Reflecting on the Suffering of Hell Beings

Emotional and Cognitive Obscurations

There are two major sets of obscurations (sgrib-gnyis, two mental obstacles):

Emotional obscurations, which prevent liberation
Cognitive obscurations, which prevent omniscience.

Limited beings (sems-can, Skt. sattva, sentient beings), or those with limited minds, include everyone possessing either both types of obscurations or only the latter. Therefore, anyone who is not a Buddha is a limited being.

Among limited beings, anyone who has not overcome the emotional obscurations preventing liberation is a wandering being (’gro-ba, Skt. gāmin, transmigrator) subject to samsara, uncontrollably recurring rebirth and suffering.

There are three planes of existence: the planes of sensory desires (’dod-khams, Skt. kāma-dhātu, desire realms), ethereal forms (gzugs-khams, Skt. rūpa-dhātu, form realms) and formless beings (gzugs-med khams, Skt. arūpa-dhātu, formless realms). The limited beings in the first of these are compulsively attached to sensory objects (’dod-pa’i yon-tan, ’dod-yon, Skt. kāma-guṇa). Those in the second are unattached to such gross objects. The forms of sensory objects on their plane are ethereal, and they are attached to being absorbed in various levels of mental stability. The limited beings on the third of these planes have no physical form. The only thing physical about them is the subtlest energy-wind that acts as a support for their limited minds, and they do not pass through a bardo before taking a formless rebirth. They are unattached to the levels of mental stability found so desirable on the planes of ethereal forms. However, they have strong attachment for even more subtle and removed levels of absorption.

There are six life forms or types of wandering beings (’gro-ba rigs-drug) distributed on these three planes of existence. The trapped beings of the joyless realms (dmyal-ba, Skt. nairayika, hell creature), the clutching ghosts (yi-dags, Skt. preta, hungry ghost), creeping creatures (dud-’gro, Skt. tiryagyoni, animal), humans and the would-be divine (lha ma-yin, Skt. asura, anti-gods) are all on the plane of sensory desires. The divine beings (lha, Skt. deva, god) span all three, with their first six classes also on the plane of sensory desires (’dod-lha, Skt. kāma-deva, gods of the desire realm), the next seventeen on that of ethereal forms and the top four classes on the plane of formless beings.

The three worse rebirth states are as a trapped being, clutching ghost or creeping creature, while the three better ones are as a human, would-be divine or divine being. Sometimes, a presentation is made of five types of wandering beings (’gro-ba lnga), in which case the would-be divine are included in the category of divine beings.

When we become mindful of our inevitable death and realize how we are completely under the control of the disturbing emotions and the karmic impulses that obscure our minds, we see that after our deaths we will continue to take compulsive rebirth. The karmic forces on our mental continuums, whether positive or negative, are tainted (zag-bcas, Skt. sāsrava, associated with confusion) since they have been built up without a correct understanding of reality. Therefore, they will ripen into further uncontrollably recurring lives similarly filled with more confusion and suffering brought on by these disturbing emotions and the karmic impulses that we compulsively act out.

After we have passed through the bardo, in which we can only stay a maximum of seven seven-day periods, we must take rebirth if we still have limited minds obscured by disturbing emotions and attitudes. There are only two ways to go, up or down, and which way we go depends on the karmic forces we have built up on our mental continuums. If our karmic forces are predominantly positive, we will take one of the three better types of rebirth, and if mostly negative, one of the three worse.

It is not difficult to tell beforehand in which direction our next rebirth will be. Most of us spend all our time building up negative karmic forces (sdig-pa, Skt. pāpa, “sin”), and these can only lead to a disastrous future. Just look at today. How many times since we have woken up have we become angry, thought ill of others, criticized or been negative? How often have we done anything positive, constructive or beneficial for others?

There are three forces involved in making any action effective for bringing about a strong result. These are the intention (’dun-pa, Skt. chandas), the actual way the action is carried out and the attitude we have toward it in retrospect. If we examine our actions honestly, we will see that our negative ones are much stronger than our positive. Take for example building up a beneficial habit of the mind during a meditation session or attending a ceremony for honoring the spiritual masters. We do not want to get up early and attend to it, but we force ourselves out of guilt. During it, we participate only half-heartedly and full of mental wandering, constantly checking our watch. At the end, we feel, “Thank goodness it is over, what a waste of time,” and go back to bed. The positive karmic force built up in such a manner is extremely feeble.

