masses of people who hastily ‘react’ and ‘comment’ without thought or care.

In the end, when the reader was consigned to the flames, a single tear slid down the writer’s cheek. He wondered aloud, “Perhaps in the world of books, someone might bring him back.” But could the land of retweets ever restore such a true reader to his former glory?

Someone had said it best: “These days, books are sold, while followers on social media never seem to dwindle!”

*

© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Contact : Mo. +91 73 8657 8657, Email : [email protected]

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 Great Pension Dilemma. 

☆ Witful Warmth # 21 ☆

☆ Satire ☆ The Great Pension Dilemma ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆

As the clock strikes sixty, many find themselves at a crossroads, armed with nothing but the promise of a pension. In an age where “working hard” is often accompanied by the phrase “for a secure future,” retirees are left grappling with the irony of having spent their golden years to save for a retirement that’s as elusive as the Loch Ness Monster.

The Golden Ticket

Imagine, if you will, a retiree named Mr. Singh. After decades of dutifully clocking in and out, he anticipates his pension with the glee of a child awaiting a birthday gift. But alas, upon his retirement, he is met not with a confetti parade, but with a bureaucratic obstacle course more complicated than a season of reality television.

“Congratulations! You’ve earned this,” the retirement office proclaims, handing him a pamphlet that could rival the length of a Tolstoy novel. It details forms, approvals, and a labyrinthine process to finally access his pension—a veritable quest worthy of Indiana Jones. Mr. Singh, holding his pamphlet like a treasure map, realizes he must first navigate the Valley of the Lost Documents and the Forest of Unanswered Questions.

The Wait Game

Weeks turn into months, and Mr. Singh finds himself in a Kafkaesque situation, waiting for approval from a committee that seems to have taken a vow of silence. In the meantime, his savings dwindle faster than a popsicle on a summer day. “Isn’t retirement supposed to be relaxing?” he wonders, as he tries to piece together a meal from expired cans in his pantry.

Meanwhile, other retirees gather at the local park, sharing stories of their pension pursuits like war veterans recounting their greatest battles. “I waited three years for mine!” exclaims Mrs. Patel, proudly waving her rejection letters like badges of honor. The group laughs, but there’s a bittersweet edge to their camaraderie, as they all know the truth: retirement is a minefield.

The Pension Puzzle

In the modern age of technology, one would think that pension disbursement would be as simple as clicking “buy” on an online shopping site. Yet, the process is akin to deciphering an ancient script. “Have you tried the app?” asks a well-meaning friend, only to find that the app is less user-friendly than a cat during a bath.

“Oh, and don’t forget to use your ‘unique identifier’!” they chime, but Mr. Singh isn’t sure if that means his birth date, his first pet’s name, or perhaps his favorite flavor of ice cream. It’s as if the pension system is a club, and the entrance fee is a knowledge of obscure passwords and cryptic instructions.

The Economic Conundrum

To add fuel to the fire, there’s the question of inflation—a term that sounds more like a magic trick than an economic principle. Just as Mr. Singh finally figures out how to access his pension, he realizes that the purchasing power of his hard-earned savings has evaporated. The monthly stipend is now barely enough for a cup of coffee and a day’s worth of Wi-Fi, which, as we all know, is the true currency of modern life.

“You’re telling me I worked for forty years to enjoy a life that’s just below the poverty line?” he scoffs, raising his voice in disbelief. The irony isn’t lost on him; after all, he spent decades paying into a system designed to ensure his comfort in old age. Instead, he feels like a contestant on a game show where the prize is disappointment.

The Bureaucratic Ballet

Let’s not forget the charming interactions with customer service, where every call feels like a Shakespearean play. “Thank you for holding! Your call is very important to us,” says a voice with all the warmth of a frozen dinner. After what feels like a lifetime, he finally reaches a representative who, despite their cheery disposition, speaks in a language that sounds suspiciously like “corporate jargon.”

“Sir, your request is in the queue,” they say, as if it were the next episode of a binge-worthy series. “We’re experiencing higher than normal delays due to, well, you know… everything.” Mr. Singh, in disbelief, hangs up, realizing that “everything” is an all-encompassing excuse that justifies the state of the pension system.

