Pamāda: Heedlessness
Heedlessness is attention let off its leash. Forty days with the teacher gone up the mountain, and the camp slides from waiting into poured gold and dancing, with nobody at the edge of the crowd asking where this is going. Slackness of this kind never announces itself; it fills the space where care used to be, one small permission at a time, until the whole camp is dancing.
Sīlabbataparāmāsa: Grasping at rites
Grasping at rites means taking the ceremony for the thing itself. Ring, song, and a shape they poured with their own hands give the camp something to do with their bodies while the covenant is still being written above their heads. Ceremony can carry practice or stand in for it, and dancing around metal you can see is the easier of the two.
Phassa: Contact
Contact is the meeting of eye and object. He comes near, the calf and the dancing land on his sight, and from that instant the heat is already climbing in him, faster than any thought about what to do. One glance sets a whole chain running: seeing, then the sting of it, then the arm already moving, and no link in it waits for permission.
Kodha: Anger
Anger scorches the hand that carries it before it reaches anyone else. His grows hot on the road down and leaves through his arms at the stone, while the calf goes on standing there, untouched by the throw. Heat aims badly: what breaks is usually whatever stands nearest and matters most, and the tablets were both.
Anicca: Impermanence
Everything put together comes apart. Words cut into stone by the divine finger still shatter at the foot of the mountain, because stone is a made thing and made things break, whoever did the writing. The teaching outlasts the slab it was written on, which is why he can climb back up and carve the same words a second time.