Avijjā: Ignorance
Avijjā is the dark of not-knowing that sits under every wrong turn. Closing your own eyes and then calling the room dark is its exact shape; the lamp still burns, but the lid is down and nothing gets in. The eyes are shut from the inside, so no extra lamp helps; the fix is the small act of lifting the lid.
Nīvaraṇa: The Hindrances
Nīvaraṇa are the five coverings that thicken and weigh down the mind. A heart "grown callous" and ears "dull of hearing" are a mind gone heavy, like a pond stirred to mud where you can no longer see your own face. Read that "dull" as a clear surface gone cloudy; let the mud settle, and the same water shows everything again.
Saṃvega: Urgency
Saṃvega is the jolt that wakes a numb heart and starts it moving. A heart grown thick and comfortable is the one that will not "turn again," because nothing has stung it awake; comfort itself is the callus. Something has to land like cold water on a sleeping face before the eyes even want to open.
Yoniso manasikāra: Wise attention
Yoniso manasikāra is attention that follows a thing down to its root. Between "hear with their ears" and "understand with their heart" sits this single move; sound lands on every ear, but only attention carries it inward to meaning. It is the difference between hearing a knock and hearing who is at the door.
Paññā: Wisdom
Paññā is the clear seeing that at last understands how things stand. To "perceive with their eyes" and "understand with their heart" is that sight arriving, the same eyes now open that were pressed shut at the start. Understanding here is closer to seeing a room in daylight than to being handed one more fact.
Nibbāna: The healing
Nibbāna is the cooling that the old texts call the highest health. "I would heal them" holds the whole hope here; the word itself means a fever going out, a flame let burn down. Turn the shut eye back toward the light, and the heat that hardened the heart cools and goes quiet.