However, look at a destructive action like killing a mosquito that we feel has violated our space by entering our room. We track it down with determination and glee, as if it were the world’s worst villain. With the single-minded thought, “I’m going to get that pest,” we never tire of the hunt and have no problems about mental wandering. Then, with vengeance, we smack it between our hands as hard as we can to make sure we squash every ounce of life from it. In the end, we feel proud of ourselves and rejoice, “I got that bastard!” This is a perfect and complete destructive action. With such a strong negative karmic force built up, are there any doubts as to where we will be reborn?

This is why the number of animals and insects far exceeds that of humans, the clutching ghosts outnumber the creeping creatures, and there are far more trapped beings than ghosts, while the number of divine beings is much less than that of humans. Once, the mad Drukpa Kunle (’Brug-smyon Kun-dga’ legs-pa) went up to the Potala Palace in Lhasa. Someone asked where he had gone. He replied, “I went to Sukhavati Pure Land (bDe-ba-can), but finding no companions, I quickly came back.” He then went to the Iron Bridge (lCags-zam) in Lower Tibet (sMad), a two days’ walk west of Lhasa. When asked where he had been, he said, “I went to the joyless realms, but as I had made no reservation, I could not find a place to stay.”

Having appreciated the value of our precious human lives with its respites and rich opportunities and having also realized that they will be lost when we die, we now consider the quality of life in the two types of rebirth we can take. At this point in the training of our minds, however, we consider only the suffering found in the worse rebirth states. This is because the initial scope of our spiritual development is to work ourselves up to the state of mind in which we wish for one of the better rebirths. When we are aware of the problems and suffering we would have with a rebirth in one of the worse states, our dread (’jigs-pa, Skt. bhī, fear) of experiencing them will motivate us to take preventive measures to avoid such a future and assure something more pleasant.

Once we have become stable in this direction, we can consider the suffering we would still have to face in the better rebirth states. This will be when we have progressed to trying to develop an intermediate scope of spiritual motivation.

Considering the Suffering of Being a Trapped Being in a Joyless Realm

Gungthang Rinpoche (Gung-thang dKon-mchog bstan-pa’i sgron-me) has said:

During the short nap of your nonstatic lifetime, you may be disturbed by dreams of meaningless pleasure and pain. If, when suddenly you awoke, you were to find yourself in a pit of thorns in a hellish state, what could you do then?

Pabongka (Pha-bong-kha Byams-pa bstan-’dzin ’phrin-las rgya-mtsho) has given a similar analogy that death is like sleep, the bardo is like a dream, and rebirth is like waking up. The point of both sets of analogies is that the worse rebirth states are not independent phenomena (rang-dbang) existing off somewhere all on their own, but rather are the outcome of karmic forces built up from previously committed destructive actions. The problems and sufferings of these states follow from such actions according to the laws of behavioral cause and effect.

If we act, speak or think in a very cruel, negative and destructive manner, we ourselves will be tortured with hellish suffering as a result of creating this negative energy. The same mechanism is in operation to explain how we experience the suffering of nightmares as a result of previous disturbed states of mind, and how we experience residual uneasiness and fright upon awakening from them. The same is true with why we develop high blood pressure, an ulcer and are frequently miserable if we are hot-tempered and always yelling at others. The horrors experienced in the hellish states of the joyless realms are not punishments inflicted from without, but rather are unfortunate consequences originating from within. Only we ourselves can be blamed for our suffering. We bring it all upon ourselves by our negative attitudes and actions committed because of unawareness.

Shantideva has said in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior (sPyod-’jug, Skt. Bodhicaryāvatāra), V.6–8:

The Speaker of the Perfect himself has shown that, in this way, all fears, as well as immeasurable sufferings, come from the mind.

Who intentionally created all the weapons for the beings in the joyless realms? Who created the burning iron ground? Where did all the siren-maids come from?

The Sage has said that all such things as that are (what come from) a mind having negative karmic force. Therefore, in the threefold world, there’s nothing to fear except the mind.

Most of us rebel against having to listen to descriptions of hellish states of existence. We do not take them seriously and consider joyless realms nothing more than a morbid fantasy to frighten primitive people. Not realizing how a tortured state of body and mind is what follows from cruel, vicious actions and thought, and not recognizing in ourselves tendencies leading in this direction, we think that building up a habit to be aware of and take seriously the problems and suffering of life in joyless realms is totally irrelevant.

