You lay open your flaws. You make yourself vulnerable to the externalities. You realise that to win a war, you may have to lose some battles. That is how you learn to survive in this world. That’s what they taught me.
Linkin Park’s Chester is no more. Mark Fisher, Chris Cornell and now, Chester. One after the other, the living specimens whom I would look up to; the people who have journeyed with me all along, through my waking life and dead-of-the-night trials, have put themselves to sleep. Forever.
Their writings were inlets into the chaos and uncertainty of a human soul; their words served as an emotional beacon of hope through the brightest and darkest days of my life — especially the darkest. They were the scribes of our history whose ideas, though germinated in distinct social conditions, could be instantly recognised and related to, across the globe.
In retrospect, they shaped me into what I have become. They fought for love, justice, and truth. They stood against the forces of hypocrisy, lies, inequalities, and material/moral destruction.
I still remember the day when I had given up on my final Physics exam in my junior college. Back then, ‘Numb’ was the only available song on my friend’s mobile. I listened to it for 5 hours straight — on loop. Every time the song had repeated itself, I would put myself in a different scenario, time, and space, and would walk through an uncharted territory, in vein with the lyrics and the guitar riffs.
It wasn’t insanity. No, it was not at all. It was a temporal bliss: a sublime feeling of belongingness where you were accepted for who you are. You lay open your flaws. You make yourself vulnerable to the externalities. You realise that to win a war, you may have to lose some battles. That is how you learn to survive in this world. That’s what they taught me.
Many such memories are buried inside me. They will disintegrate and decompose over my lifetime. But the life-experiences they have imparted shall stay forever.
RIP Chester Bennington.