Anicca: Impermanence
The mark of everything put together. The field was already sliding away before the money changed hands, and the year that would have handed it back never arrives. Both men still drawing breath, both still standing, and the ground under the contract has shifted anyway.
Mamaṅkāra: Mine-making
The habit of stamping "mine" on whatever passes through the hands. Long after the field is signed away, the seller walks its edges in his mind and counts the seasons until it comes home to him. The deed went; the claim stayed, and the claim is the part that breaks when the vision lands.
Pamāda: Heedlessness
Living as though there were time in hand. Strengthening yourself in the iniquity of your life is bracing a house with rotten beams: the more weight you set on it, the faster it comes down. A wrong way of living offers footing that gives out at the moment a person leans hardest.
Kammassakatā: Ownership of one's deeds
Beings are heirs of what they do. The land, the silver, and the buyer's receipt all stay behind, while the iniquity of a life is the one holding that goes with its owner. None will return, and yet the deeds come home to the doer without fail.
Saṃvega: Urgent shock
The jolt that turns a person around. The vision falls on the whole multitude at once, no household spared, which is the alarm no market day sounds while the buying and selling go well. Felt early, that shock makes a person set the ledger down; felt with the end already here, it only reads the account back.