But of course, as things go, kid fell sick. he got a fever and a rash and could'nt move from bed. it had been a week since that exchange of animal pictures. Razor had been radio silent. kid stayed in a bed that morning, the first sign was a headache. All hot and bothered he burrowed into his pillows and flopped onto his stomach. he stayed like that for a long time, eventually falling asleep again.
Pretty soon, kids phone began playing "tu zinda hai" by the inshallah babes. Yes, thats his ringtone. groggily, kid picked up the phone without lifting his head and placed it to his ear. "hello? did something happen?" his voice came out all low and scratchy, he hadn't spoken yet this morning. "heyyyy, kid! i just thought i'd call you because i haven't texted you in a while" "oh...hi razor" yawns "what's going on" "oh no! did i wake you up?" asks razor. Like this they talked for over an hour where kid informed razor he wasn't feeling too good and had called in sick to work. and razor tells him how he had been really busy with the climate action group and had just found some free time.
"why don't i come over and give you some company?" asked razor.
"actually that would be really great" replied kid, eagerly.
"you said sita leaves for work at 2 right? I'll come by just before she leaves, i'd like to say hi to her too"
kid just lay in bed with a huge grin on his face. he didn't really need the company, but he was practicing leaning on people and not having to do everything alone, plus, razor offered. So while sita fussed over him, kid smiled and bore through it, because he knew razor was coming. at 1, his phone rang again, razor, asking if he should bring any thing.
"paya" replied kid, he could almost hear razor smile on the phone.
Pretty soon, razor was home, with a little container of mutton leg soup. he took over, hugging sita and sending her off to work.
"So," said kid, "i want to smoke some ganja because i'm in pain, would you like to join me?"
razor looked like he was buffering for a good couple of minutes..."um you don't have to if you don't want to," offered kid. "No," razor said,"i want to"
and so they sat, on kid's hand-tufted carpet, while he rolled a joint filled with flowers of all types to go with the main flower: chamomile, lavender, rose, all sealed up in lavender rolling paper. kid wore a lavender striped tee and lavender shorts. Even razor had somehow managed to match, with his lavender t shirt and blue jeans.
they sat on the floor passing the doobie back and forth, talking about memories, and lives and friends; kid even mentioned a little bit about being in the ring.
kid couldn't deny it, a part of him came alive with razor, a part that had been long dormant, was stirring. a sense of adventure, and possibility and the will to follow impulse. an interesting feeling after the months he had spent being extra careful, and the years he spent plotting his revenge. it seemed like the teenage life kid had been denied, was happening now.
razor meanwhile, was enraptured by everything kid said, asking him questions about his visions for queer liberation. kid enthralled him with his dreams of gender absurdity, razor's mind racing to keep up with the images kid was conjuring up with his words.
then they had paya, still warm and comforting and lay on the mattress side by side in the living room, warding off a food coma. music played soft in the background, some slow ghazals in a playlist full of iqbal bano, mehdi hassan and nusrat fateh ali khan.
quietly staring up at the fan as it spun and cried from the lack of oil, their heads almost touching but not quite, their arms side by side, an inch apart, sprawled in opposite directions on the single mattress, meeting in the middle, but not actually making contact.
the air was electric. kid felt this twitch in his finger, urging him to entwine it with razor's. razor was wondering how to break the touch barrier without asking, but still not coming off pushy. then kid burped. they both immediately went into a fit of giggles, still silly from the ganja, razor, reached out and lightly caressed kid's hand, almost as if in his laughter, he couldn't help but reach for kid. kids breathe stopped a moment, but their eyes met and they kept giggling, turning towards each other on the tiny mattress, fingers interlaced.
that was how sita found them when she returned early in the morning, sprawled with their fingers entwined and sound asleep on the narrowest bed.
kid woke up feeling a lot better, it seemed the paya had done the trick, as usual he went about his morning routine, being sure to be extra quiet and make an extra cup of chai for razor.
if kid was being honest with himself this early in the morning, he would admit that the company of razor had been healing too, distracting him from his itchiness and the body aches. it seemed just one night of not scratching and holding razors hand instead had done wonders to heal the rashes.
i'm genuinely happy kid mused, a bit surprised. its not that he didn't feel happiness often, he did. but his feelings had grown less intense since the burning building. and this joy, was like a helium balloon in his chest!
as he fed billie the billi lost in thought, razor began to stir. "oh...is that the same kitty?" he asked, his eyes half open and his voice all rough and low. Kid had to take a breathe before turning around to say "yeah, come say hi, she's going to leave soon"
razor rose from the mattress limb by limb, almost folding and unfolding himself and took slow steps towards the young man and the cat. as he crouched down, his knees cracked and billie looked up at him, concerned.
"aw she's already worried for you" said Kid, smiling, "are your knees okay?" "yeah, i'm just a little old" said razor as he stretched out his arm for billie to come head butt his open palm. Both kid and razor laughed, delighted at her immediate affection. "she took months to come to me, you know?" said Kid. "well, you must have done something right, because i've never met a cat this friendly" razor responded.
after billie the billi left, Kid (with his second cup of chai) and razor (with his first) sat talking and sipping in the small balcony off the kitchen. "how old are you?" asks kid. "why?" razor asks back "well...earlier you were saying something about your knees and being old? why are you asking why?" kid says in response. razor grins his grin and kid braces himself. "i'm born in '97, you?" Kid sighs inwardly. "i'm born in '95" he says. and they both smile at each other.
"its just that-" razor says abruptly "people have been asking me this question a lot. because i talk about all the fuckshit people do in the name of activism. so they want to know how long i could possibly have been at it." kid just nods and smiles. "people just assume i'm young because of how i look" says kid. "its really annoying, thats why i'm so happy to be 30, they've got to take me seriously now!" razor grins again. they sip their chais and talk some more. until it's time for razor to leave for work. "hug?" kid asks, hopeful. razor leans forward and hugs him by the door. both still in last nights clothes, kid puts his arms gently around razor, who holds him tenderly. it doesn't last long enough. and yet they pull away, smiling. razor steps backwards, and swings around jogging down the narrow staircase.
