Tragedy Averted

Nigdi or Koregaon Park,
We split hairs;
Even when it’s half dark,

(and) With our legs up on the chairs.

A kingfisher swoops down

On the river that’s brown

And comes up with nothing

Save a red glow of the evening.

The wise owl from the tree looks down at us,

Quietly sitting with only the breeze , to pass

A strand of your free long hair

Glides to settle on my blue attire .

As you snatch away that piece of mane

Intending not to split it with me;

I  look at your quiet face once again ,

As  splitting hairs always ends in a tragedy.