Chester Bennington: Pricks through me like melting swords on a cold wall
When I was a little girl, some 14 years old, I learned this name for the first time,“Chester”. I belong to a country which is India, where back in early 2000s, listening to music that was “not Bollywood”, was a privilege not many people celebrated. I didn’t too.
As I didn’t own a computer, I used to sit in a cousin’s garage, where there was this big, beautiful computer with everything attached. Speakers, webcam, etc. You name it. It also had Internet! And so, I would go out every Sunday, wait for an elder brother or sister to come, enter the login password, finish off their work, after which, I could get my turn. Hours passed waiting sometimes, and it was totally not worth it.
But this time it was. For as I sat and waited, my cousin played “In the end” in the background and sang along. To my 14 year old teenage brain, it was a piece of rubbish, but it was Linkin Park (too much buzz), so why not.
After he left, I played it again, and the first song that popped in the YouTube suggestions was “Leave out all the rest.” Oh my god! That very song took my heart away. I played it over and over again. Who sang it? I googled. And there he was. My first favorite “English rock song”, sung by “Chester Bennington”. It was also the first ever piece of singing I shared with a room full of people who knew me and butchered it really bad.
“When my time comes,
forget the wrong that I have done,
Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed….”
Chester Bennington. The man who screams out his heart. The man who inspires a million fallen creatures to step out into the dawn. The man who killed himself two years ago and nobody could save him. I honestly have nothing to talk about him. We all know the kind of a legend he is. His history, his bands, writings, etc.
But then, why is he bothering me so much after 2 years of his departure? What do I have to say about him that’s keeping it’s place in the heart? He is the guy who has taught me how love doesn’t have a reason. But attachment does. Then why is it still so hard?
It’s hard because on the night of 20th July (time difference), when the media had already announced the news of his passing away, my shocked eyes couldn’t believe it. Chester Bennington? The man who said those amazing things? Umm…are you sure?
And then I played his songs on repeat, and every word was torture. It was like looking at him screaming for help into the unknown, and we motherfuckers enjoying and savoring it. He was like this giant old creature sailing our spaceships out into the universe cause we had run out of power. What the weight was doing to him was irrelevant.
“I am holding on, why is everything so heavy?”
It was not an easy time for me. People kept telling me I was overreacting. I kept going in, in and deep in. Thinking, maybe I could find him somewhere trying to get out, trying to be liberated. But no, he had already been liberated, and it was hard to believe. It is still so, so hard to believe.
From that day forth, I fell in love with tattoos. Have always disliked them, strange carvings on your skin that stay permanently. Nevertheless, Chester loved them, so did I.
You can call it a normal and stupid human behaviour, but I think I fell more in love with him after I knew I never “really” could love him. He was gone, they said. But how do I believe it? I can feel him sometimes. Traversing the length of my room to see if I am okay. He was not a motivation for me. I have no idea when did I start loving him so much. That his almost bald head, tattooed hands, unrealistic voice, and humility, brought a surge of conflict and compassion in me like tidal waves do on a full moon day at the seashore.
He has always been there, on the stage. Singing “One more light” as his lovers wrap their hands around his barren skull hoping to get something out of it. But in his head, he is moving away. With every word and every breathe, as is the beating inside:
Forgetting…all the hurt inside you have learned to hide so well
Pretending…someone else can come and save me from myself
I can’t be who you are
I can’t be who you are….
Chester Bennington, I love you. You are alive. Here, and now…I do not know how to end this…so…seeya?