When we refuse like this to think about hellish suffering, we are being very naive and unfair. We feel that if a Dharma practice pleases us and is pleasant to do, it is a good spiritual practice. However, if it involves anything unpleasant and we do not like it, then it is a horrible practice and we reject it. If we think, “I disliked hearing about the hells in other religions, and I am not about to tolerate it here,” this is a very self-centered and immature attitude. The disadvantages of such naive avoidance are similar to those of the revulsion and reticence most of us have toward hearing about, let alone having close physical contact with such unfortunate beings as gory accident and battle victims, lepers, deformed beggars, lunatics and senile invalids. A closed-hearted and anxiously hostile response toward an intensely suffering being indicates not only a defensive, self-cherishing attitude (rang bces-par ’dzin-pa), but also a gross lack of sympathy and feeling for others. This lack of sympathy not only prevents us from helping others, but also deprives us of the motivation to avoid the causes for the same problems and suffering in our own behavior.

The Buddha taught about the trapped beings’ torturous suffering not out of a morbid and sadistic desire to cause others fear and depression, but out of his great compassion. What gain would there be for the Buddha to scare us? The joyless realms actually do exist; the Buddha had no reason to lie. He only wishes to help save others from going there.

If the explanations of the joyless realms are just to cause fear, then when a mother tells her child not to put his hand in the fire or swim in a deep river, is this just to frighten the child or is it out of loving-kindness so that her baby will not get burned or drown? It is like when a doctor shows us a picture of someone with a venereal disease, this is not simply to scare us. He is being very kind by trying to motivate us to take measures for preventing this agonizing problem. If someone had the tendency to steal, if we really cared for him, we would explain very frankly the consequences of such a misdemeanor. We would describe vividly the discomforts, dangers and problems of being in jail, being beaten, mistreated and so forth. Likewise, the Buddha has described in complete detail the sufferings of the joyless realms to convince embodied, limited beings to refrain from all impulsive destructive actions leading to such suffering. It is of no help if we pretend these hellish situations do not exist.

It is very important to know about all the uncontrollably recurring suffering that wandering beings bring upon themselves and specifically about the problems and suffering of the worse rebirth states.

Shantideva has said in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior (VI.21):

Furthermore, there are advantages to suffering: with agony, arrogance disappears; compassion grows for those in recurring samsara; negative conduct is shunned; and joy is taken in being constructive.

When we are aware of all the problems that exist, we will renounce them all, not just some. Realizing the troubles that we face in life destroys our pride and makes us humble. If we are aware of the suffering plaguing other people and life forms, we realize that we are not the only one existing in this universe and not the only one who has troubles in life. We live among numberless wandering beings in all states of existence, each having to deal with difficult situations. Just as we ourselves do not like to have any suffering, we begin to realize that everyone else feels the same way, and we develop compassion. Seeing that we are not alone in having problems gives us the courage and incentive to deal with them and find a solution, rather than wallow in self-pity. We will restrain ourselves from the destructive actions that cause all our troubles, and we will gain the strength to engage and rejoice in positive, constructive behavior.

Once, a grief-stricken woman came to the Buddha, carrying the body of her dead child. Uncontrollably crying, she pleaded with the Buddha to bring her baby back to life. The Buddha said, “First, you must bring me a handful of rice from a home that has never been visited by death.” The mother went all over the village from house to house, and each family she saw told her about all their loved ones who had passed away. The woman slowly began to see her situation in a different light. She was not the only one in the world who had ever lost a child. Realizing that in fact some other people’s problems were worse than her own, she was able to get over the hysteria that had caused her such grief and bury her child with more sympathy for others.

Thus, when thinking about the following descriptions of the worse rebirth states, we try to develop not only renunciation, the sincere determination to avoid these problems ourselves, but also sympathy and compassion for those who, out of naivety, have brought these sufferings upon themselves. The way to do this is to imagine ourselves experiencing the suffering of such a rebirth. If we toured a medieval castle and saw a torture chamber in active use, we might feel some revulsion at what we saw. However, more than likely we would regard it only as a gruesome drama or horror show and not take it seriously. If, however, all of a sudden we were dragged into the scene and were chained and flogged, we would change our attitude drastically. All we would think of is how to escape, and we would have much more feeling for our fellow inmates. This is how we approach thinking about the hells and taking for real both them and the beings trapped there.

