Two Peas In A Pod

SEPTEMBER, 2016:

It wasn’t a particularly nauseating day, in the typical sense, and yet, when Chamuk woke up in the morning, he felt the uncontrollable urge to commit suicide.

It wasn’t a peculiarly nonsensical day, in the traditional style, and yet, when Chasut woke up in the morning, he felt the untameable urge to commit suicide.

Thus, both our protagonists got out of bed, with almost a flourish, a smile playing about in their eyes, not a trace of it on their lips. They sat overly long with their first cup of coffee, and yet, downed their second in one testy gulp. With a spring in their step, they left their respective houses, and, as fate would have it, ended up waiting at the same bus stop.

In fact, my dear readers, if you’ll allow another little coincidence, they ended up sitting right next to each other while waiting.

So, the two little bundles of joy, enthusiastically conjuring up ways to end their respective lives, did not pay much attention to each other, nor even, I dare say, noticed the other’s presence, until:

SPLASH!

A car running down the road wet the tips of their brown boots, and, without an apology, disappeared round the corner.

‘Dammit!’ Chasut said, ‘And I was having such a marvellous day, too…’

Bending down to wipe his boot with a tissue, Chamuk nodded to him, ‘Tell me about it! I was having such a fabulous day myself!’

‘Yeah, too bad I’m not going to see the end of it?’

‘Tell me about it!’

‘Say what now?’

‘Well…this is rather embarrassing, but if you press…oh, alright, I’ll tell you! I’m going to jump off the L-----.’

‘Are you sure? Don’t you think the J----- is a better option?’

‘Why so?’

‘Well, for one, there’s much less wind resistance there.’

‘You seem to have done your homework, eh?’

‘Well, I too wanted to off myself today, as a matter of fact.’

‘Why then, I think I’ll take you advice, it’d be awfully lonely up the building, might as well have a pal around to climb it.’

‘Yeah, would help me get rid of the old jitters too, I’d say…The climb’s the worst, you know, and it gets easier if there’s someone to pass the time with.’

‘You know what they say…’

‘What’s that?’

‘The more, the merrier.’

‘Ah.’

‘Well, then. There comes the bus, let’s make an outing of it, eh, pal?’

‘Sure.’

However, no sooner had the two of them got up from their respective seats, and put their hands in their respective pockets, than they realized that neither of them had any money.

‘Oh dear. What to do now?’

‘Well...I’ll tell you, seeing as we’re both keen on dying, and both keen on not doing it alone, how about we call each other some other time, when we feel like doing it.’

‘But we feel like doing it now, don’t we?’

Well, yeah, but now, we don’t have any money…’

‘…and the moment’s passed too…’

‘…and the bus just left too…’

‘Oh well, let’s do one thing, then. Whenever we feel like killing ourselves, how about we give the other one a call, see if they’re up to it?’

‘Well…I don’t know, I feel like “feel like” doesn’t really cut it, you know, there’s no real objective definition to it, I’d feel a little quirky, if you know what I mean.’

‘I understand perfectly.’

‘Well then, we’re in a bit of a fix, aren’t we?’

‘I suppose we are…Hang on, what if we were to, I don’t know, call the other one only when we’re at the lowest point of our lives?’

‘When would that be?’

‘When you’re the saddest you’ll ever be.’

‘What about when you’re the happiest you’ll ever be?’

‘That’s a high point, not a low…so, what do you say?’

‘It’s a done deal.’

And so it was that one of the oddest pacts was forged on that day, not to be remembered until eight months later.

MAY, 2017:

‘…marvellous darling, marvellous…’

Chasut had been sitting in the living room, on an uncomfortable sofa, listening to his wife gush over the diamond ring he had gifted her for their tenth anniversary.

‘…is why I fell in love with you, and-’

‘Would you excuse me, just for a minute, dear?’

‘Why, of course.’

‘Thank you.’

Once he was locked away in his study, away from watchful eyes, he tiptoed to his telephone, and, looking into his drawer for an old piece of paper, found Chamuk’s number in a corner.

Ring. Ring.

Chamuk: Hello?

Chasut: Hello indeed, my dear old boy!

Chamuk: Who is this?

Chasut: Don’t you remember me? Your suicide buddy?

Chamuk: Ah yes, of course. How have you been my dear friend?

