Uprooted trees lie scattered on a Gopalpur road. Picture by Sanjoy Ghosh

The scary dark skies and roaring winds were enough to tell us about Phailin’s strength.

Holed up at my parent’s place in Chhatrapur, about 10km from Gopalpur where Phailin had made landfall on Saturday night, we felt scared and threatened.

We prayed for daybreak, but the night seemed long. As the day broke, semblance of normality began to emerge. But a step outside home revealed what Phailin has brought upon us. Trees and electric poles were piled up on the roads and houses, some of which were turned into a debris by the cyclonic storm.

A day before Phailin made landfall, this small town near Berhampur was deprived of power. Not watching the constant frightening predictions on local television channels was a relief to some extent.

We already knew nearby villages were evacuated and even here, people staying in huts and under tin roofs were taken to safe shelters.

It was good that the memories of the 1999 supercyclone had haunted us, else the calm weather on the eve of Phailin’s arrival could have deceived many.

The slight drizzle made our neighbours a bit relaxed. They thought that the raging storm would not affect the area.

Saturday morning was not sunny but neither was it extremely cloudy or dark. As the day progressed, the morning glow began to get dimmer and the storm started to gather strength by afternoon. My only link with the outside world was my mobile phone, which was fast losing its capability to stay alive.

But that was enough to find out how far Phailin was. Though it was about 400km far by 2pm, the rain had become stronger and the winds were already roaring. The confusions of neighbours vanished and fear gripped us.

The wind speed justified our fears and the loud whistles sounded like a ghost’s call. With coconut and palm trees dotting this town, we could hear the thuds of the falling trees from time to time. The sound of tin roofs flapping continued the whole day, but stopped by 8pm as these were blown away by the storm.

Everyone stayed indoors and as the night grew darker, the severity of the winds kept increasing. By about 11pm, the wind’s roar told us that the storm had peaked and there was a shift in its direction.

Though Internet worked on mobile phones, making call was just not possible. Soon, most phones got switched off and there was no power to recharge the gadgets.

Rattling and clamouring of windowpanes did not let most of us sleep throughout the terrifying night. The morning was comparatively calmer. People in pucca houses, like mine, were absolutely safe. Wind speed dropped, it drizzled but the Sun made a cameo appearance in the afternoon.

Roads were blocked with trees and electric poles that fell during the storm.

But local residents came out to clear the streets and rescue teams took charge to re-install electric poles.

Those who had inverters offered help to charge phones and emergency lights since the damage would take a few days for power to return. Mud and thatched houses of at least 20 people I know had been damaged and several streets were under water. However, with great efficiency the rescue teams cleared the obstacles.

Sadly, crops in nearby farmlands were washed away and a neighbour lost teakwood worth several lakh.

It rained heavily in the night, but a sense of relief gripped people as there was minimum loss of property.