Angel Haze’s Blog Hop Giveaway continues. Today on this Tuesday Teaser we’re featuring a work by Haresh Daswani. Name sound familiar? It should. He’s giving away a couple of copies of his book The Evolution of Insanity this week. If you haven’t already done so, check out the giveaway. But first, a quick video featuring the Evolution of Insanity and an excerpt.
An author having a conversation with his fictional character, or losing control of his character, mind numbing points leading one twists and turns spinning the mind of the reader with hallucinogenic colors, concepts, and eurekas. The short stories begin simplified, and walks together with the author as he takes a personal journey deep within the universe of his own consciousness, dwelling, prodding, dissecting, and creating… This book is a play on different writing styles uniquely conjured by the writer from random inspiration and experimentation with poetry as prior experience. This is a chronological anthology spanning the imagination and sanity of the writer. This book is a collection of humour, satire, and philosophy, with the most unique writing style and twists. This books evolves as one reads, from basic and simple stories of humor, to deeper and more profound satire best savored twice.
One not so uncommon opening scene tends to be the hypnotic evening road, and the white… black… white… black… white… lines on the road, uniform and predictable. These lines fall trippy if you are tired from a long day, journeying back home, ready and waiting to surrender to the fate of dreaming, reaching that other state also known as the alpha state, where the road twists and turns and cars turn to fluffy clouds driven by pleasant in-laws (past, present, or future). One tries to sober up again and see that they are not fluffy, and are vaguely seen as pleasant or otherwise, they are just tolerated co-travelers staring on the road, wondering perhaps the same question, “isn’t this just the largest cocaine trail for the Gods?”
Pay attention on the road and keep your eyes open for the car in front. Make sure that it is his back you are facing, and not his headlamps, to ensure you are still on the right lane, and as he. It comes to that point in time that it does not matter who is right, but whoever is wrong gets you both in trouble, so your job is to ensure both of you are not wrong for your sake.
This isn’t the same driver’s ed test you had just a few years back, paranoid, paranoid, and remindful of your phobias of deja vous, and remindful of your phobias of deja vous. Stare away from the distraction of poster models on oversized billboards of women who are only perfect thanks to Photoshop, for even they cannot be that flawless, no one is that ugly as flaws make you beautiful, your stories.
Like your scar on the left knee from falling off the bike and onto your neighbor’s bush. Flowers that is, of a myriad of friendly colors that you might have remembered. Such were your pleasant days as it deemed demanding for your neighbor to make it all cheerful again. You were pitied for your wound, and your stupidity forgotten, such were the advantages of childhood.
Nostalgia is but a drug of pleasantries, friendlier times, flowery trees.
Reality sets in, black… white… black… white… black… white…
Left hand on the wheel, right hand on the stereo, change your tune to cruisin’ jazz nights with Incognito singin’ “Still a friend of mine” and the date you once had beside you might just reappear, or not. Together with your last date was your wallet, which you have consented to giving its contents just for that conversation you would never want to have now, the small talks, gossips, and getting to know quizzes.
It is your nocturnal state of mind, pleasantries, and expectation that the lovely face across continues shy and bubbly, pleasant like smooth Jazz and a well mixed glass of martini, or for others, a twist sour gin and tonic.
It has been a day too long, as the sun witnessed true. This evening too, has proven long, and long long long way back you stare at all your evening drives, staring at God’s cocaine line, and the many beautiful women who have sat beside you, chatty, bubbly, quiet, angry, scared, confused, constipated, or otherwise.
To the lonely rides home from a night longer still, and the lines of flaming shots taken in blue, green, orange, brown. Memorable evenings of which you have no recollection, after 3 sambucas too drunk.
You already have the most beautiful woman commit to staying with you forever, sleeping on the passenger seat, tired from the same long night you just went through. Her presence, enough to put a smile on the face, as you travel along.
White… black… white… black… white…
The Evolution of Insanity
by Haresh Daswani is available at:
About this author
An entrepreneur, environmentalist, racer, wine lover, writer, and many more random things. Haresh has started writing through poetry and upon its mastery (mostly boredom, you cannot truly master writing as it is an evolving process) has shifted to experimenting with essay and short stories.
Haresh’s passion in short story lies in being able to dwell within the universe of consciousness and experimenting, dissecting, and in short, exploring and destroying and recreating thoughts, concepts, interjecting hallucinations and twists focused on something deeper, engaging the reader to jump in and explore together.