Moralpolicing begins quite early these days. Now, sanskari commissars ensured that Class 9 students didn’t see the iconic ‘Dancing Girl’ of Mohenjo-daro in its present form—with the torso uncovered. For decades, school students have seen the artefacts of the Indus Valley Civilisation, including the Dancing Girl, in the textbooks published by the National Council of Educational Research and Training (NCERT), an autonomous organisation established by the government in 1961. Its primary objective, its website says, was to assist and advice the Central and state governments on policies and programmes for qualitative educational development. Accordingly, its duties include preparation and publication of “model textbooks, supplementary materials, newsletters, journals, and educational kits, multimedia digital content, and other educational materials.” What kind of “model textbook” can preach moral policing over accurate presentation of facts and visuals? This was not the first time that sanskaris have objected to the famed bronze figurine, but their objections were reportedly brushed aside by “some government expert.” Still, the retouched photograph is featured in the opening chapter, ‘History of Arts,’ of Madhurima, the new arts education textbook for Class 9. In the doctored image, the figurine’s torso was shaded from the shoulders down. Historian Michel Danino, who headed the textbook development committee for NCERT’s new Class 6 social science books, had told a newspaper last month that the NCERT was against placing the Dancing Girl on the opening page of a chapter on Indus Valley Civilisation. Danino, who is no longer a member of the committee, said “shading of her [Dancing Girl’s] trunk is an act of censorship; unless we wish to return to Victorian morality, such prudishness is misplaced—should students, then, be barred from entering the National Museum, where the original figurine is housed, not to speak of many semi-nude or nude statues of goddesses, apsaras, etc.?” He expressed indignation at the creation of “a fake artefact which exists nowhere. That is just not done.” He is wrong: it is done in India—not merely done, but disturbingly normalised. Shading of the Dancing Girl’s torso is not an isolated lapse in judgement; it belongs to a long and growing tradition of sanitising history to suit contemporary notions of propriety. Instead of allowing students to encounter the past on its own terms, institutions entrusted with education are recasting it through the lens of present-day moral anxieties. The result is neither history nor pedagogy, but a carefully curated fiction.

The irony is difficult to miss. The same civilisation whose achievements are celebrated in textbooks is deemed unsuitable for students when represented through one of its most famous artefacts. A bronze figurine created nearly 4,000 years back is altered because modern gatekeepers fear that young readers may see what generations of scholars, museum visitors and schoolchildren have seen without scandal. The artefact survives; only its representation is censored. Such interventions reveal a troubling lack of confidence in both students and teachers. If adolescents can study wars, famines, social hierarchies and political violence, surely, they can also view an ancient sculpture in its original form. To suggest otherwise is to confuse education with protectionism and learning with moral supervision. Thankfully, the government has decided to restore the original Harappan Dancing Girl in textbooks. At least, for now.