The perplexing relationship Indians share with feet

In most parts of India, people have a complex and paradoxical relationship with feet—both their own and others’. On one hand, touching the feet of elders or the divine is a deeply ingrained act of respect, symbolizing humility and reverence. On the other, allowing feet to touch people or objects like books is seen as an affront, often requiring an immediate apology. This curious contradiction places feet in a unique position: they are simultaneously revered and reviled, worthy and unworthy, godlike and disdainful. At first glance, this contradictory relationship with feet might seem like a harmless cultural oddity. However, when examined more deeply, it reveals troubling realities about Indian society.
Consider this scene, (which many of us have witnessed): someone accidentally touches a book with their foot. Immediately, they pick up the book, raise it to their forehead, and mutter an apology. Ask why, and the response will likely point to the sanctity of knowledge. Books are seen as sacred, and in Hindu culture associated with Saraswati, the Goddess of learning, and therefore, must never be disrespected. While this is a noble and morally righteous thought, the behaviours involved in apologizing for the disrespect caused raise important questions. First, why is the act of apologizing associated with lifting the book or object to our head? What is it about the head that makes it inherently more respectable than the feet and worthy of providing a symbolic resolution to our apology? And why, fundamentally, is the foot regarded as a symbol of irreverence?
Even in instances when we touch an undivine object, say a glass of water, with our feet, we are expected to apologize for it. Here, the explanation of sacredness is inapplicable. Rather, the reasoning behind apologizing to the glass of water is that feet, because they are closer to the ground, are usually dirty and touching an object with it, pollutes the object. Absurdly enough, feet are considered dirty, even if the person has just washed them or worn socks with shoes all day. The truth of the matter is that feet are cleaner than most other parts of our bodies because they are heavily sheltered. However, feet are still considered to be dirty. No other body part is treated with such disdain, and associated with being dirty or polluted, all the time.
Our hands, for instance, can be used to touch, hold, pray, and eat, all simultaneously, and we need not render an apology for them. Curious, isn’t it? How actual dirt on our hands is not considered dirty, but our feet represent dirt, even when they are clean. This separation of feet as being impure implies that certain parts of us are “lesser,” which can lead to feelings of shame or disconnection. More importantly, by treating feet as unclean or inferior compared to other parts of the body, we internalize a psychological division within ourselves in line with the representations made in the caste hierarchy. And in a society where body and mind are often perceived as distinct—and where purity and pollution are deeply embedded ideas—this hierarchy within the body mirrors larger caste-based societal structures.
The Manusmriti, the ancient Hindu legal text, metaphorically linked the caste system to the human body, attributing different roles and statuses to its various parts. According to it, the Brahmins considered the highest caste, are associated with the head, symbolizing intellect, wisdom, and spiritual authority. The Kshatriyas, tasked with protection and governance, are linked to the arms, representing strength and valour. The Vaishyas, responsible for trade and commerce, correspond to the thighs, signifying support and sustenance for society. Finally, the Shudras, relegated to labour and servitude, are equated with the feet, symbolizing service but also considered the "lowest" and most impure part of the body.
We apologize to a book for accidentally touching it with our feet by placing it on our heads. If we re-examine this act, through the lens of Manusmriti's metaphorical framework, the entrenched influence of caste becomes strikingly apparent. In our cultural psyche, feet are associated with impurity because they symbolically represent the lowest caste, the Shudra. Touching an object with our feet is then, seen as an act of polluting it. And how do we seek forgiveness for such "pollution"? By appealing to the highest authority, symbolized by the Brahmin, which in our bodies is represented by the head. This act of lifting the book to our head reflects the deeply ingrained hierarchical analogy where feet embody impurity and the head embodies purity. What might seem like a harmless cultural quirk is, in reality, a subtle perpetuation of caste ideology. This symbolic association of body parts with purity and impurity not only shapes personal behaviour but also reinforces societal hierarchies, influencing perceptions of respect, dignity, and social roles in contemporary India.
Ironically, feet, also become a source of power and status. In most Indian societies, feet are touched in reverence, by the hands of those considered socially subordinate—often younger individuals or people of lower status or caste. This ritual also perpetuates the ideas of subservience and inequality, normalizing the notion that one’s position in the social hierarchy dictates how one must behave toward others. Yet, the same feet become a symbol of disrespect when they come into contact with equals or superiors.
This paradox reflects the casteist underpinnings of Indian society and highlights the deeply ingrained ways we tie respect and dignity to social standing. In this sense, the reverence for feet—and the disdain for them—is not just about cultural tradition. It also serves as a subtle but powerful reminder of caste-based and hierarchy-based norms that continue to shape interpersonal dynamics in India. The paradoxical symbolism of feet reflects not just an aspect of Indian culture but also how we navigate respect, dignity, and inequality. By challenging these assumptions, we can begin to unravel the psychological and social hierarchies that have remained unquestioned for far too long.
Bhasker Malu is an Associate Professor at the Jindal Institute of Behavioural Sciences.