The Comedy

As the months drag on, Mr. Singh’s initial enthusiasm has morphed into a resigned acceptance. “Well, at least I’m not alone,” he thinks, glancing at his fellow retirees, all united in their quest for a system that seems to favor the young and the agile, leaving the elderly feeling like the forgotten characters in a long-lost play.

Eventually, Mr. Singh receives a letter announcing the approval of his pension, but it’s accompanied by the faint scent of irony. His first check arrives just in time for him to finally treat himself to that long-awaited vacation—a trip to the local grocery store where he can finally afford more than just instant noodles.

And so, the saga of pensions continues, a never-ending ballet of bureaucracy and hope, where the only certainty is uncertainty. In the end, Mr. Singh might not have found the paradise he envisioned, but he has a good story to share with his friends at the park—a testament to their shared struggle, proving that even in the face of absurdity, laughter is the best pension of all.

*

© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Contact : Mo. +91 73 8657 8657, Email : [email protected]

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 New Art of Leaders Shedding Tears. 

☆ Witful Warmth # 20 ☆

☆ Satire ☆ The New Art of Leaders Shedding Tears ☆ Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’ ☆

When we look at leaders who wail after not seeing their name on the list of those who dream of greenery, prosperity, and development, a natural question arises: Is their entire political career based solely on opportunism? How many pairs of glasses must the leader have used to read the ticket list, yet none of these glasses ever weakened so much that they couldn’t reveal the right name. Ah! Is this the true essence of politics?

Let us sprinkle some satire on the plight of these familiar tear-shedding leaders. Once considering themselves lions of politics, these leaders now howl like those same lions after seeing a list without their names. It seems as though the political cup, into which we all hoped to pour ourselves, has now begun to overflow from the eyes of these leaders. Crying over a name not appearing on the list is indeed a comic-tragic spectacle that words can barely capture.

Shedding tears over not seeing their name on the list is the latest achievement of these leaders. These are the same leaders who once claimed to wipe away others’ tears, and now, they’re seen shedding tears themselves. Leaders who once roared like lions are now crying like jackals. Oh! Politics is like a colorful blanket, showing shadows on one side and weaving irony on the other.

When these leaders supported the Agniveer scheme, it wasn’t surprising. But now, as Agniveer-style politics has come back to bite them, tears flow like rivers. Their situation has become like watering a garden but offering snacks to each plant instead. Everything was fine as long as their tanks were full, but now that wings have sprouted, they lament the lack of water.

At one time, these leaders boasted when their names were absent from the unemployment lists. Now, seeing their own name missing from the list, they cry and create an uproar. Oh, dear leader! When it was time to throw around the unemployment list, no one thought these same tears would someday knock on their own doors.

The political journey of these leaders is like a play where each scene tells a different story, and in the end, everything seems worthless. Now, these leaders resemble bad actors in that play, who, when they step onto the stage, only perform strange antics. Is this the real meaning of their politics—that as long as there’s profit, they smile, and when trouble strikes, they shed tears?

The leader’s condition resembles that of a drowning man grasping at straws. These leaders once, like the mythical Sanjeevani herb, reassured the public with their promises, but when faced with adversity themselves, they unleashed a flood of tears. Oh, brother! Instead of crying over your name missing from the list, had you thought about those whose recruitment was canceled, your heart might have grown bigger!

In the midst of all this, both the politics of the leader and their art of shedding tears have become subjects worthy of deep study. This satire is not merely a comment but a harsh question on the reality of our politics. Is politics merely a search for opportunities, or does it genuinely have anything to do with public welfare?

The leader’s tears over not finding their name on the list adds a new layer to the theater of politics. It is crucial to understand that shedding tears in politics is easy, but doing true deeds and working for the welfare of society is the real challenge. Until these leaders emerge from their tears, their politics will remain a humorous play.

*

© Dr. Suresh Kumar Mishra ‘Uratript’

Contact : Mo. +91 73 8657 8657, Email : [email protected]