The Hammer in the Mouth

The monk Kokālika had a bad habit of speaking ill of others, to the point of slandering the two great Arahants, Venerable Sāriputta and Venerable Moggallāna. Despite the Buddha's three attempts to restrain him, he remained stubborn and ultimately reaped a terrifying karmic consequence.

One afternoon at the Jeta Grove monastery, golden sunlight stretched across the gravel paths as birds chirped in the sal trees. The monks were gathered under a large tree when one stood up, his face full of worry:

"Brothers, have you heard the news? The monk Kokālika has been speaking ill of Venerable Sāriputta and Venerable Moggallāna again!"

The others looked at each other and shook their heads in dismay. Kokālika, a monk in the community, had long been infamous for his habit of criticizing and speaking ill of others. Wherever he went, whoever he met, he would find ways to dig up faults. But this time, he had gone too far by daring to slander the Buddha's two chief disciples, the supreme leaders of the Sangha.

The story had begun days earlier. Kokālika harbored ill will towards Sāriputta and Moggallāna, perhaps because they had advised him and pointed out his faults, which he refused to accept, instead nurturing resentment. He went everywhere, telling anyone he met:

"Are those two the supreme leaders of the Sangha? I see they have no virtue at all. They are greedy and malicious!"

Those words spread like wind. The other monks, hearing this, initially tried to persuade him to stop, but Kokālika became more fervent the more he spoke. Finally, they had to inform the Buddha.

The Buddha summoned Kokālika. He looked at him with eyes of compassion, his voice warm and deep:

"Kokālika, do not think like that. Sāriputta and Moggallāna are virtuous, moral, and wise. You should direct your mind towards goodness and praise them."

Kokālika bowed his head but remained unconvinced inside. He replied:

"Blessed One, even though You say so, I still see those two as malicious and greedy."

The Buddha patiently repeated his counsel a second time, then a third. But Kokālika stubbornly held to his opinion. Finally, he stood up and left, his face seething with anger.

By then, his negative karma had ripened. Offending an Arahant is an extremely grave sin. All the merit he had cultivated over many lifetimes was instantly burned away without a trace. Soon after, small tumors began to appear all over Kokālika's body. At first they were like mung beans, then grew to the size of oranges. They burst open, oozing blood and pus, and gave off an intensely foul stench. He lay bedridden, groaning in pain, with no one daring to approach because of the terrible smell. Starving, thirsty, and utterly alone, he died in extreme suffering and was reborn in hell.

As he was dying, a Brahma deity named Tudu, who had been Kokālika's teacher in the past, appeared. The deity had attained the second stage of enlightenment and was in a heavenly realm. Seeing his former disciple about to pass away, he felt compassion and descended to advise him:

"Kokālika, feel regret. Repent for the evil thoughts, evil intentions, and evil words you spoke against Venerable Sāriputta and Venerable Moggallāna."

But Kokālika, even on the brink of death, still refused to humble himself. He looked up at the Brahma deity and retorted:

"Who are you?"

"I am Tudu, the Brahma deity, who was once your teacher."

"I heard you have attained the 'Non-returner' stage and no longer return to this realm. Why are you down here?"

He was still stubborn, looking for ways to nitpick and carp. The Brahma deity shook his head, helpless, and vanished. He could not save this disciple who had sunk so deep into evil karma that there was not even a clean spot left to grab onto.

The story of Kokālika shocked the entire Sangha. The monks went to ask the Buddha about the profound cause. The Buddha taught that Kokālika was born carrying the karma of a habit of speaking ill of others, like a sharp hammer always in his mouth. Then He told a parable:

"Monks, there was a tortoise living in a swamp who had never seen the high mountains or the vast sky. One day, two wild geese flying by stopped to rest. The tortoise looked up and asked in admiration, 'Friends, how can I see the vast sky like you do?' The two geese, feeling sorry for it, said, 'Alright, we will hold a stick in our beaks; you clamp your mouth tightly onto the middle, and we will fly up. But remember, do not open your mouth!' The tortoise happily agreed. When they flew high, the cool wind blew, and the tortoise joyfully saw mountains, rivers, and seas. Suddenly, it heard the two geese talking about something, became angry, and wanted to argue back. The moment it opened its mouth, it fell to the ground with a thud, its shell shattered, and it died on the spot."

The Buddha looked at the monks and spoke slowly:

"A person's mouth can harm them more dangerously than that tortoise's did. One must learn to control one's speech, speak elegantly and gently, and not let the habit of criticism and slander burn away all one's merit."

That lesson retains its value even today. Every word spoken sows a seed, whether good or bad. Those who know how to speak words of loving-kindness and build up love will receive affection and esteem. Those who only sow hatred and criticism will inevitably bear the karma of loneliness and suffering.

**The Meaning of the Story**

The story of the monk Kokālika reminds us of the terrible destructive power of verbal karma. The habit of liking to speak ill of and criticize others not only harms them but also burns away one's own merit, leading to painful consequences. We should always speak words of love and construction, and stay far from words that cause division and hatred.

*Compiled from a dharma talk by Venerable Thích Chân Quang*