Considering the Suffering of Life as a Limited Being in the Great Hot Joyless Realms

There are eight types of hot joyless realms (tsha-ba’i dmyal-ba chen-po):

Reviving realms (yang-sros, Skt. saṃjīva)
Black thread realms (thig-nag, Skt. kālasūtra)
Joyless realms of mass destruction (bsdus-’joms, Skt. saṃghāta)
Howling realms (ngu-’bod, Skt. raurava)
Loud howling realms (ngu-’bod chen-po, Skt. mahā-raurava)
Heating realms (tsha-ba, Skt. tapana)
Intense heating realms (rab-tu tsha-ba, Skt. pratāpana)
Joyless realms of unrelenting pain (mnar-med, Skt. avīci, Avici Hells).

A complete set of eight is found stacked one upon the other in each world-system, directly beneath the Vajra Seat of its Rose-Apple Island (’dzam-bu gling, Skt. Jambudvīpa, Southern Continent). This is why Bodh Gaya in India is such a hot place.

The ground of the hot joyless realms is made of red-hot iron and is enveloped in flames. The fires here are seven times hotter than wood fires on the earth. Once Maudgalyayana (Mo’u dgal-gyi bu), the eminent disciple of the Buddha, brought an ember from one of the hot joyless realms back to the surface of the earth. He placed it on the shore of the ocean, and no one could bear the heat it emitted.

As a trapped being in a joyless realm, we are invisible to most human beings. We do not have any specific size. In general, we have a huge body with skin as sensitive and delicate as that of a newborn infant. The worse the negative karmic force we have built up, the larger and more sensitive our bodies are and consequently the greater is our suffering and pain.

[1] In a reviving realm, we are so filled with hatred that at the mere sight of any other being also trapped here we attack viciously. We hack each other to pieces with various types of weapons and feel extreme pain not only in our trunk but also in each of our severed limbs and even in the blood we have shed. We massacre and kill each other like this 500 times each joyless-realm day, but never really die, just faint in a swoon. Each time a voice says, “Revive once more.” At this, a cool breeze blows and revives us. All our severed parts reassemble, and the next round of slaughter begins.

We continue compulsively and uncontrollably like this until our negative karmic force no longer gives rise to the overwhelmingly compelling karmic impulses to engage in such carnage.

As Nagarjuna has said in A Letter to a Friend (bShes-spring, Skt. Suhṛllekha), 87:

Even if you experience extremely unbearable sufferings like that for hundreds of millions of years, so long as your destructive force has not been depleted, you’ll not be parted from (that) life for that long.

This is the only hot joyless realm in which there are no guards. All the others have them in grotesque and frightening animal form, the projections and outcome of our negative karmic forces. It is like when we are going mad, we see everyone around us as being against us, and we are tortured by hellish visions of everyone wanting to murder us. Our food seems to be poisoned, and even friendly faces look terrifying and threatening.

Shantideva has also said in Engaging in Bodhisattva Behavior (VI.46):

It’s like, for example, the guards of the joyless realms and the forest of razor-sharp leaves: this (suffering too) is produced by my impulsive karmic behavior; so toward what should I be enraged?

According to the Vaibhashika tenet system, the guards of the joyless realms are actually living, limited beings who have exhausted their negative karmic force to be trapped beings themselves and are then compelled to torture the others in these joyless realms. In Sautrantika, it is explained that they are not wandering beings, but merely a disturbance of the four elemental sources (khams-bzhi, Skt. catur-dhātu). In all the Mahayana systems, however, the joyless-realm guards are asserted to be projections from the negative karmic force of the limited being who is tortured by them.

A rebirth in this type of joyless realm is the result of being either a soldier who ruthlessly kills others in battle, a murderer, mugger or someone who constantly picks fights, holds grudges with intense hatred and plots revenge. If we have acted in any of these destructive ways, we are reborn here with the types of weapons used to accumulate our negative karmic force.

[2] When we are reborn in a black thread realm, its guards lay us flat on the burning ground and draw lines on our back with black thread and acid or brand them on with a red-hot iron chain. Hacking along these lines, they chop our bodies into tiny pieces and then put them back together 500 times each joyless-realm day. Such a rebirth results from whipping, lashing and inflicting sadistic punishment upon animals or humans, and also from being very divisive, pretentious and concealing our shortcomings.

