The Hail That Fell at Dusk

 

Come sit with me, my little one,
And hear the tale of what was done.

While you were safe, curled warm in bed,
The sky grew strange and softly bled.

The hills of green, our Kanthalloor,
Turned silent as a closing door.

No birds in flight, no wind that played—
Just heavy clouds, all bruised and grayed.

Then came the roar, a hollow beat,
Like footsteps made by icy feet.

The sky let fall its frozen rain,
A hailstorm born of grief and strain.

Like shattered glass, the hailstones flew,
And danced where cardamom once grew.

Your father's plants, your garden rows,
Lay crushed beneath those crystal blows.

Large stones of ice, so hard and round,
Bounced wildly on the muddy ground.

They struck the roof, they split the leaves,
They tore the calm from quiet eaves.

I watched it all, and oh, my dear,
I felt both wonder... and a fear.

The beauty of that frozen light,
So sharp, so bright, so full of might.

You’d think it magical, perhaps,
The gems that fell in sudden gaps.

They sparkled in the morning sun,
A battlefield when war was done.

I gathered some, these icy spheres,
Cold in my hands like quiet tears.

I thought of you, your eyes, your smile—
And held the cold for just a while.

The garden cried, the roof did break,
The sheep all ran down to the lake.

Your swing is still, the earth is scarred,
The storm has left the ground so marred.

But still, the sun came through the gray,
A golden thread to start the day.

And now these hailstones, slowly fade,
Their memory in puddles laid.

So listen well, my darling child,
The world is fierce, and yet it's mild.

The storm may come with icy breath,
But life will bloom despite its death.

We'll plant again, our roots run deep,
The earth remembers what we keep.

You’ll learn to grow, to fall, to rise,
Beneath both storm and sunny skies.

The world, you see, can break and heal—
It crushes, yes... but it can feel.

And when you face its wild unknown,
Remember, love: you're not alone.

A Frosty Message to My Loved one

My Dearest Jayan ,

The sky, a canvas, bruised and gray,

Did scatter shards of frozen spray.

A tempest's fury, swift and keen,

Did paint the fields a frosty scene.

Kanthalloor's hills, in emerald embrace,

Lost summer's warmth and verdant grace.

A sudden fury, swift and cold and white,

Brought hail, a tempest, in the fading light.

Oh, Jayan, you should have seen it! Large stones of ice, hard as icy glass, tumbled down, a chilling mass. The clattering sound was a symphony of nature's fury, raging all around. It descended on our fields, a cruel and frosted pane. My cardamom plants, the ones we tended so carefully, are gone. My vegetable garden, all our hard work, it's just...bruised and battered sore beneath the wrath of heaven's icy roar. Some of the mud sheets on our house even broke! It was a wondrous spectacle, yes, but a pain to see the damage, vast and wide. Our canvas marred, our garden cried.

Unmelted shards, on earth they lay so still,

A frozen landscape, nature's icy will.

Hours they lingered, glistening, stark and grand,

A silent testament to heaven's hand.

But now the storm has passed away,

The sun peeks through, a golden ray.

The hailstones lie, a frosted hoard,

A memory, forever stored.

I know your sheep and cattle would have been startled, Jayan, It was quite a sight. The hailstones are still here, these treasures of the winter year, covering everything like a pristine, frozen carpet. I've been out here, marveling at the icy art, feeling the chill, the frozen might of nature's hand. I even started playing with them, throwing them, making them bounce and shatter. They are so pure and bright, these gems.

Won't you come, to gather near,

These treasures of the winter year?

To marvel at the icy art,

A frozen beauty, playing a part.

To feel the chill, the frozen might,

Of nature's hand, in day and night.

To collect these gems, so pure and bright,

And find a solace in the light.

But Jayan, ask yourself, would you return again, to face this tempest, and the frosted pain? For though the bounty of this frozen sphere might tempt your heart and capture your desire, remember well the wrath that brought it down. We need to heed the lesson from this frosted crown. It's beautiful, yes, but it took so much from us.

Come soon, Jayan. Let's see this strange beauty together, before it all melts away.

Yours,

Leela,