It Tells The Story. Poem by Gangadharan nair Pulingat..

Hundreds they came
For a survival in my body
For a retreat in my hands
In my fingers, ears and all over
I never complained and felt happy
I can take them as my own
They makes noises in nights
In days, and excreting underneath
Which makes me sufficient to nutrient
The winds tried their best
The thunderstorm threatened them
They were brave enough to withstand
My trunk is so powerful, branches also
The good earth gives me strength
But I apprehend the danger of humans
Someone came and bargains with my owner
Only for firewood I am useful
Why they make me for a sudden death
I can resist the winds to save all
My ripe fruits is so useful
Medicinal values and for curry purpose
I am not a stranger I am a tamarind tree.