The Indian Habit of Touching Elderly Feet: A Tradition That Needs Rethinking

 In India, touching the feet of elders is a gesture so ingrained in the cultural fabric that it’s almost instinctive. Walk into a family gathering, a wedding, or even a casual meeting with someone older, and you’ll see it: a younger person bending down, fingertips grazing the feet of an elder, often followed by the elder’s hand raised in blessing. It’s framed as a sign of respect, humility, and reverence for age and wisdom. But as India strides into a modern, globalized era, it’s worth asking: Is this practice still relevant? Or does it carry regressive undertones that we’ve overlooked for too long?

What Does It Mean to Touch Someone’s Feet?

At its core, the act of touching an elder’s feet—known as pranam or charan sparsh—is a physical manifestation of hierarchy. Age, in Indian tradition, is equated with wisdom, authority, and moral superiority. By bending down, the younger person symbolically places themselves beneath the elder, acknowledging their subordinate status. The elder, in turn, blesses the younger, reinforcing their role as a benevolent guide. It’s a ritual rooted in the ancient guru-shishya (teacher-student) dynamic and the broader framework of familial and social order.

But let’s unpack this further. The gesture isn’t just about respect—it’s about submission. The physical act of lowering oneself to the ground, often in front of others, signals deference in a way that’s starkly visible. It’s not a mutual exchange; it’s a one-way street where the younger person humbles themselves, and the elder accepts that humility as their due. In a society that historically prized obedience and conformity, this made sense. But in 2025, as India grapples with individualism, equality, and a youth-driven cultural shift, the symbolism feels increasingly out of step.

The Regressive Underbelly

The problem with touching feet isn’t the act itself—it’s what it represents in a modern context. First, it assumes that age inherently deserves reverence, regardless of merit. An elder could be wise and kind, or they could be petty, abusive, or out of touch—yet the ritual demands the same respect. This blind veneration dismisses the idea that respect should be earned through actions, not granted by default based on years lived.

Second, it reinforces outdated power dynamics. In a country where patriarchy and gerontocracy (rule by the elderly) have long held sway, the practice subtly upholds the notion that the young—especially women and marginalized groups—must bow to those above them in the social ladder. It’s no coincidence that you’re more likely to see a daughter-in-law touching her in-laws’ feet than a son-in-law doing the same. The gesture, while framed as noble, often doubles as a tool to keep certain groups in their “place.”

Compare this to other parts of the world. In Western cultures, respect for elders exists but rarely takes such a submissive form. A handshake, a nod, or a verbal “thank you” suffices—gestures that maintain dignity for both parties. In Japan, bowing is common, but it’s a mutual act, calibrated by context and not exclusively tied to age. Even in China, where Confucian values emphasize filial piety, physical prostration is less routine in daily life today. India’s foot-touching stands out as uniquely hierarchical, a relic of a time when questioning authority was taboo.

Why It Must Go

Tradition isn’t inherently bad—many Indian customs, like hospitality or community celebration, enrich life. But not every practice deserves to survive unchanged. The habit of touching feet clashes with the values of a progressive society: equality, agency, and mutual respect. It’s a silent endorsement of the idea that worth is tied to age rather than character, competence, or contribution.

Imagine a workplace where a young, innovative employee must touch the feet of an older, less capable boss. Or a family where a teenager with bold ideas feels compelled to bow to a grandparent who dismisses them outright. These aren’t hypotheticals—they’re the quiet tensions playing out across India. The practice doesn’t just burden the young; it infantilizes them, stunting the kind of dialogue that could bridge generational gaps.

And let’s be honest: it’s often performative. In urban India especially, the gesture can feel like a rote obligation—done to avoid judgment rather than from genuine reverence. If the sentiment behind it is hollow, why cling to the form?

A Path Forward

Ditching the habit doesn’t mean disrespecting elders. Respect can be shown in countless ways—listening to their stories, seeking their advice, or simply spending time with them. These acts honor their humanity without requiring anyone to literally or figuratively lower themselves. India’s youth, who are already challenging norms around caste, gender, and authority, deserve a culture that reflects their aspirations—not one that tethers them to an unequal past.

The world isn’t bending down to touch India’s feet anymore—it’s engaging as an equal. Maybe it’s time we did the same within our own borders. Let’s stand tall, look each other in the eye, and build respect that doesn’t demand anyone kneel.