Sudhan Subedi
A Friday night call came from a friend,
But two replies outright condemned.
One claimed urgency, a crisis at max,
The other excused with commitments that stacked.
No typsy evening of laughter and fun,
No chit-chat beneath both moon and sun.
Yet, fate had plans of its own to make,
For that evening, the two would partake.
One held a bag brimming with tomatoes,
The other bore potatoes, heavy as halos.
They shared a smile, knowing the game,
The creative excuses, all the same.
A hint of duty in the air,
For home-cooked meals they’d prepare.
Vegetables won, over barroom snacks,
Responsibilities, no turning back.
