Thus have I heard:
At one time the Radiant One was dwelling at Jeta’s Grove in the park of Anāthapiṇḍika near Sāvatthī. Now at that time the bhikkhu Kokāliya approached the Radiant One, and having done so saluted him and sat down to one side. Seated there Kokāliya bhikkhu said this to the Radiant One: “Sir, Sāriputta and Moggallāna are of evil desires, under the influence of evil desires.”
When this was said the Radiant One spoke to the bhikkhu Kokāliya: “Don’t say this Kokāliya, don’t say so! Clear your mind towards Sāriputta and Moggallāna for they are very friendly.” A second time Kokāliya repeated his allegation and the Radiant One replied in the same way. An even a third time Kokāliya spoke his accusation and the Radiant One replied.
After this the bhikkhu Kokāliya rose from his seat, saluted the Radiant One and circumambulating him, keeping him on the right, departed. Only a short time after he left, Kokāliya’s whole body broke out in boils the size of mustard seeds, then grew to the size of green-gram, then to chickpeas, then to jujube seeds, then to jujube fruits, then to myrobalan fruits, then to young bael fruits, then to mature bael fruits, and when they had reached this size all over his body, blood and pus was discharged and Kokāliya died. After death, he appeared in the Paduma Hell as a result of hardening his heart against Sāriputta and Moggallāna.
Then as the night passed, Brahmā Sahampati of great radiance illuming the whole of Jetavana, came to the Radiant One and after saluting him stood to one side and said this: “Venerable, the bhikkhu Kokāliya has died and appeared subsequently in the Paduma Hell as a result of hardening his heart against Sāriputta and Moggallāna.”
When this was said, a certain bhikkhu spoke to the Radiant One thus: “How long, venerable, is life in the Paduma Hell?”
“Bhikkhu, life in the Paduma hell is surely long, not easy to reckon in terms of years, of hundreds of years, of thousand of years, in tens of hundreds of thousands of years.”
“But can a simile be made, sir?”
“It can, bhikkhu. Suppose that there was a Kosalan cartload of twenty measures of sesame seed, and that from this a man might take a single seed every century. That Kosalan cartload of twenty measures of sesame seeds would be more quickly used up in that way than would a lifetime in the Abbuda Hell. Moreover, bhikkhu, there are twenty lifetimes in the Abbuda Hell to equal one in Nirabbuda Hell … twenty in Nirabbuda to equal one Ababa … twenty in Ababa to equal one Aṭaṭa … twenty in Aṭaṭa to equal one Ahaha … twenty in Ahaha equal to one Kumuda … one Sogandhika … one Uppālaka … one Puṇḍarīka … one Paduma. It is in Paduma that Kokāliya bhikkhu has arisen for hardening his heart against Sāriputta and Moggallāna.
The Radiant One spoke thus and having said this spoke further (these verses).
For every person come to birth,
an axe is born within their mouths,
with which these fools do chop themselves
when uttering evil speech.Who praises one deserving blame,
or blames that one deserving praise,
ill-luck does tear by means of mouth
and from such ill no happiness finds.Trifling the unlucky throw,
by dice destroying wealth,
even all one’s own, even oneself as well;
compared to that greater “throw”—
the thinking ill of Sugatas.Having maligned the Noble Ones
with voice and mind directing ill,
one then arrives at (self-made) hell,
of millions of aeons (slow to end).With one denying truth there goes to hell
that one who having done, says “I did not”.
Humans having made such karmas base,
equal are they in the other world.Whoso offends the inoffensive one,
who’s innocent and blameless, both,
upon that fool does evil fall,
as fine dust flung against the wind.That person prone to coveting
will speak of others in dispraise—
one faithless and ill-mannered too,
jealous, set on slandering.One foul mouthed, of baseless talk,
ignoble, treacherous, evil, doing
wrong deeds, luckless, ill-begotten human scum—
Speak little here! Or else hell-dweller be!Dirt do you scatter for your own happiness
whenever you revile those who are good,
faring through the world many evils you have done,
in the long night falling down a precipice.No one’s karma is destroyed,
truly as Master it returns;
so the foolish misery bring
upon themselves in future time.Bashed by bars of iron,
iron spikes’ edges bite,
and the food appropriately is
like white-hot balls of iron.And softly speak no speakers there,
they hasten not to help nor to safety lead,
they enter all-directions fire,
on burning ember-mats they lie.Tangled they are in fiery nets,
and pounded there with hammers of iron,
and led, immersed, through darkness blind,
spreading in all directions.And enter they in iron cauldrons afire,
in which for long they’re stowed;
rising up and sinking down,
bubbling in masses of fire.There the evil-doers cook
in a mixed stew of blood and pus;
to whatever direction they turn,
there they fester at the touch.Then the evil-doers cook
in worm-infested waters;
and cannot flee for there are sides,
vast vessels with all surfaces concavities.There looms the sharp-edged Swordleaf scrub—
they enter and their limbs are slashed;
and there with hooks their tongues are seized,
pulled to and fro, they’re beaten up.They draw near Vetaraṇī Creek,
biting and bladed, hard to cross;
there headlong down the foolish fall—
these evil-doers evil done.Then while they wail, the mottled flocks
of ebon ravens them devour;
jackals, hounds, great vultures, hawks,
and crows rend them and ravage there.Misery unmitigated, this mode of life,
which evil-doers get to see,
therefore let one in life’s remainder be
not careless, one who does what should be done.Those who know reckon the term
of these in the Paduma Hell in loads
of sesame, five myriad lakhs of seeds
and then, twelve hundred lakhs beside.Thus are Hell’s many ills here told,
and terms that must be spent there too;
towards, therefore, those praiseworthy,
the friendly, pure—guard both words and thoughts.