The Axe in the Mouth

One morning at the Jetavana Monastery, the atmosphere was peaceful as usual. Yet today, a sense of unease stirred among the monks. Whispers spread from corner to corner, repeatedly mentioning the name Kokālika. He was a young monk with a peculiar habit: he constantly spoke ill of Sariputta and Moggallana, the two chief disciples of the Sangha.

No one knew exactly where this behavior began. It seemed Kokālika was obsessed, going everywhere claiming that these two elders were unworthy of leading the order. Initially, people tried to advise him gently, but the more they spoke, the harsher his words became. When someone confronted him directly, he grew angry and argued back. Eventually, unable to bear it any longer, the monks brought the matter before the Buddha.

The Buddha summoned Kokālika. He looked at the young monk with eyes full of compassion yet sternness. He said, “Kokālika, do not think this way. Sariputta and Moggallana are virtuous, moral, and wise. They deserve our respect.”

Kokālika bowed his head, but his heart remained unconvinced. He looked up, his voice stubborn. “World-Honored One, no matter what you say, I still see them as cruel and greedy.”

The Buddha patiently offered advice for the second time. “Kokālika, direct your mind toward goodness. Praise Sariputta and Moggallana. They are noble sages of wisdom.”

But Kokālika shook his head, his lips pressed tight. “World-Honored One, I still see their faults.”

For the third time, the Buddha’s voice lowered. “Kokālika, do not let evil thoughts cloud your wisdom. Please practice repentance.”

Yet Kokālika remained defiant. He stood up, brushed off his robes, and walked away, refusing to listen to any further teachings from the Buddha.

At that moment, his negative karma had fully ripened. Offending an Arahant is an extremely heavy transgression. In a short time, small lumps appeared all over Kokālika’s body, growing larger like oranges. They festered and burst open, oozing blood and pus with a foul odor. He lay there groaning in pain, and no one dared approach him. Even those who had once been close shunned him in disgust. Starving and thirsty, he received no food because the smell was too overpowering. This scene resembled hell right here in the human realm.

In his dying moments, a Brahma deity appeared. This being had been Kokālika’s former teacher and had attained the second stage of enlightenment while residing in the heavenly realms. Moved by compassion, he wished to save his old student. He descended gently and advised, “Kokālika, please feel remorse. Repent for the evil thoughts and harmful speech you directed toward the venerable Sariputta and Moggallana.”

Kokālika opened his eyes and looked at the deity. Instead of listening, he asked sarcastically, “Who are you?”

“I am Brahma, your former teacher,” the deity replied.

“I heard you have attained the state of Non-Returner, never coming back to this realm. Why are you here?”

Rather than feeling regret, Kokālika sought to mock and challenge the deity. The Brahma looked at him, shook his head, and realized there was no way to save him anymore. He vanished, leaving Kokālika to sink into the weight of his own karmic obstacles.

Kokālika died in agony and fell into hell. Since then, through many lifetimes, he has remained there, wailing in suffering. The monks, horrified by this event, went to ask the Buddha about it. The Buddha then shared a parable about a turtle and two geese.

Long ago, there was a turtle living in a swamp who had never seen mountains or vast skies. One day, two wild geese flew overhead and stopped to rest. The turtle looked up admiringly and asked, “Sisters, I only see this dark swamp. How can I see the high sky and wide world like you?”

Moved by pity, the geese devised a plan. “We will hold the ends of a stick, and you must bite firmly onto the middle. When we fly up, you will see the high sky and distant mountains.”

The turtle rejoiced and followed their instructions. All three took flight. Mid-air, the turtle saw magnificent scenery, and her heart overflowed with joy. Suddenly, she heard the geese chatting about interesting things above. Jealousy arose, and she wanted to argue. As soon as she opened her mouth to speak, she slipped from the stick, fell to the ground, broke her shell, and died instantly.

The Buddha concluded, “The human mouth can be dangerously harmful. Kokālika was born with an axe in his mouth, loving to slander and criticize others. That karma led him to the ultimate depths of suffering.”

The story of Kokālika is a profound lesson. Each of us should look inward and examine whether we have a habit of speaking ill or criticizing others. Do not let your mouth become a knife that destroys your own blessings from merit.

The Meaning of the Story

Verbal karma is one of the heaviest forms of action. Slandering others, especially noble beings, can burn away merit accumulated over many lifetimes. Always keep your speech pure. Speak kindly, praise good people, and avoid the habit of criticism and fault-finding. For the mouth can lift us to heavenly realms, or push us down into hell.

Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thich Chan Quang