Why is Zaira Wasim so upset about Kashmiri schoolgirls dancing on Independence Day?

What exactly is so disturbing about a group of schoolgirls dancing on a stage on Independence Day? Is it the fact that they are girls? That they are from Kashmir? Or that the Waqf Board chairperson, Dr Syed Darakhshan Andrabi, was present at the event?Because none of those things answer the most basic question: what, exactly, did these children do wrong? They danced, performed at a school function. They celebrated India's 80th Independence Day with their classmates. And for some reason, that became a conversation about whether a religious body should have allowed them to do so.Former actor Zaira Wasim recently shared a lengthy post on X after coming across a video of schoolgirls performing at an Independence Day celebration in Kashmir. She made it clear that her criticism was aimed at the institution, not the children. But the questions she raises about the performance deserve to be questioned too.Wasim wrote: "Why is the default way of involving children, and particularly girls, in public celebrations to make them dance to irrelevant songs?" She went on to ask why institutions were not giving children more opportunities to "think, create, learn, discuss, build or contribute," particularly in Kashmir, with its rich intellectual and educational legacy. She concluded that the real question was "what an institution chooses to facilitate, endorse and place under its own banner."But let's start with that word: "irrelevant." Irrelevant to whom? The song the girls were performing to was Ya Tuli Khanjar Maare, a well-known Kashmiri composition by widely celebrated Sufi singer Abdul Rashid Hafiz. The song remains part of the region's musical tradition. So what makes it an "irrelevant" song? It is Kashmiri, rooted in the region's cultural history and children were performing it at a celebration of India. What, precisely, is objectionable about that combination?And now let's ask the major question: Why does a school dance suddenly need a moral explanation?Watch any Independence Day celebration in India. Children dance to regional songs. They perform patriotic numbers. They sing, act, recite poetry, dress up as freedom fighters and rehearse for weeks to get their two-minute moment on stage right. This happens in elite schools and government schools. It happens in metropolitan cities and small towns, in schools with swimming pools and schools where children share textbooks. It happens everywhere.Nobody looks at a child dancing on an Independence Day stage and thinks: How intellectually regressive. We rather think: Look at those kids. They are excited, nervous and having fun. That is what school functions are supposed to be.So why, when the children happen to be Kashmiri girls, does a harmless school performance suddenly become a conversation about institutional morality? And why do we need to turn their dance into something it isn't? These girls weren't performing in a nightclub. They weren't making sexualised or provocative moves. They weren't being asked to perform something inappropriate on a Munni Badnaam or a Sheela Ki Jawani.They were schoolchildren dancing at their own school, in front of teachers, classmates and families, on a national occasion. Zaira chose to refer to them as "stage props." Here's a thought worth sitting with: who is turning them into props by framing them that way?The girls were not props in their own minds. They were performers, participating and celebrating. They were doing exactly what children do when they are given a stage and asked to enjoy themselves. The problem is not that the girls were dancing. It is probably that adults are looking at an entirely ordinary child's performance and loading it with meanings the children themselves have nothing to do with.Let's come to the Waqf board-bit of Zaira's statement. Because what exactly is the Waqf Board supposed to be?Zaira's argument rests partly on the idea that the Waqf Board is a religious body and therefore carries a particular responsibility to uphold Islamic values.The Jammu and Kashmir Waqf Board is, in fact, a statutory body entrusted with managing and developing Waqf properties across the Union Territory. Its official website says its responsibilities include shrines, mosques, graveyards, educational institutions and other Waqf properties, alongside charitable and welfare activities. It specifically says its educational institutions provide education to children from poor and disadvantaged families.So yes, the Board can be questioned about its policies. It can be questioned about how it runs schools, education, about religion and about anything it does in its official capacity. But why does a school dance need to become the test case for its moral legitimacy? So what if someone from the Waqf Board was invited to the school to enjoy and celebrate Independence Day with the school children? Why is a board whose primary responsibility is the administration of Waqf properties being asked to hold the moral compass of the Valley when nothing remotely immoral happened in the first place?What happens to the idea of education if a school is encouraged to teach children to think, create and contribute, but not to dance? Why