This year’s Guru Purnima felt markedly different. Coming in the wake of a major student-led protest and an unusual moment of collective introspection, it highlighted a generational shift with young people demanding to be heard and asserting their agency. That impulse is also reshaping the guru-sishya parampara in Indian classical arts, where the teacher-disciple relationship is becoming less hierarchical and more interactive.

Social media has accelerated this change, much like it recently helped build the narrative around Gen-Z across the country.

Yet, not every guru sees technology as central to this transformation. Veteran Bharatanatyam natyacharyas, Shantha and V.P. Dhananjayan, point out to the enduring value of personal connections. “Training in dance is not limited to teaching the technique; it’s also about emotional mentorship. The trust that develops between the teacher and student over the years is more valuable than technical accomplishment and stage success. Today one of our students from the U.S., who is visiting Chennai after several years, came all the way to our home to meet us.” For the Dhananjayans, such gestures embody the essence of the guru-sishya bond, which is defined by a lifelong sense of belonging.

Having trained at Kalakshetra, they say living on campus with guru Rukmini Devi meant learning far beyond the classroom — an experience that has sustained them as individuals and artistes all these years. Yet, their teaching philosophy has evolved over the years. “The guru-sishya parampara may not be a practical model today, as the relationship has undergone a transformation,” says Dhananjayan. “A guru can no longer place himself on a pedestal. You have to keep the channels of communication open and create an atmosphere where learning becomes easier and exciting. We adapted to that reality early on.”

While some gurus took to these changing equations, others like Kumudini Lakhia, who were among the country’s most progressive gurus and choreographers, held radical views on training at a time when unquestioning obedience was expected of disciples.

In a 2016 interview with The Hindu, the Kathak exponent, who passed away last year, spoke about how the rigour of the guru-sishya parampara, which required disciples to fall in line, often left her feeling claustrophobic. “After performing as a soloist for many years, I designed a distinct vocabulary for group choreography. And this was about 70 years ago, when the maharajs’ (male gurus) diktat couldn’t be defied,” she had said.

Kumudini adopted the same stance with her own students, letting them to express themselves without fear and think critically. Says her foremost disciple, Aditi Mangaldas, who has carried that legacy forward through her own groundbreaking choreographies in Kathak, “Kumibehn’s aim was never to create clones or encourage mindless replication. I truly understood its significance when I launched my own dance company.”

Speaking about the teacher-disciple relationship, Aditi says it must be constantly reassessed. “Every generation brings its own energy, prompting change and allowing the art form to evolve. This generation, even while learning a traditional art, insists on dialogue. They don’t want to be talked down to. As gurus, we cannot pretend to know everything. My dance company is full of Gen Z artistes, which means you have to be prepared to answer tough questions. But that’s not dissent; it means they are engaging with the art.”

The confidence to think independently stems from the unprecedented access to information today. Says well-known Carnatic musician Rithvik Raja, “A student can access several recordings, books and lectures with a few clicks. The guru is therefore no longer the sole custodian of knowledge. But information is not the same as wisdom. The role of the guru today is perhaps even more important, not as an invincible authority, but as someone who helps cultivate discernment, aesthetic sensitivity and the ability to listen deeply.”

Explaining how respect and questioning are not opposites, Rithvik says, “The finest teachers I have known have encouraged questions, disagreement and independent thinking. They have taught me not what to think, but how to think. Likewise, the best students are not those who imitate perfectly, but those who engage honestly and eventually find their own voice. The recent student protests remind us that young people deserve the freedom to express dissent. That principle should extend to every space, including artistic ones. But agency also comes with the responsibility to listen and to recognise that not every disagreement is oppression, just as not every exercise of authority is wisdom.”

For Rithvik, the ideal guru-sishya relationship is neither hierarchical nor transactional. In that sense, the relationship is not weakened by dialogue; it is strengthened by it.”

Today, the very foundations on which the guru-sishya system rested have changed. Institutional training, social media and global mobility have impacted both teaching and learning. “Multiple avenues for students to access information does not necessarily translate into the sustained immersion that was the hallmark of the traditional learning set up. At the same time, gurus are are also performers, administrators, entrepreneurs and public figures. The nature of both roles has changed,” says talented young Bharatanatyam artiste Meera Sreenarayanan.

Meera believes that before asking whether the guru-sishya dynamics have changed, we must ask whether the conditions that once defined a guru or a sishya still exist. “Perhaps, what many of us have today is a mentoring relationship. That does not diminish the traditional system’s value. But without mutual commitment, trust and accountability, the guru-sishya relationship risks becoming just a title rather than a lived practice,” she emphasises.

Published - July 29, 2026 07:09 pm IST