Dazed and Confused

Born and raised a Hindu I never considered my religion as a part of my existence at all. I grew up opposing things I could not make logical sense of. Customs that did not have any practical significance and spiritual logics that worked within their own interests like politics. But it’s eminent that the GOD factor hits you in life every once in a while. When you question yourself, does he really exist? Especially in times of need and despair you tend to gravitate towards the idea of religion. One fine day in February 2007 every bit of my worldly possessions besides the clothes I was wearing got burnt in an apartment fire. I lost documents, pictures, clothes, money, and my school work, basically everything I had been working so hard for all this time.
My mother heard of this and went to do what she normally does in times of a problem, pray. On top of that she went to a “Jyotish baje” (fortune teller) and he recommended that I worship lord Shiva. Every time I talked to her she kept insisting that I become a little more religious or do as she says. I craved for an answer rather than a blatant remedy. I wanted to believe in something for a change but I just did not find the right direction. My way of being religious and answering to my mother’s request was to go get me a tattoo of “Om Nama Shivaya” on my forearm. That way I see the hymn dedicated to lord Shiva everyday for the rest of my life. But all this sudden changes faded away as time passed. But not for too long though.
Life got rougher by the day and to add to the trauma my grandfather who I was really close to growing up passed away. I could not even say goodbye or just be with my family. It took a heavy toll on me. Depression sunk in to me like a sinking freight ship .Deeper and deeper. I went on the 13 day long fasting as a mourning process, shaved my head and did what my culture and religion demands me to do. I used this time to do a lot of soul searching but it only brought more misery than answers.
One day I was at work feeling really depressed, down and tired of long shifts. A Sikh man with the traditional turban and a notebook in his hand walked into my work place. His eyes were distinct and piercing. His voice was soothing and comforting, especially at a time when I was restless inside. He asked me to show him my palms. In my mind I thought “Where the fuck did this guy come from”?, an Indian guy reading palms in the suburbs of Dallas. Just did not add up. But his persona was so strong he drew me towards him. It was almost as if I was under a spell. On a regular day I would not believe this guy telling me about my future by looking at my palms. But I was vulnerable at that time. I was in dismay when he mentioned a loss of a close one. I asked him who sent you here. He just said , “He can’t come so he sends people like me.”. To prove his point further on he asked me to think of a bird and put a piece of paper in my hand. He told me to open the paper without revealing to him what bird I was thinking of. When I undid the folded paper it had “Pigeon” written on it in Hindi. And that was what I was thinking of. The guy went on for about five more minutes bombarding me with blessings and guidelines. I could barely keep up with his tempo of doing things. He gave be a blessed piece of black stone that he proclaimed had an image of the lord Ganesh on it. It wrapped my fingers around it and told me I should wear it around my neck with a black thread. This seemed all too familiar but at a very unusual time and place. I was confused and to add to all this semi hallucinating experience the guy got down to business. “Son donate some money to the poor”, because if you give you will enjoy a larger return. Quiet an investment scheme he had. I offered a small amount of $10 which he blindly refused. I was so much in his spell I handed him; let’s just say a larger amount.
Throughout the remainder of the day I could not gravitate to what had just happened. Did the guy just con me? But at the same time his touch felt like it took off a load off my chest. I felt calmed and serene. Out of all these years I have worked here, I had never before seen the man. And as he walked away I felt weak and emotional. I thought of my grandfather.

A Tribute to Chuck Schuldiner

December 13 is the “Death” anniversary of my hero and one of my favorite music personalities, Chuck Schuldiner from the legendary death metal band called “Death”. I was still growing up when Chuck and his band were touring and writing music. But about a year before Chuck passed away due to brain cancer I laid my hands upon the iconic album “Symbolic” . Back then I wasn’t really into heavy music as much , I listened to bands like Pantera, Metallica, Sepultura, etc. But the first time heard the opening riffs of the song ‘Crystal Mountain’ I knew that this was the greatest shit I had ever heard. Lot of people label him as the godfather of Death Metal but I look at him more like a pioneer of innovative heavy music. Progressive might be another word that might describe Chuck. At an age when glam and thrash ruled the world Chuck chose a different path. He created a sound that was never heard before. Beautifully harmonized melodies, thunderous blast beats, guttural vocals and dark-philosophical lyrics. And often people accredit him for his guitar skills but I always thought Chuck was an amazing songwriter as well.

Do you feel what I feel, see what I see, hear what I hear
There is a line you must draw between your dream world and reality
Do you live my life or share the breath I breathe
Lies feed your judgment of others
Behold how the blind lead each other
The philosopher
You know so much about nothing at all

“The Philosopher,” Individual Thought Patterns

You be the judge.

His work truly is, ART. His influence on me personally is endemic. Some argue about his stint with Christianity before his death. It is contradicting to his work, yes, but I hate assholes who think they are conformist to the so called anti-social lifestyle.

Like this paranoid asshole.

http://www.anus.com/metal/about/metal/chuck_schuldiner.html

How metal can you really be? This asshole wrote to chuck’s mother and says this in his own writing “Judeo-Christianity, or Christianity; however you prefer, is the mindset that drives the hatred which drives a desire for a new way or possibility in metal”.

I would like to say to the self proclaimed advocate of Metal, “Speak for your own self- Asshole”. The same lyric that’s quoted above has been used by our friend at anus.com as Chuck’s defense of being a Christian. Chuck was Jewish by birth and our friends at anus.com I believe are Christians by birth, and if anus.com wants to talk about being pro-choice well I do not see why they dislike chuck. He made a choice, he had skimpy voice doesn’t necessarily mean he was gay; he loved cats thus he wore t-shirts with kittens on it. May Leonardo Da Vinci was a homosexual but does that discredit all his works?

Ps. No wonder it’s called anus.com, because it’s filled with assholes.

Chuck was a regular guy, shy, loved animals, cooked and took his mother to the mall for shopping. He was a musician. And just like preachers and god goons people that try to glamorize stuff like Satanism or any ideology about following something are on the same platform to me.

I didn’t wake up this morning wanting to write a blog about chuck but I got provoked and disgusted by the article that I linked above. The Sound of Perseverance is truly the sound of perseverance. I am not glorifying the man here gratuitously but glorifying his work, his art and his talent. What he was in his personal life has nothing to do with “Death” irrespective to all the propagandas. I don’t believe in them and more importantly I really don’t care.