Bhagavad Gita Explains Why Krishna Is The Taste In Water And Light

Context: where the line appears and why it matters

One of the most oft-quoted images from the Bhagavad Gītā is Krishna’s string of “I am…” statements in which the divine is located in ordinary, tangible realities — for example, “I am the taste in water, the light of the sun and moon.” These verses are part of the Gītā’s wider teaching on how the Absolute can be both immanent (present within the world) and transcendent (beyond it). Different editions and translators group these declarations in the sections of the Gītā that treat divine knowledge and divine opulences, so readers from different traditions may find slightly different verse numbers. What matters for practice and theology is the rhetorical move: making the sacred visible inside the ordinary.

Surface meaning: water, taste and light

At a simple level these images are concrete metaphors:

• Rasa — “taste” in water: suggests an invisible quality that gives water its enjoyment or essence. The phrase points to a subtle, pervading presence — something you experience, not just see.
• Jyoti — light of the sun and moon: evokes illumination and the power that enables vision and the cycles of day and night; it is both physical light and a metaphor for knowledge or consciousness.

Taken together, taste and light exemplify how Krishna (or divinity, in wider readings) is announced as the animating principle inside everyday phenomena: the felt quality of a sip of water and the power that lights the world.

Philosophical readings: immanence, transcendence and vibhūti

Scholars and traditional commentators apply several overlapping frameworks:

• Immanence: Many readings — from Vedāntic to contemporary — stress that these lines teach God’s presence within creation. Krishna is not a distant cause only; he is also the inner flavour and light of things.
• Transcendence preserved: At the same time, the Gītā consistently maintains that the divine transcends His manifestations. The imagery suggests participation rather than identity: the sun’s light illumines but is not exhausted by the sun’s physicality.
• Vibhūti or divine opulence: Another classic interpretive strand sees such “I am…” verses as a list of divine vibhūti (manifestations). In this view the Lord displays divine powers through particular aspects of the universe — taste, light, sound — that point back to his sovereign reality.

How classical schools read it

• Advaita (Shankara): Read as pointers to Brahman’s immanence that aid jñāna (knowledge). Manifestations like taste or light are ultimately māyā’s play; knowing the substratum (Brahman) dissolves the apparent plurality.
• Viśiṣṭādvaita (Rāmānuja): Emphasises a qualified non-duality: the Lord’s attributes are real and the world is his body. The divine presence in taste and light underscores the Lord’s personal involvement with creation.
• Dvaita (Madhva) and bhakti-centred schools: Tend to stress the Lord’s personhood and agency: such references reveal God’s immanence yet do not reduce the world to the divine essence—devotion, not solely knowledge, is the route to communion.
• Gaudiya/Chaitanya tradition: Reads these images through the language of rasa (relational flavour); the Divine’s presence in the world is an invitation to loving exchange rather than metaphysical identification.

Scriptural tone and intent

The rhetoric of “I am” in the Gītā is theological pedagogy. Krishna aims to reorient Arjuna’s perception: to teach that the sacred is not only in temples or rituals but is also the power that makes experience possible. The images are not scientific claims about elements; they are soteriological — meant to prompt recognition, awe and right action.

Devotional and practical responses

How have devotees and spiritual practitioners used this passage?

• Contemplation and meditation that notice the divine in ordinary acts — drinking water, watching sunrise — as reminders of a sacred presence.
• Liturgical and bhakti practices: hymns and prayers that celebrate the Lord’s immanence (e.g., kīrtan, stotras that list divine opulences).
• Ethical reflection: seeing divinity in the world has informed care for nature and hospitality traditions in many lineages.

Practice note: If you adopt breath or fasting practices while meditating on such texts, consult a qualified teacher and your healthcare provider; these practices can affect health.

Why multiple readings are healthy

These short, poetic lines invite a plurality of responses. They can be read as metaphysics (what is ultimately real), pastoral theology (how one should live), or aesthetics (how one feels connected). Each Hindu school brings its hermeneutic priorities: some emphasize knowledge and non-duality, others dwell on personal relationship and devotion. That diversity is part of the Gītā’s enduring strength.

Questions worth keeping in mind

• Is the text describing identity (the divine is literally the taste/light) or participation (the divine is the source that makes taste/light possible)?
• How do ritual, scripture and daily practice interact in your own tradition to make such metaphors real or symbolic?
• Can recognising the sacred in ordinary things change ethics and environmental attitudes?

Final note

Whether read by a philosopher, a temple regular, or a first-time Gītā reader, the image of the divine as the taste in water and the light of the sun invites a simple but demanding shift: to notice the sacred inside the small textures of life. Different schools will explain that shift in different languages — jñāna, bhakti, vibhūti — but the practical effect can be the same: increased attention to what sustains and illumines our everyday world.