[3] In a joyless realm of mass destruction, we are placed with many other trapped beings between two mountains in the shape of rams’ or other animals’ heads, crushed between them and then brought back to life 500 times each joyless-realm day. Or we may all be crushed by huge masses falling from the sky. We are reborn here if we maliciously hunt, fish, slaughter livestock or kill insects. We suffer a fate similar to what we ourselves have perpetrated on other living beings when we swat flies, smack mosquitoes between our hands or purposely step on any bug.

[4] In a howling realm, we are chased by fearsome torturers until we see a square metal house with an open door. With great paranoia, we run inside and, because of our enormous store of negative karmic force, the door closes behind us, and the house begins to glow red-hot. Trapped inside and seeing there is no way out, we continually howl and cry with great mental torment, thus accounting for the name of this joyless realm. Occasionally, the door opens briefly, but when we try to escape, fierce guards, the projections of our murky karmic impulses, drive us back.

We cause ourselves such a rebirth if we habitually commit negative actions of body, speech and mind, especially if in an extremely destructive or possessive frame of mind. We are likewise reborn here if we are inveterate drunkards or drug addicts. As the Buddha has said in one of his sutras:

Drunkards are reborn in howling (realms) and those who serve them drink are reborn all around them.

[5] A rebirth in a loud howling realm is similar to one in the previous joyless realm, except that here we are trapped inside an even hotter inner room within the red-hot glowing metal house. It results from being an even more reckless drunkard or destructive terrorist.

[6] If we are reborn in a heating realm, the guards skewer us from our anus to the top of our head with a red-hot metal trident, which burns out our insides until red smoke comes out of our mouth. They then remove the burning trident, revive us and skewer us once more, 500 times each joyless-realm day. Or they boil us alive in a huge cauldron of molten copper. Such is the result if we burn or bury people alive sadistically for fun or as a punishment, or if we cook live animals such as lobsters in the West or chickens, frogs and fish in the Orient.

[7] In an intense heating realm, we are tortured the same as in the previous joyless realm, except the red glowing trident is twice as hot. This is caused by committing the same destructive actions as bring about the sufferings of a heating realm, but if we do so with even worse intentions or inflict more pain.

[8] In a joyless realm of unrelenting pain, we are born with an enormous body that glows red-hot from eleven fires, namely ten external ones in the ten directions around, above and below our bodies and one internal fire. Like a piece of metal in the fire of a blacksmith, we cannot distinguish our bodies from the flames. This joyless realm has the most physical suffering of any realm in samsara and therefore is considered the worst rebirth state with the most awful suffering. It results from committing the most extreme destructive actions, namely the heinous crimes, and among them, especially from causing a schism in the Sangha (dge ’dun-gyi dbyen-byed-pa, Skt. saṅgha-bheda).

The five heinous crimes (mtshams-med lnga, Skt. pañcānantarya-karma) are explained in Vasubandhu’s Treasure House of Special Topics of Knowledge (Chos mngon-pa’i mdzod, Skt. Abhidharmakośa), IV.96–107, and the First Dalai Lama’s Clarifying the Path (mDzod-tik thar-lam gsal-byed), 257–266. They are:

Murdering our mother
Murdering our father
Murdering an arhat
Causing a schism in the Sangha
With the harmful intention of murder, drawing blood from the enlightening body of a Buddha.

The heinous crime of causing a schism in the Sangha must form two rival factions with at least four monks or nuns on each side. It is the most serious heinous crime, and the one who perpetrates it falls in his or her immediate next rebirth to the lowest of the hot joyless realms, that of unrelenting pain. Other heinous crimes do not necessarily cause a fall to this lowest realm.

There are five parallel heinous crimes (nye-ba’i mtshams-med lnga) corresponding to the major five and also with the consequence of a rebirth in a joyless realm that cannot be deferred:

Committing incest with our mother when she happens to be an arhat
Murdering a bodhisattva
Murdering an arya training in the Hinayana pathway minds
Stealing the provisions or funds of the monastic Sangha
With hatred, destroying a monastery or a stupa.

We can also be reborn in a joyless realm of unrelenting pain if we fight viciously with our parents or our spiritual mentor, or if as a monk we break any of our four cardinal vows not to kill any human, steal or lie about our spiritual attainments and to maintain celibacy (tshangs-spyod, Skt. brahmacarya).

