Pamāda: Heedlessness
Pamāda is the slow slackening of care. Backsliding of this kind holds no single moment of decision; the footing gives way little by little, the way a path erodes under repeated rain until the walker is already off it. The rebuke, when it comes, is delivered by the drift itself, which has been keeping an exact record the whole time.
Ottappa: Dread of doing wrong
Ottappa is the flinch that holds a hand back before it moves. "My fear is not in you" points at a missing guardrail rather than a missing terror: the same steadying weight that keeps someone from lying to a person they respect. Where that weight is gone, nothing stands between the wish and the deed, and the slide downhill meets no resistance.
Kamma: Action and its fruit
Kamma is a deed carrying its own result. No outside hand is needed to administer this correction, since the wickedness is the corrector, the way a debt quietly collects interest while nobody looks at the ledger. The forsaking and the punishment are one act seen at two moments, first as a choice and later as a consequence.
Ādīnava: The drawback tasted in the thing pursued
Ādīnava is the danger found inside what was wanted. Bitterness is the whole discovery: after all that walking down to Egypt to drink from the Nile, the water goes bitter in the mouth. The harm was in the cup from the first swallow, and only the taste finally made it plain, long after the broken cisterns were dug.
Yathābhūta ñāṇadassana: Knowing and seeing as it is
Here is direct sight of how things stand. "Know therefore and see" asks for something no one can be handed secondhand, the way a man believes he is lost only when he looks up and recognizes none of the trees around him. Bitterness on the tongue is where that looking begins, and being corrected by one's own conduct is the one lesson that cannot be argued with.