Each month, as part of the monthly assignment for the creative writing class at the MS Center, everyone writes a 100-word prompt story on the same theme. This month we wrote about a fun, evocative piece of music called “Maharajah’s Fancy,” by Loris O. Chobanian. We were delighted by the stories the class wrote, and by how different each story was.
Impromptu Dance
Wendy Lamson Collier
Silently step, ball of foot to heel, glide. All is hushed, light dim. Sunlight enters, bright, not harsh. Heels of one foot tap, jutting forth, playful, then the other. Shoulders pulsate up, down, round and round. Waves ripple through ribcage and torso while hips sway back and forth with grace and welcome.
Gentle toe to heel again. Walk like in a forest, aware of being watched. Step by step mindfully on a sandy then pebble strewn beach. Skip rocks across the water as tongue echoes in staccato. Fingers fluid, then typewriter tap…pause, head lifts. Smiling eyes scan the sky.
Maharaja’s Fancy
Kathy McKnight
Each friend eases into 4/4 time, synchronized by a lightly waving hand. A piece that’s as much felt as heard, rehearsed time and time again.
The melody complex in its simplicity, born of fingertips, palms and picks. An exotic, visceral resonance created by a thingamajig that vibrates against the strings.
A ping.
Shared are smiles and glances, as each acknowledge a job well done.
A pause that lasts a bit too long.
An imagined voice then calls out, “Richard! Did you just fart?”
“Yes, and it felt soooo good!” replied Richard, after the curtain fell.
Maharajah’s Fancy
Laura Nicol
The dawn sun caresses the cool desert air and the morning breezes awaken. They stir the golden sand and chase it, swirling and sparkling, into the air. Strengthening in the rising heat the young winds play with the sounds of a caravan as it passes, traveling the Silk Road, heading for the next oasis. Thumping of the camels’ large feet hitting the sand and chiming of the bells sewn to their harnesses rise and fall with their passing. Slowly the day ebbs, the air cools, the sand returns to the dunes and the playful breezes return to rest.
Maharaja’s Fancy
Evelyn Panfili
The guitars, the chimes, the drums. I have just taken a daydream trip to a place I haven’t been in a very long time. Hip scarves with bells, sparkling coins, and pearls sway to the rhythm of the music and sandaled feet move slowly across the floor. Dark eyes flash and behind the face veils bright smiles hide. Zils tinkle at fingertips. The belly dancing troupe moves methodically. Harem pants and fitted tops in all the colors of the rainbow. The hafla is about to begin and will last the entire weekend. Dancing and festivities and escape from the ordinary.
Maharaja’s Fancy
Katie Yusuf
Locking eyes, the prospective lovers coyly circle the dance floor. Attracted by carnal desire, the intensity of their inner magnetism is palpable. Luring the other to make the first move, they teasingly bob and weave around the room, subsequently drawing themselves closer together. She sashays past him, flirtatiously swishing her red-satin skirt against his leg; he juts out his steady palm and pulls her into an amorous spin. Colliding, their beats synchronize. They cling to each other as the anticipation builds heat between their gyrating bodies. The impassioned rhythm climaxes, and the couple leaves in search of their own happy ending.
Maharajah
John Mistur
“What was that?” I ask Bootsy after she woke up to Richard dinging the bell, and kept waking up. So cute!
When I listened to Maharaja’s Fancy, I felt like I was riding a horse in the Sahara Desert. Something starts chasing after me. Some pirates with shawls over their faces, also on horses, trying to rob me, or perhaps some giant crabs throwing boulders at me—but in the end, I got away.
I escape into a busy desert town so I can find my redhead desert Queen who bears my emerald ring and wears an elegant Siamese cat belt.
Maharaja’s Fancy
Diane Baumgart
The audience gasped at the dancer on stage without musicians. I have their attention, Talil thought, and began moving in her musical dress, activating the reassuring, deep, soft tones of the chimes she wore. Skillfully, joyful, gentle notes from dangling crystals on her arms sounded, followed by an arpeggio from vibrating larger bells, a sudden silence, an unexpected minor key arpeggio, and wooden, flat, hollow sounds, eliciting feelings of loss and longing. Turning gently, Talil activated thousands of bells in a crescendo of full, joyful sounds. She hoped her unique performance might entice the Maharaja to fancy another performance.
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