Chasut: I’m at my lowest point, I have three million dollars, seventeen cars, and I just gifted my wife a diamond ring, celebrating our tenth anniversary.

Chamuk: Then how are you at your low point?

Chasut: Because it can’t get better than this. This is all I will ever get, and never more, and thus, it is pointless to continue this life. So, I remind you of our pact…

Chamuk: Oh, well, I can’t kill myself with you right now, I’m at my high point. I have a quarter million dollars worth of debt, and no way to pay it back, my wife just left me for my butler, and I got robbed last night. Additionally, I broke my leg when I fell down from the stairs.

Chasut: How are you at a high point then?

Chamuk: Because it can’t get worse than this! This is the worst I will ever be, and thus, I have much to look forward to.

Chasut: That makes perfect sense, old boy. Very well, then, some other time perhaps?

Chamuk: Yes, perhaps.

And it was thus, that the pact was renewed, and forgotten until another eight months passed.

JANUARY, 2018:

‘…yes, yes, of course, yes…’

Chamuk had sold his house, and, with the money, opened up a modest clothing shop, that ended up becoming extremely popular, leading to a chain of shops, and three fancy cars.

‘…I have to call my parents, they’ll be so happy…’

He had just proposed to his new girlfriend, and was now bearing the brunt of her joy.

‘…you have been such a-’

‘Would you excuse me for a minute?’

‘Umm…sure.’

‘Thank you.’

Once locked up in his room, he tiptoed to the telephone, and, looking for a forgotten number, found it at the bottom of the mattress.

Ring. Ring.

Chasut: Hello?

Chamuk: Hello indeed, my dear old boy!

Chasut: Who is this?

Chamuk: Don’t you remember me? Your suicide buddy?

Chasut: Ah yes, of course. How have you been my dear friend?

Chamuk: I’m at my lowest point, I have a chain of shops, three cars, and I just proposed to my new girlfriend, and she said yes.

Chasut: Then how are you at your low point?

Chamuk: Because it can’t get better than this. This is all I will ever get, and never more, and thus, it is pointless to continue this life. So, I remind you of our pact…

Chasut: Oh, well, I can’t kill myself with you right now, I’m at my high point. I just found my wife in bed with my nemesis, and beat them both. I have to be in court this evening, for assault, and of course, I believe, she will sue me for everything she’s got, and probably win.

Chamuk: How are you at a high point then?

Chasut: Because it can’t get worse than this! This is the worst I will ever be, and thus, I have much to look forward to.

Chamuk: That makes perfect sense, my friend. Very well, then, some other time perhaps?

Chasut: Yes, perhaps.

And it was thus, that the pact was renewed, and forgotten until another eight months passed. Yet this time, Chasut had won the lottery, and Chamuk had committed first-degree murder. And then eight more months, and then eight months more, and then eight more.

In this way, three decades passed, and the men, now old, having lost the vigour of the young, found themselves sitting on the same bus-stand, right next to each other:

SEPTEMBER, 2046:

Chasut: Chamuk, is that you?

Chamuk: Could it be?

The two old man try to embrace, yet arthritis and lethargy prevents their emotional joy from materializing in a physical form.

Chamuk: Well, do you remember our deal?

Chasut: Of course, I wanted to broach the topic myself, yet, finding that I am neither at a high point in life, nor at a low point, I thought it better not say anything at all.

Chamuk: Ah, my friend, coincidentally, neither am I. Yet, back in the day, high point or low point, I simply did not have the time to think about our deal seriously.

Chasut: Oh, I see.

Chamuk: Today, I have nothing to do.

Chasut: Neither do I. And I have bus fare too.

Chamuk: Are you suggesting…

Chasut: It’d be quite enjoyable, if I may say so.

Chamuk: Indeed, old boy.

Pause.

Chamuk: Why did we not go atop the building the last time?

Chasut: I think it was because we didn’t have money.

Chamuk: But we have money now.

Chasut: And yet…the climbing…

Chamuk: I do not have the strength I used to have.

Chasut: And neither do I, my friend.

Chamuk: If one helped the other, then one of us could reach the top.

Chasut: But what of it, the one that reaches the top will come down, and the other too, albeit using the stairs.

Chamuk: In the end, both of us reach the floor anyway…

Chasut: So what do we do with the bus fare?

Chamuk: Fancy a coffee?

And so it was that the old men finally forgot about the pact, and chose the cup of coffee over suicide.