Modern education is founded on the freedom to question. The guru-shishya tradition does not permit this.
A student recently asked me for my opinion on the traditional guru-shishya system, in which teachers transmit knowledge to students (usually referred to as disciples), who often even live with them and are totally dedicated to them. In this system, the word of guru is final. Recalling a discussion we had in class, he wanted to know what relevance it might have now. Is it positive or entirely negative? He also inquired about its significance in the context of learning music.
Pondering over his question, I recalled an article written five years ago by musician TM Krishna. Krishna had argued that the guru-shishya tradition – or rather, the institution it represents – ought to be dismantled altogether.
The guru-disciple relationship, he said, is founded on a permanent imbalance of power. What is striking is that this imbalance is not merely tolerated: it is celebrated. Within this structure, the disciple is expected not only to submit to the guru’s authority but to surrender herself entirely to him. The flaw lies in the very architecture of the institution. Questioning the guru is treated as a transgression. Dissent does not even enter the realm of possibility.
In music, as in certain other artistic fields, there is no shortage of stories recounting the severe trials imposed by gurus before they agree to accept someone as a student. These trials are rarely related to knowledge or aptitude. Instead, the aspirant is often required to perform domestic labour for weeks on end – washing the guru’s utensils, cleaning the house, running errands. Only once loyalty and devotion have been sufficiently demonstrated does the guru agree to impart instruction.
The guru is frequently imagined as possessing divine attributes. The philosopher Aurobindo suggests that when one surrenders before the guru, one is not surrendering to the human being but to the divine element within him. But who certifies the presence of this divine element? By what signs is it to be recognised?
Krishna’s article was written in the context of allegations of sexual abuse made by disciples against one of the the renowned Gundecha brothers in Hindustani classical music. He observed that whispers about such conduct have circulated for years within the worlds of music and dance, yet very few find the courage to speak openly.
The cost of going up against powerful gurus can be prohibitively high. Gurus may be rivals in professional matters, but when it comes to preserving the authority of the guru as an institution, they can close ranks. An unwritten pact of silence operates here – one that was clearly visible in the near-total silence of star musicians during the Gundecha controversy.
In the guru–shishya tradition, the guru is beyond question. His decisions cannot be challenged. Drawing inspiration from Krishna’s essay, an officer of the Indian armed forces wrote an article in which he talked about an incident from his training days.
