Kodha: Anger
Kodha names the flare of anger while it is still rising. Full to the brim, weary with holding it in: anger reports itself as pressure looking for a direction, and Jeremiah feels the whole weight of it in his own chest before he delivers a word of it to anyone else. Press the lid down on a boiling pot and nothing cools; the water only climbs the sides.
Bhāra: A load carried
Bhāra is a burden set on the shoulder. The weariness here comes from the holding rather than the pouring, and carrying a full sack far enough will give out the arms long before it lightens the load. Anger taxes the one carrying it more steadily than the ones it is aimed at, which is why setting a thing down and pouring it out on a street are two different acts.
Kammavipāka: Deeds coming to fruit
Kammavipāka is action arriving as result, on its own schedule. Nothing in that street changed on the morning the pouring was ordered; long-grown conditions simply came due, the way fruit hangs green on the branch for months and then drops in a single afternoon. Wrath reads as sudden only to people who were not counting the seasons.
Maraṇassati: Keeping death in view
Maraṇassati keeps death deliberately in mind. Children in the street, young men gathered together, husband beside wife, the aged full of days: the roll runs through every age and skips none, and the sequence we quietly count on, oldest first, is one we invented. A house can lose its youngest before its eldest, and every village knows a family that did.
Saṃvega: The shock of seeing clearly
Saṃvega is the jolt that comes when danger is finally seen for what it is. Ruin spoken of in general terms moves nobody, while a child playing at the end of your own street moves everybody, and naming the street and the assembly is exactly what gives this warning its edge. The use of hearing it is to stop arranging furniture in a house that has already begun to smoke.