If we are reborn in any of these hot joyless realms, our life will be unbearably long. The lifespan (tshe, Skt. āyu) in the first six of these realms is calculated in terms of that of the divine beings on the plane of sensory desires.

Vasubandhu has explained in A Treasure House of Special Topics of Knowledge (III.79–80a):

Fifty years of human life are equivalent to one day (in the life) of the lowest divine beings on the plane of sensory desires. Their lifespan is 500 years (of these days), while (that of each succeeding class of divine beings) above is (made up of) progressively twice (the number of human years equivalent to their days) and is progressively twice (the number of such years long).

A day in the life of the trapped beings in the first of the six hot joyless realms is equivalent to the lifespan of the lowest divine beings on the plane of sensory desires, and these trapped beings live for 500 years of such days. The lifespan of the beings in each of the next five lower joyless realms is made up of days progressively equivalent to the lifespan of the next five higher levels of divine beings and is progressively twice the number of such years long. The lifespan of those in the seventh and eighth hot joyless realm is respectively a half and a full intermediate eon of their own years, the length of which are calculated in a similar fashion.

Lifespans in different realms are described in Vasubandhu’s Treasure House of Special Topics of Knowledge (81d–83a) and in the First Dalai Lama’s Clarifying the Path, 191–193. If one calculates years of 30 days to the month and 12 months to the year, then the lowest divine beings live for 500 years of 50 year-long days, or 9 million human years. The second level of divine beings live for 1,000 years of 100 year-long days, or 36 million years. The lifespan of the divine beings on the plane of sensory desires increases in this way by a factor of four. The trapped beings in the first hot joyless realm live for 500 years of 9 million year-long days, or 1.62 trillion human years. Those in the second hot realm live for 1,000 years of 36 million year-long days, or 12.96 trillion human years. In this way, the lifespan of those in the first six hot joyless realms increases progressively by a factor of eight.

The lifespans of those in the seventh and eighth hot realms are calculated in units of a half and a full intermediate eon, as is the case with the first two Brahma realms of divine beings on the plane of ethereal forms. With these divine beings, an intermediate eon is to be taken as actually forty intermediate eons, in other words, half a great eon. Thus, the divine beings in the first Brahma realm live for 20 intermediate eons of years made up of days which are each 20 intermediate eons long. An intermediate eon is the length of time required for the human lifespan to go from ten to 80,000 and back down to ten by changing at a rate of one year every century. This is approximately 16 million years, while a great eon is 80 times this length, or 1.28 billion years. The lifespan of the divine beings in the first Brahma realm, then, is 320 million years of 320 million year-long days, or approximately 36.86 quintillion years.

Those in the seventh hot joyless realm live for 20 intermediate eons of years, in other words, 320 million years in which each day is the length of the lifespan of the divine beings in the first Brahma realm. This works out to approximately 4.25 decillion years. The lifespan in the lowest hot realm is calculated by the same formula, but with units of 40 intermediate eons. Thus, they live a half great eon of years in which each day is the length of a half great eon of years made up of days which are a half great eon long. This is 34 decillion years, the longest lifespan of any limited being.

The Buddha built up positive karmic force for three zillion eons (bskal-pa grangs-med gsum, Skt. tri-asaṃkhya-kalpa, three countless eons). One zillion (grangs-med, Skt. asaṃkhya), the highest finite but countless number, is ten raised to the sixtieth power, whereas one decillion is only ten raised to the thirtieth power.

We should not feel that the sufferings of these joyless realms are irrelevant to us. Rather, we should feel as if we were part of a group of five bandits, three of whom had already been caught, were publicly flogged and thrown in a dungeon. If we were one of the two who were still being sought by the authorities, could we rest at ease?

When we examine our behavior, we discover that we have committed innumerable causes for bringing about hellish suffering for ourselves. As the Kadampa geshes used to say:

Having already committed the causes for being reborn as a trapped being, you are like someone with one foot in the human world and one foot already perched on the edge of a cauldron of molten joyless-realm copper.

Therefore, while we can, we should apply the four opponent forces immediately and with sincere effort in order to avoid experiencing the disastrous consequences of our destructive actions.

Padampa Sanggye has said:

While you are not yet in the joyless realms, do not trip over the bump of destructive actions and plummet over the cliff into an inferno. Once you have fallen, there is no guarantee when you will ever get out.

