Chester, in the end, it does matter

As I was going to grand central terminal a few weeks back, my childhood friend snapped me from overseas in regards to Chester Bennington and how he is no longer a part of our day-to-day reality. Later in the day, As I looked to inform my siblings, I learned that they had attempted to conceal his loss from me as I was excited to take a trip to the city to attend to my affairs. I felt torn, upset, and most of all, I was in both pain and disbelief.

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As a child of Asian immigrants, born and raised in the US, Chester Bennington and Mike Shinoda had both in a way raised me through being a consistent background noise in my life. I remember having a middle school friend burn me a copy of “Meteora” and “Reanimation” prior to traveling to Pakistan for summer vacation, where I would play LP’s greatest hits and introduce Bennington and Shinoda to my cousins. Jamming to “Collision Course” was my morning routine as I sat on the back of the bus with my walkman whilst being a freshman in High School

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Linkin Park’s meshing of resounding lyrics with a pioneered genre of rap / rock is what got me through the challenges of my adolescent years and what I even wrote about in some of my polisci essays in college. I even incorporated Linkin Park in my secondary ed. history-teaching career through making references to the band’s album, “A Thousand Suns”, which inferred in regards to Oppenheimer’s pessimism towards nuclear weapons. While covering World War II, I even incorporated Mike Shinoda’s Japanese-American experience that is cited in “Kenji”, a track featured under Fort Minor, which effectively provides insight in regards to Japanese internment camps.

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Hearing all the tracks throughout these past few weeks has made me realize the anguish that Chester expressed from Hybrid Theory to One More Light. As I scroll through all of Linkin Park’s tracks you can see Chester’s narrative of consistently battling his demons and witness his pleas. What started with the likes of “Crawling”, “In the End”, and “Pushing Me Away”, transitioned into “Somewhere I Belong”, “Nobody’s Listening”, and “Numb”. As the years went by, the tracks had once again taken an even more desperate twist which incorporated ,“Given up”, “Shadow of the Day”, and “Waiting for the End”. Finally, the track titles shifted into “Nobody Can Save Me”, “Good Goodbye”, and “One More Light”. As a Linkin Park fan, in the aftermath of Chester’s passing, one can experience the lyrics from a newer perspective: the lens of Chester’s battles and how his music was in itself, an escape for him, all these years. The reality is that depression is a real monster. Suicide and mental illness are issues that need to be discussed more openly and not left as taboo subjects. Hopefully, Chester Bennington’s story can serve as a means to bring about dialogue in regards to the tangible effects intangible thoughts can cultivate.

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From Chester’s flame tattoos to his iconic screams, all I can say is, thank you Chester Bennington. He truly is a legend and a generational voice. His void is truly irreplaceable and the updated Linkin Park hexagonal logo is a true reflection of how the band is incomplete without his presence. As an individual in my mid 20s, I was really looking forward to Linkin Park’s North American leg of their “One More Light” tour. It will be hard to move forth whilst realizing that Chester Bennington, lead singer of one of the greatest rock bands in the 21st century, has come and gone, all too soon.

I had the privilege and honor of at least having attending one of his memorials. Seeing fans come together from diverse backgrounds and different age groups made me realize the multigenerational impact Chester and Linkin Park had over the years. His memory will continue to live through his fans.

Rest in peace.

In the end, it does matter.

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The Chai of Madinah

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Mystical Intoxication of the Soul

Desert escapes to Madinah, unplanned and abrupt on some Thursday evenings. A rush of adrenaline as the Arabian driver smashes the accelerator carelessly through the night on the open roads to the city of lights, the city of the Prophet, the messenger of Allah. We don’t care if we live or die on the freeway as we are enroute to a land of mystique that eradicates sorrows. The landscape between Jeddah and Madinah on the Hejazi coast is saturated with blurs of distinct shades of brown. The Arabian sun sets and the darkest shadows appear in the presence of the harsh Hejazi hills. God orders His angels to mix and mesh the colors of the skies from an orange caressing an emerging purple which unify into darkening blue. The terrain looks rough, aggressive, and enveloped with a variety of obstacles for travel. One contemplates on the Hijrah and the ultimate sacrifice of the Muhajirs, who traded all their world possessions in exchange for God’s bounty and grace in the upcoming life. One can’t help holding back tears as you get closer and closer in proximity to the beloved of Allah and the playing of the Qasidah Burdah is engulfing you with a soothing that goes beyond description. Oh travelers to the city of the Prophet, the Chai of Madinah is not a fountain of youth, it is the rather a drink that unlocks and nourishes the grieving soul.