are those things being treated as mutually exclusive? Can't a child learn mathematics in the morning and dance in the afternoon? Can't a girl learn about Kashmir's intellectual history and then get on stage with her friends? Can't an institution promote education, spirituality and culture without treating joy as some kind of ideological failure?There is another question that deserves to be asked: Why is the fact that these performers are girls repeatedly foregrounded?Would this conversation look quite the same if a group of schoolboys had been performing? Why does a girl's body, movement or presence on a stage so quickly become an institutional question? Why must a girl dancing publicly be explained, justified or defended? And why does her participation suddenly need a religious framework?This is where the debate becomes bigger than one video.For years, we have talked about giving girls confidence, agency and public presence. We tell them to speak up, participate, compete, lead and take up space. And then we see them on a stage - happy, confident, participating - and ask whether they should be there.What exactly are we trying to teach them? Is this really what freedom is supposed to look like?India's Independence Day is a celebration of freedom. Not just the freedom to vote, to stand under a flag and listen to a speech. But the freedom to participate in public life, to express yourself, sing, perform, celebrate your culture and to be visible.And yes, to dance. This is India. Indians dance at weddings. Indians dance at festivals. Indians dance when their cricket team wins. Indians dance in school corridors, on college stages, at annual functions, at cultural programmes and at Independence Day celebrations. We dance when we are happy.So why should Kashmir be expected to demonstrate some more sanitised, joyless version of Indian-ness? Why should Kashmiri schoolgirls be denied one of the most ordinary forms of celebration simply because the guest sitting at the front is associated with an institution of religious identity?There is an uncomfortable comparison here that we should not be afraid to make.Afghanistan under the Taliban is an example of what happens when women's and girls' participation in public life is relentlessly restricted in the name of morality and religious control. Girls are barred from secondary and higher education, women's movement and access to public spaces are heavily restricted, and Taliban authorities have also prohibited women from singing or allowing their voices to be heard publicly.Is that what we want to normalise as the benchmark for women's dignity? Because surely there is a difference between saying, 'we want girls to be educated, confident and intellectually engaged' and saying, 'a girl dancing on stage is itself a problem.'There is a difference between questioning an institution and policing a child's expression. There is a difference between preserving faith and shrinking a girl's world. Because India is not Taliban-controlled Afghanistan. Indian girls go to school, they speak in public, sing, dance, perform, compete, make mistakes and laugh with their friends. They grow up with the freedom to decide what kind of woman they want to become.That is not a threat to Indian culture. That is part of what Indian freedom looks like. And we can't just miss the big irony sitting in Zaira Wasim's question.In 2019, after working in three mainstream, successful films, she announced that she was leaving the film industry because she felt her career was conflicting with her religious beliefs and faith. She made a deeply personal choice about how she wanted to live her life. India gave her the space to make that choice and announce it publicly.That choice was hers. She was exercising agency. So shouldn't the same principle apply to these girls? Of course, they are children and their parents, families and institutions have responsibilities towards them. That goes without saying. But choosing to dance at a school function isn't some great ideological surrender.Education is not the enemy of joy. Zaira asks why institutions don't give children more to think about, create, learn, discuss, build or contribute. They should. Absolutely. But why assume that dancing means they aren't thinking?Arts education matters too. Music, dance, theatre, cultural expression - everything matters. A child doesn't become less intelligent because she learns choreography. She doesn't become less spiritual because she sings. And for sure, she doesn't become less educated because she enjoys performing.There are plenty of legitimate debates to have about Waqf institutions, religious organisations, education policy and the role of faith in public institutions. A group of girls dancing at a school Independence Day event doesn't need to be one of them.A country that fought for its freedom should be very careful about teaching its children that freedom comes with a list of movements they are allowed to make.Mahjoor, the Shayar-e-Kashmir perhaps said it best:"O bulbul, let the freedom urge possess your soul!Bid good bye to your cage, step out,Gather your flowers and enjoy their bloom!"Let the girls dance. Let them be free.- EndsPublished By: Vineeta KumarPublished On: Aug 19, 2026 14:14 IST