"Silent Night, holy night..." caroling all the way with riotous childhood memories from school

 'Christmas in the air' carols - Childhood memories sleigh all the way from the North(N.Delhi - home of my alma meter)

As part of the school choir, we practiced Xmas carols, under the tough vigilantes of the nun(s). Well, the annual ritual did not see rhyme or reason with the truth that not all in the choir were gifted with a nightingale's croon. But it was the choir or dramatics or volunteering for some unknown cause, as part of extra curricular activities. While I was gifted with a good voice, my interests vacillated between theatre and choir. Theatre , because I could be emotionally melodramatic, as entitled, without having to feel awkward about it. 

So, there we were, as the infamous poet Vikram Seth's band of frogs and nightingales, in the same group, croaking and crooning in full-throated ease. Under the supervision of Sister Jemella, we were to maintain a lady-like composure - which meant, no giggling, whispering, nudging  ( and you were to keep either austere expressions or a smiling face - but mind you, the smile could NEVER translate into a 'grin like a Cheshire cat'). Sister Jemella's notoriety for straitjacketing the convent-bred girls, had seeped in through our overwrought nerves. While many in the choir group loathed with helpless silence, the mention of 'J', there were few rebels who were ready to cross a few boundaries. So, the ones of the like forged a bond and hatched a conspiracy to dethrone Sister Jemella, for the rest of the season.

We the group of  four( the four feisty  rebels without a cause) decided to give a twist in the tale of Xmas and teach sister J a lesson that she would remember for the remainder of her life. 

The plot was to smuggle in a couple of the lab rats and let them loose in the vicinity  of Sister Jemella, during one of the practice sessions. Our devious plan was hatched in 4 phases and to be executed at the earliest- as Xmas celebs at school was nearing.

Phase 1: To clear the coast for stealing lab rats. Two team members who fit the profile of carrying out flawless espionage were assigned the task of surveying the biology lab, specifically to monitor the schedule of lab usage and the exit and entry timings of the lab assistant. This lab was designated fit for operation the following day - in exactly 24 hours.

Phase 2: Sneaking out tiny white rats - our potent biological weaponry. Now, this was tricky, as the rats' supply to the school was done as per a weekly schedule. So, we had to extract little nuggets of critical information - from none other than our grumpy yet chatty the lab assistant. This task was assigned to me through general plebiscite,  the reason being that my reputation for being nerdy complemented by my guileless appearance, will just strike the right chord with the lab-assistant. So, I dispatched myself to the mission,  the next day, when I had a biology lab hour. A casual banter  with our lady, on the lines of: how the white rats looked cute, and whether the chloroform snuffed the life out of them or whether the autopsy was carried out in in a comatose stage or confirmed death stage, and how she was doing a marvelous job of taking care of rats, while helping out the students at the same time(teenaged girls + rats are as menacing as a ticking time bomb which can wreak havoc on anyone's mental being). At the end of the conversation,  she looked, as I vividly recall, aglow like the Christmas star, which had risen on the birth of baby Lord Jesus. 

Phase 2.1 : Getting the armory ready. Our "armory" had to be gotten ready on Wednesday, as I gathered, that the deposit and stock taking happened on Wednesday. So, I volunteered to help the lab assistant with the stock-taking exercise. She readily agreed. Who would not do with an extra pair of hands, with pesky mice and even peskier mice suppliers.  The comatose mice came in carton boxes, which were later to be transferred to the specially prepared steel cages - wherefrom they would be headed for mass crucification - of being pinned up on trays and cut open. While transferring a trio of these white creatures, to their cages,  I noticed that our lab assistant  was preoccupied with a heated argument with the supplier. I grabbed the opportunity and squeezed the trio into a perforated and gnawing-proof cloth bag and swiftly pinned it to the inside of my blazer. That done, I had to then dislodge myself from the 'scene of the crime'. I let out a whimper, with a look of alarm on my face. The lab assistance pivoted to 180 degrees from her current position. "What happened? she asked. "I just remembered that Miss Rose had asked me to come and meet her about some assignments.  And, I totally forgot about it" , I replied. "Sorry, Ma'am, but I need to rush now. Hope you can do the rest on your own?". "Yes, yes, you go. I will do the remaining" she responded, not without a note of annoyance(My unexpected pitching in for the mice stock taking must have proved to be a breather for the lady. Who does not seek, from the routine of lab-work, hovering nuns and well, the perennial chloroform  odour? My  abrupt departure was justifiably not taken in the right spirit)

