Karma in Jainism unfolds much like a cosmic ledger: every thought, word or deed kicks up subtle karmic particles that latch onto the soul. First comes asrava, the inflow, triggered by passions—anger, pride, deceit or attachment—pouring karmic dust onto an otherwise pristine mirror. Almost in the blink of an eye (it’s said, in the time it takes for the mind to flicker), bandha binds these particles, coloring future experiences.

Once bound, karma nidhanas—or “seed karmas”—lie dormant according to their own timetable. Some bear fruit instantly, like sour grapes popping up after a hasty insult; others lie buried for aeons, waiting patiently until life’s circumstances flip their switch. Jain texts describe stages—prarambha (onset), sthiti (duration), gharma (peak intensity), udaya (ripening) and apaya (decay)—each marking how long a karmic account remains active.

Escaping this cycle means mastering two key moves: samvara and nirjara. Samvara is the skillful art of plugging new leaks—through strict vows, mindful speech and modern mindfulness trends (think silent digital retreats trending on social media). This stops fresh karmic debris from piling up. Nirjara, on the other hand, is actively sweeping away existing layers via deep austerities or meditation—akin to autumn stripping away leaves in one glorious, sweeping gesture.

Shedding often starts gradually; a few lighter karmas fall away through conscious living, much like autumn leaves drifting off a tree. Occasionally, intense practice or a powerful insight sparks saṃghāta-nirjarā—sudden, dramatic release—comparable to lightning striking on a stormy night, clearing the air in a flash.

Timelines vary wildly. For some, daily practices yield noticeable calm within weeks; for heavier karmic loads, liberation requires many lifetimes of dedicated effort. All progress, however small, pays dividends—gradually revealing a soul unshackled, shimmering ever closer to moksha.