In the ever-evolving landscape of Indian dance, recognition has always been a double-edged sword. The recent feature by *The New Indian Express* on "Dancing Honours" thrusts an important conversation back into the spotlight: Are we celebrating the art form, or are we simply ticking boxes?
On the surface, any honour given to a dancer is a win for the community. For decades, classical and folk dancers have fought for the same media airtime and institutional respect afforded to Bollywood and commercial acts. Seeing a news outlet dedicate space to a dancer’s achievements—whether it’s a Bharatanatyam arangetram or a contemporary fusion show—feels like validation. It tells the next generation that there is a viable path beyond just reality TV.
But here is where I pause. The article hints at a troubling trend: honours that feel increasingly transactional. We live in an age where "awards" are handed out like flyers at a mall opening. Everyone is a "master," and every performance is "pathbreaking." When the bar for honouring is set so low, does the act of honouring still hold weight?
For the dance community, the real honour isn’t in the certificate. It is in the respect for the lineage. If we look at traditions like Odissi or Kathakali, passing the torch was a sacred, lifetime commitment. Today, I worry that "honours" have become a shortcut to legitimacy rather than a reflection of genuine mastery.
**My take?** No. We must guard against the degradation of artistic recognition. Yes, we should celebrate dancers. We should give them platforms. But an honour must demand sacrifice, time, and a visible impact on the art form.
The dance world doesn’t need more empty titles. It needs honest critics, supportive audiences, and genuine mentors. If an honour doesn’t make the artist work harder or inspire a student to practice longer, it’s just noise.
In 2026, let’s stop handing out dancing honours like participation trophies. Let’s make them mean something again.
