- Sarah Saifee, Sushila Birla Girls' School
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The play Chalk About is a symphony of music, dance, and raw dialogue that leaves the viewers filled with bewilderment, amusement and awe. This play is not like your typical Romeo-Juliet or Disney musical and while it does have its feel-good moments, it constantly keeps the audience on its feet, trying to figure out what is going on, trying to draw out a number of associations and symbolisms. That is perhaps what is so beautiful about this play - it does not give the viewers what they want. The characters exist in a world of their own and while they constantly interact with that of the audience’s they are here to tell their own story in their own way and it is up to us to understand it. The characters of this play are Christine and Hendrik who talk about their life stories. They take us through all the heartbreak, pain, suffering, the good parts and the bad that they’ve gone through. While Christine narrated her story in English, Hendrik did not feel comfortable doing so. There was an interlude between Christine and Hendrik’s narration following which Hendrik went on an emotional rant about his life, in another language. The audience could not understand what was being said; we could just feel the emotions, read the expressions and understand the pain or the happiness in his voice, which was a beautiful allusion to the fact that sometimes, you don’t need to know what’s going on, you just need to empathize and be there. True to its title, the play and its characters constantly used chalk for different purposes. They outlined their bodies, used it to trace their steps, drew lines and circles to demarcate areas. They drew, erased and redrew, perhaps to show how we create so many different identities for ourselves; how we fit ourselves in a number of such chalk outlines, trying to figure out and label who we are and how it’s okay to constantly erase and redraw as your identity and your concept of self evolve, and you can begin with a clean slate any time you want. The question of identity is a persistent theme throughout the play and is reflected in the segment where Hendrik interacts with the audience asking them to make assumptions about him. ‘Do I look Scottish?’ ‘Do I look married?’, were some of the questions asked. Each time the audience responded with a concrete yes or no despite not knowing a thing about him. This only goes to show how easy it is for people to make judgments and how your identity is not just what you think about yourself, but is subject to other people’s perceptions. What I loved most about the play was how it did not seem to have a beginning or an end. When it began, none of us felt sure whether it had actually begun and when it ended, I kept expecting the characters to return for another scene. Life is not something which can be defined or understood. It ebbs and flows, permeating through the chalk lines we try to enclose it within. You don’t remember when it began and you never know when it will end. All you do know, is that while you’re there, you might as well try to just give it sense and live it to the best of your abilities. Chalk About was one such play that took the audience through a similar journey, one as beautiful as life itself.

 - Moomal Majee
“I see a sky, I see a sky full of stars….”
So I was humming, although it was not exactly a starry night, but a very sunny morning. It was my birthday, and I was waiting at the square for my school-bus. I was very excited and quite impatient to see my dearest friend Romi…. voilà! There’s the bus! I boarded the bus and scanned the seats, but there was no Romi. She surely wouldn’t miss school today, would she? 
We reached school, sang our prayers, entered our classroom, and then I was bombarded from all sides with “Happy Birthday!” wishes, chocolates, cards and gifts. I still couldn’t spot Romi. Of course I was overwhelmed by the love that I received from the others, but.…. Romi was special for me.
Six minutes into the first class, there she was at the door, saying “May I come in?” I shot her a radiant smile, indicating that she sit by me. But strangely enough, Romi joined Leia and Neetu at the back. That puzzled me, because they are also very close friends of mine, but neither had wished me today. But I couldn’t ask them just then, for class was going on.     
At the end of the first class, I beamed at them once again, but none of them even glanced at me. Had I offended them somehow? Before I could ponder over this thought, the teacher came in. Throughout the pre- lunch break classes, they appeared not to notice me. This thoroughly befuddled me at first, but then it annoyed me. I knew I hadn’t done anything consciously to offend them, and anyway they could at least tell me if I had, so it wasn’t my fault. So I too turned my back on them, my mood already blackened.
When the bell rang for the lunch break, Leia came and tapped my shoulder, “Sajiman, come here. “ 
I was feeling very much irritated by now, and I decided to ignore her. But she tugged at my hands insistently. So I fixed her with a steely glance (you see I was trying my best to appear cold).
Seeing this, Leia’s voice assumed an urgent note, “Romi is yelling off her head at the Games Room – something about you betraying her – oh please come quickly!”
What?! When didI betrayher? She hadn’t even looked at me since morning, and I was the culprit? I followed Leia toward the room, and opened the door with a furious expression on my face and some pretty bad insults at the tip of my tongue, and I was crushed by a thunderbolt. No, it was actually Romi, Leia and Neetu enveloping me in a bear hug, and drowning me in shouts of “Happy Birthday!” and choking me with a big piece of cake. 
And I wasglad that I hadn’t blurted out, because all the while they were pretending to ignore me, they were actually planning me a surprise! It was definitely my best birthday!
                                                                                               

-Deveshi Bose

Along the streets of Kolkata
Along the city of passion and joy
We admire the heroes
From marvel and abroad
Yet we never know or see
For whom we walk free
They are the unsung heroes
Whom we forgot along the road