Considering the Suffering of Being in the Neighboring Joyless Realms

On each of the four sides of each of the eight hot joyless realms in every world-system, there are four neighboring joyless realms (nye-’khor-ba’i dmyal-ba bzhi). These are:

A pit of hot coals (me ma-mur-gyi ’obs, Skt. kukūla)
A swamp of decomposing quicksand (ro-myags ’dam, Skt. kuṇapa)
Three realms of weapons (mtshon-cha’i skor-gsum)
An acid river (gyur-byed-kyi chu-klong rab-med, Skt. vaitaraṇī).

We must pass through a full set of four as part of our rebirth in the hot joyless realm to which they are attached. Whether we must experience them before or afterwards is determined by the compelling karmic impulses and macabre situations that arise from our negative karmic force.

[1] First, we come to a pit of hot coals. As we walk, our feet sink up to the knees in red-hot coals and ashes and then heal again as we lift them out to take the next smoldering step.

After this ordeal, we reach [2] a swamp of decomposing quicksand into which we sink up to our neck in filth and have worms bore through our bodies.

[3] Entering three realms of weapons, we come first to a plain of razors (spu-gris gtams-pa’i thang, Skt. kṣura- pūrṇa-sthala). As we cross, we cut our feet to shreds each time we put them down, and they heal again as we pick them up. Once we have passed through this fearsome plain, we come to a forest of double-edged sword leaves (ral-gri lo-ma’i nags-tshal, Skt. asipatra-vana). Seeing in the distance cool, refreshing trees, we rush toward them with great hope. When we reach the forest, however, the leaves of the trees turn out to be double-edged swords which then fall upon us when blown by the cruel wind of our negative karmic forces.

Next, we come to a mountain shaped like the trunk of a silk-cotton tree (shal-ma-li-yi sdong-po, shalmali grove). From the top of it, we hear our loved ones beckoning us. We begin to climb this trunk-shaped mountain and halfway up iron thorn-like projections turn down upon us. When we reach the top, our loved ones turn out to be birds with iron beaks, who peck out our eyes and feed on our flesh. Then, after being restored, we hear our loved ones at the foot of the mountain. Climbing down, we discover the knife-like crags have turned their sharp edges up toward us. These cut us once more, until we reach the bottom only to find that our loved ones have now become vicious dogs who attack and eat us. Revived once more and hearing our loved ones again on top of this diabolical mountain, we climb back up, and the cycle is repeated.

[4] Finally, having passed through three realms of weapons, frightful joyless-realm guards chase us into an acid river. When only our bones are left undissolved, they lay them on the shore and restore our flesh. Asking us what we want, the guards force hot coals down our throat if we say we are hungry, or acid if we say we are thirsty. They then chase us back into the river of acid to begin another round.

Considering the Suffering of Being in the Cold Joyless Realms

There are eight cold joyless realms (grang-dmyal, cold hells), located at the same distance beneath a Rose-Apple Island as are its hot joyless realms, but to the north of them. This is why Tibet is so cold.

When it is said that there are 2,000 ancient miles (dpag-tshad, Skt. yojana) between each of the cold joyless realms, this refers to the distance between the peak of the mountains in one such realm and the ground of the next higher one. In fact, however, the distance from ground level to ground level is 4,000 ancient miles, the same as for the hot joyless realms.

In general, the cold joyless realms are regions of total darkness, with bleak mountains, snow and ice, bitter cold winds and terrible diseases. Each is progressively more frigid. As a being trapped here, we are naked and have no resources or ability to build a fire, take shelter or in any way alleviate our misery.

[1] If we are reborn in a blistering realm (chu-bur-can, Skt. arbuda), we wander around in the freezing cold with goose-pimples as large as blisters. As in all the other cold joyless realms, our flesh is fed upon by insects and worms, the projections of our own murky karmic impulses.

[2] In a joyless realm of oozing blisters (chu-bur rdol-ba, Skt. nirarbuda), our goose-pimple blisters swell until they burst open and ooze with pus and blood. As in the hot joyless realms, we continue to maintain feeling in the blood we have shed, here lying frozen on the ground. We can only move about slightly and with great difficulty.

[3] In a joyless realm of shivering “achu” (a-chu zer-ba, Skt. huhuva), we resemble a cold rock high on a mountain. Unable to move, we sit shivering with our lips chattering “achu achu,” an interjection equivalent to “brrrr.”

[4] In a realm of moaning “kyihu” (kyi-hud zer-ba, Skt. hahava), it is so cold that we cannot even move our lips. We can only moan “kyihu kyihu.”

