The repeated crop failures have shaken farm families in Alwar, bordering Haryana, part of India's grain belt.
In Kalsada village in Alwar, when the hailstorm in March rained icy pellets on fields of wheat and mustard, the shock proved almost fatal for one family.
Bullo Devi, 65, said as the hail drummed on their roof, she felt sharp pain in her chest. Later it was found to be a heart attack.
The next morning, her son, Bikram Singh, found almost all of his fields laid to waste, increasing the fragility not just of his mother's health, but also of their finances.
Bullo Devi showed us a packet of medicines she takes daily; so far she says she has already spent Rs 20,000 on her treatment.
This in addition to almost Rs 1.5 lakh crop loan from a local bank, which Bikram Singh says he cannot repay.
Two recent weddings in the family have further added to the financial strain. "That cost another Rs 3 lakh", she said.
The repeated crop failures have shaken farm families in Alwar, at the border with Haryana, part of India's grain belt. The sizes of homes - some of them two storeys - tractors, electric water pumps, all indicative of relative rural prosperity.
And yet, even here, suicides said to be caused by rural distress are being reported - the latest, Manoj Sharma from Alwar, who hung himself two weeks ago.
He was said to have been saddled with a Rs 70,000 loan, and medical expenses for his disabled daughter.
Politicians and policymakers tend to downplay rural distress, or even the suicides it sometimes cause, blaming it on farmers living beyond their means. This betrays a lack of understanding of rural economy.
Given the precarious condition of farming over the past few years caused by freak weather, even ordinary expenses, like health and weddings become an extravagance. In times of distress, they come weighted with risk.
MS Swaminathan, Chairman of the National Farmers Commission says it is critical for policymakers to find ways to make agriculture more remunerative, so farmers can have normal lives - and expenses - like the rest of society.
Here in Alwar, families like those of Bikram Singh are beginning to use language they have perhaps never had to.
"We have no choice. We will have to either sell our land, or kill ourselves."