An award means a lot to me. It brings happiness along with a kind

In every age, there are voices that carry not just melody, but truth. Among them, Shreya Ghoshal, the songstress of India, spoke with the wisdom of one who understands the weight behind applause. She said: “An award means a lot to me. It brings happiness along with a kind of fear. It brings fear because the award is the responsibility which audiences have put on us. So a singer winning an award should always try to give best of him to the audiences.” These words, though gentle, hold the depth of ancient teaching—the eternal balance between honor and humility, between joy and duty. For every crown that adorns the head is also a burden upon the soul, and every award is not the end of a journey, but the beginning of a greater one.

In her reflection, Shreya reveals the hidden side of success: that recognition is not a reward, but a summons. It calls the artist to rise higher, to refine their gift, and to honor the trust of those who believe in them. When one is praised, one must not rest upon the laurels of glory, but awaken to the responsibility that glory brings. For the applause of many is fleeting, but the faith of the people is sacred. The fear she speaks of is not the trembling of insecurity—it is the holy fear of failing the love that others have placed in one’s hands. Such fear is not weakness; it is conscience.

In the ancient world, this truth was known to all who bore greatness. Consider Alexander the Great, who after conquering much of the known world, wept not for joy but for the burden of his victories. He said, “The end of my conquests is only the beginning of my duties.” Though celebrated by millions, his heart knew that power is a trial, not a treasure. So too does the artist, when honored, inherit a new kind of labor—the labor of continuing to be worthy of love. The audience, like a kingdom, places its faith in the one who creates beauty, and the true creator must answer that faith with devotion.

In this way, Shreya’s words echo the wisdom of the gurus and poets of old, who taught that the measure of mastery is not praise, but perseverance. The true artist serves something greater than self—the audience, the art, the divine voice that sings through them. To win an award is to be entrusted with the hopes of the people, to become a vessel for their emotions, dreams, and memories. And so, she reminds us: every note sung after that moment must carry greater sincerity, greater care, greater reverence. This is not merely artistry—it is seva, the sacred service of giving one’s best to the world.

Think of Rabindranath Tagore, who, when awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature, did not bask in triumph. Instead, he said, “The world honors me today, but I must now prove worthy of its honor.” He returned to his work with renewed humility, devoting himself to education and art, never allowing fame to silence his conscience. The greatest souls do not see their awards as ornaments—they see them as reminders of purpose, tokens of the world’s expectation that they must continue to give light. So it is with every true artist, and so it must be with each of us.

Let this be the lesson to all who seek excellence: joy without humility becomes arrogance, and recognition without responsibility becomes ruin. The one who receives must also give; the one who is lifted high must bend low. To create something that touches hearts is a gift from above, but to sustain that gift demands courage, patience, and sacrifice. The award, then, is not a crown of gold, but a torch passed forward, illuminating the path of duty and discipline.

So, children of the future, when your time of recognition comes—whether it be a song sung, a task completed, or a dream fulfilled—receive it not with pride alone, but with gratitude and resolve. Feel the joy, but also the sacred fear. For that fear will keep you true; it will remind you to serve, to strive, to give your best to those who believe in you. As Shreya Ghoshal teaches, the greatest award is not what you receive, but what you continue to become because of it. And when your work uplifts the hearts of others, that is when you shall truly have honored every song, every soul, and every breath of divine inspiration entrusted to you.