Let’s talk about what happened recently in Rishikesh—a place known worldwide as the "Yoga Capital," a hub of spirituality, and a growing center for arts and wellness.
A dance audition was interrupted when a member of a Hindu organization objected to the attire worn by female participants, calling it "inappropriate" and "not our culture." The incident, now circulating online, raises important questions about culture, expression, and who gets to define tradition in a modern, evolving India.
On one hand, cultural preservation is important. India has a rich heritage, and many feel a deep responsibility to protect it from what they perceive as outside influence or moral degradation. Dance, in its classical forms like Bharatanatyam or Kathak, is deeply rooted in spiritual and cultural symbolism. So, it’s understandable that some may feel protective when they see contemporary forms that appear to break from those traditions.
But here’s the flip side: culture is not static. It breathes, grows, and adapts. Dance, in all its forms, has always been a reflection of society—its struggles, its joys, its evolution. To freeze it in time is to deny its very essence.
What’s particularly concerning here is the gendered lens of the objection. The criticism was directed at *women’s* attire—calling it “inappropriate.” This isn’t just about clothing; it’s about control. It’s about who decides what women should wear, how they should move, and where they belong in public spaces.
Rishikesh itself is a fascinating microcosm of this tension. It’s a city where ancient ghats and ashrams coexist with cafes, adventure sports, and global tourists. It’s both deeply traditional and surprisingly cosmopolitan. So, whose culture are we talking about? The culture of a millennia-old civilization, or the culture of a vibrant, modern town attracting artists and seekers from around the world?
Artistic expression—especially dance—should be a space for freedom. It’s where stories are told, boundaries are pushed, and new forms of beauty are discovered. To police it in the name of culture is to risk silencing the very voices that keep culture alive.
I’m not saying tradition doesn’t matter. It does. But so does progress. So does a woman’s right to express herself through her art, in clothing that allows her to move, to breathe, to perform.
Maybe the real question isn’t “Is this our culture?” but “What kind of culture do we want to build?” One that is rigid, exclusive, and fearful? Or one that is dynamic, inclusive, and brave enough to embrace change?
Let’s keep the conversation going. What do you think?
