Earlier this week, I had the unfortunate pleasure of experiencing the sin of theft firsthand. My apartment was violated and several high-priced electronic devices were stolen from me and my roommates. This prompted me to convert to a religion this week that would comfort me with tales of vengeance and retribution (Thieves, I wish upon you the fury of a thousand hells).
Now, I could stay Jewish and seek the aid of Yahweh’s power. I could also convert to Christianity and pray that Christ will damn those sinners to the unholy abyss.
Instead, I have chosen the less active, but still retaliatory religion, Hinduism. You see, as a Hindu, I can lazily sit on my couch, do nothing of worth and know my burning revenge will be enacted for me. That, boys, girls and detestable bandits, is the magic of “Karma.”
Before I could cast my incantations and sacrifice a dozen livestock to a hundred Hindu Gods, each with a thousand arms and a thousand heads, to invoke the pain of Karma on my enemies, I needed to learn a bit more about the inner-workings of the universe.
After climbing mountains, traversing great plains, crossing flowing rivers and checking the local Yellow Pages, I found my own personal guru.
This guru was a charming little fella. He was missing some teeth, talked with an accent that reminded me of Hadji from Johnny Quest and looked like a dirty hippie. But I was there to learn, not judge.
As I sat down to listen to his sermon on the phenomenon of Karma, he offered me a puff of his hookah. Now, I don’t really buy into that stuff (except from my friend back home, but he gets it for me really cheap), so I declined. I was there to learn how to exact my hateful revenge, not go on a vision quest while eating a bag of Doritos.
To be clear, I had chosen Hinduism because I wanted revenge on my assailants, but I didn’t want to actually put any effort into it. I was told that Karma strikes bad fortune against those who do bad deeds. This struck me with much confusion, however. Wanting my guru to clarify, I asked, “Wouldn’t covering my enemies in a burning hot sugar substance require a lot of effort on my part?”
“My son,” he said, “we are dealing with Karma, not caramel. Hinduism is not a religion of vengeance, and Karma is not a force of retribution.”
At that point, I began to lose interest in what he had to say and dazed off into fanciful daydreams. Although, that could be attributed to the second-hand hookah smoke.
Eventually, I began to understand what my newfound guru was trying to explain to me about Karma. I was disappointed to find out Karma is not just about good things happening to good people and bad things happening to bad people. If that were the case, Paris Hilton’s career would have ended long ago for subjecting people to her singing voice (my ears still bleed when I think of it).
Karma is actually a moral law of cause and effect. If people commit a bad deed, it will negatively affect them in the future.
Most religions have moral codes similar to this, but Hinduism uses it in a unique way. You see, reincarnation is a very important aspect of the Hindu faith, and Karma plays a large role in that. Negative Karma doesn’t necessarily affect you in this life or cause a bad thing to happen to you in the next. Karma actually helps shape the outcome of the future, either through circumstances, events or birth. Boston College students must have really done some messed up things in their past lives.
For the moment, there is nothing I can really do to get revenge on the thieves who broke into my apartment. I can only hope in some future life they turn into some bug I can step on or into the next plant my guru smokes.
Nicholas Shaman, a senior in the College of Arts and Sciences, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press. He can be reached at [email protected]