In the realm of the departed, there exists a dreadful mango grove, a place where birds also dwell. This grove is not like any earthly orchard; it shines constantly, blazing with a radiance reminiscent of an evening cloud. Deep within, it is known as Yama’s furnace, a terrifying expanse three yojanas wide, where the souls of the departed gather in overwhelming numbers—thousands upon thousands, even tens of millions. Within this furnace, the spirits find themselves devoid of the familiar net of veins, lacking eyes and ears. They come to rest in the belly of the cullī, and a swift current carries them onward through this fearsome domain. Each crossing is difficult and terrifying, with ordeals following in their proper order. There are ten thorny creepers that ensnare the souls, and thirteen cauldrons of boiling punishment await them. Everywhere, pitiless Rākṣasas roam, dreadful to behold, enforcing the punishments. In a dry well and amidst suffocating smoke, the soul hangs upside down. Again, in a pit of dung, it is cooked by a fire fueled with fat. Within this expanse of three yojanas, seven kinds of torments await those who emerge. The journey is arduous; after crossing with great difficulty, burning and unconscious, the soul finally reaches a beautiful pond, filled with cold water and shaded by cool groves. Here, the sinful are granted food and delicacies of every kind. Yet, the respite is brief. Next comes a mountain named Śūlavaha, towering a hundred yojanas high. Upon this mountain, rain-clouds pour down ceaselessly, but the water is always scalding. Nearby lies the grove of Śṛṅgāraka, where green meadows stretch out. But whoever is touched or bitten here becomes a worm, suffering further torment. After this, another punishment is prepared, diligently arranged for the soul’s continued suffering. Mothers, fathers, sons, wives, and loved ones are heard crying out again and again, “Alas! Save me, save me, O son!” Their wails echo through the realm. Punishment is inflicted with fists, whips, and even serpents placed upon the body. In this way, the soul’s own actions are repeated, again and again, in succession. There are four principal sins, and by conduct, a fifth is added. Through all these beginnings, the soul enters the path of another quality. Then, among immobile beings, a man is born, enduring for sixty thousand years and sixty hundred years. Afterwards, when his actions are exhausted, he becomes a being born from sweat once more, and passes through all the species of birds again. Upon attaining human birth, he may become a Śūdra, and if satisfied, remains so. From a Vaiśya, he attains the status of a Kṣatriya, and from there, he becomes a Brāhmaṇa. Yet, with a poorly trained mind, he becomes one who harms himself. A man is born, endowed with previous actions, and is utilized accordingly. He may be a drinker of liquor, one with dark teeth, foul odor, and a doer of evil. One who steals gold is equal to one who kills a Brāhmaṇa. For as long as those actions persist, in those houses of departure, the entire surface of the earth is covered, and even the rivers have departed. A great cry arises, filled with shouts of “ha-ha” and confusion. Amidst this tumult, blows are delivered with iron rods and weapons exceedingly fierce, marking the relentless cycle of consequence and suffering in the afterlife.