Guru Purnima special: How Gen Z is redefining the rules of learning in classical arts

Published 30 July 2026 · india

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

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 to the enduring value of personal connections. “Training in dance is not limited to teaching technique; it’s also about emotional mentorship. The trust that develops between teacher and student over the years is more valuable than technical accomplishment or stage success. I witnessed this during the workshop we conducted in Virginia, U.S., for 25 years. I looked forward to those sessions as much as the participants did.” For the Dhananjayans, such experiences embody the essence of the guru–shishya bond, one 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 — a formative journey that influenced their lives and artistry. Yet, their teaching philosophy has evolved with the times.

“The guru-sishya parampara may not be a practical model today, as the relationship has undergone a drastic 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 more exciting. We adapted to that reality early on.” While some gurus adapted to these changing equations, Kumudini Lakhia, among the country’s most progressive dance educators 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 approach with her own students, allowing to express themselves without fear and think critically. Her foremost disciple, Aditi Mangaldas, who has carried that legacy forward through her own groundbreaking Kathak choreographies, says: “Kumibehn’s aim was never to create clones or encourage mindless replication. I truly understood the significance of that when I launched my own dance company.” Reflecting on the teacher-disciple relationship, Aditi says it must be constantly reassessed.