[5] In a lockjaw realm (so-tham-pa, Skt. aṭaṭa), the cold reaches such intensity, our jaws freeze together so that we cannot make any noise at all.

This is the order found in Pabongka’s Liberation in the Palm of Your Hand (rNam-grol lag-bcangs). In Tsongkhapa’s Grand Presentation (Lam-rim chen-mo) and the First Dalai Lama’s Clarifying the Path, lockjaw realm precedes the joyless realm of shivering “achu.”

[6] In a joyless realm of cracking like a waterlily (utpala-ltar gas-pa, Skt. utpala), our entire bodies are frozen solid. We turn the color of a blue water-lily, and our bodies crack open into five or six sections like the petals of this flower.

[7] In a realm of cracking like a lotus (padma-ltar gas-pa, Skt. padma), our frozen body turns red like a lotus and cracks into ten or more sections.

[8] In a realm of enormous cracking like a great lotus (padma-ltar gas-pa chen-po, Skt. mahā-padma), our bodies are a bright crimson color and cracked open into hundreds of sections like a great lotus flower. This is the worst of all the cold joyless realms.

The main cause for rebirth in any of these cold realms is a frozen-like attitude of naively and stubbornly holding a distorted antagonistic outlook. Removing the clothes of a Buddha statue or of a person so that he or she freezes and throwing insects, animals or people out into the cold and rain to die are additional causes for us to be reborn here.

Aryashura has said in A Rosary of Previous Life Accounts (sKyes-rabs ’phreng-ba, Skt. Jātakamālā), XXIX.22:

In their future rebirths, those with an anarchist or nihilist outlook (med-par lta-ba, Skt. nāstika) will live in a place that gives rise to darkness, blackness, wind and cold. As they will experience sicknesses as well that will cause their very bones to shatter, what person who wishes his own welfare would plunge himself there?

Vasubandhu has given the lifespan of a birth in the cold joyless realms in A Treasure House of Special Topics of Knowledge (III.84):

If from an (eighty Magadha peck) storage bin of sesame seeds, you were to remove one seed every hundred years, (the length of time it would take) to empty it would equal the lifespan in a blistering realm. The lifespans of the other (cold joyless realms) increase twenty-fold.

In general, a Tibetan peck (khal) is equal to 20 pints, and a Tibetan pint is equal to six handfuls (phul). Although these units of dry measurement might not be the same as these used in the ancient Indian kingdom of Magadha (Yul ma-ga-dha), nevertheless according to Pabongka’s Liberation in the Palm of Your Hand, 193.a1, we can approximate this count by calculating 15,000 sesame seeds to the handful. This estimate works out to 14.4 billion years as the lifespan in the first cold joyless realm.

Considering the Suffering of Being in the Occasional Joyless Realms

Occasional joyless realms (nyi tshe-ba’i dmyal-ba, Skt. prādeśika-naraka) are situations found either in the hot or cold realms or in any of the human worlds, especially on the shore of oceans. They can be for either individuals or groups of wandering beings. The problems and suffering in these hellish situations are intermittent, not constant. For instance, once a group of 500 trapped beings lived together as monks in a monastery at the side of the sea. At noon, all their begging bowls would turn into knives, and these trapped beings would fight with one another, but then after noon everything would return to normal. The cause for this was that during the time of the Third Buddha, Kashyapa (Sangs-rgyas ’Od-srung), they had all been human monks together and had quarreled over their noonday meal.

Another example is of a trapped being with two wives who were normal during the day but at night would transform into deadly vipers and eat him. In a former life, this occasionally joyless being had vowed before Katyayana (Ka-tya-ya-na), one of the ten main disciples of the Buddha, to refrain from sexual activity only during the day, while at night he had shamelessly indulged himself at will. A last example is of a trapped being with four wives who were normal during the night, but during the day would change into dogs and devour him. In a former life, he was a butcher who had slaughtered many animals during the day, but had vowed before Katyayana not to do so at night.

We must consider our behavior in light of the causes for being reborn in these various joyless realms and how our worst problems now are trivial compared to the smallest sufferings we would experience there. If this makes no effect on us, and we are not moved to take some preventive measures by modifying our conduct, then as Nagarjuna has said in A Letter to a Friend (83d):

(Our minds) must have a nature (as hard) as a diamond!