Phase 3 - Caching the weaponry

The 'weapons' we had amassed,  were transferred to a well-cushioned tiny cage(the accessories and props for our mission, were the courtesy of our friend - whose family member was into the 'Rat-control' business - dealing in rat poisons, traps, baits and sorts. She was the outlier who refused to conjoin the, to quote her "rebels without a cause" but we invoked the covenant of friendship to make us help her at our hour of need). Thereon, the cage was placed in a readily accessible air vent of our locker room. The mouse-feed was kept ready, just in case, the teensy brats woke up from their comatose state.

Phase 4 - Mission Deploy 

The D-day had arrived to exact our tyrannical revenge on Sister Jemella. Our weaponry was safely concealed beneath the layers of my woolen clothing(For a change, I was thankful that my mom had purchased an over-sized cardigan and blazer - I could cache a good deal of 'stolen treasures' without being conspicuous). As per clock work, the bunch of 20 choir girls assembled in the auditorium for the practice session. We assumed our usual positions in the group. While we did, I sensed a wriggly thing moving up and down  rendering a ticklish effect in my abdomen - the left side of it, to be precise. I held my blazer flaps tight. To an outsider, it might have evoked suspicion. Imagine someone clutching hard their abdomen, which gives the impression that the inhabitants are  boxing with the neighbors, in a fight over boundary walls and what not. So, my act of holding tight did catch the attention of the girl standing next to me. She asked worriedly, "Are you ok? Do you have a stomach pain or something?". I assured her that I was absolutely fine, with no twinge of sorts in the area, she was now staring at.

"Silent Night, Holy Night"

SILENCE!" - Sister Jemella's voice boomed in the auditorium. We all stood in attention, while I retained my composure, with the concealed tiny brats  fooling around in  the limited space of my cardigan pockets. "So, girls let us begin our practice with Silent Night", commanded the Sister. The drummer started her beats, while Miss Mendonca, our piano teacher, fingered through the keys. The humming started, and we kicked in with "Silent Niiight....Hooly night..." . It was at the second-time rendering  of this line, that we heard a ear-piercing squeal that would have broken the window panes of the auditorium to smithereens! I can't render sound effects to the scene that unfolded here but it went off like "Hoooly................Molllyyy there is a mouse there Sister, there is a mouse!", screamed one of the girls in terror! Realizing that our plan was hatching before time, I felt my coat pockets, sensed the bump, and freed the remaining from their prison. So, what followed could never be described in words. We got to witness the sight of 3 white mice running amok in our school auditorium. While Sister Jemella was trying to make sense of the commotion, we the school choir, were trying to find our foothold on the steps, which was specially arranged for us, to stand in a group, at different elevations .  While shuffling our feet and attempting to maintain a strong footdhold, one of the mice came homing back to where I was standing and ran over the feet of the standee next to me. It is one thing to watch mice from a safe distance and totally another, to have them gravitating towards you, and groping you with tiny paws and whisky whiskers. What followed the close brush with the mouse, was not only hilarious but totally chaotic. The victim, tried to hop, skip and jump to the next best refuge - the floor level to the exit door. In doing so, she tripped and her tripping had a dominoes effect on the rest of us. We lost our foothold and came tumbling down those four steps, like Jill from the nursery rhyme, who just goes rolling down a hill. We gathered our wits and were caught by Sister Jemella bawling her lungs out, to maintain calm. Well, an elephant in the room would not have evoked such a reaction. but mice, they are deadly scampering brats! What would Sister Jemella know about it! More than that what caught our attention was something that would remain in our hearts and minds forever! One of the lab mice was seen hanging from the hemline of the Sister's skirt and another was holding on to dear life, clenching her wimple, between its teeth. It was a sight to behold. While I was praying to Jesus that Sister Jemella makes do for a fulsome meal for the rats, one of the teacher's pets from the group, cried out, "Sister, watch out, the rats are all over your dress!". 

The 3 blind mice who ran after Sister Jemella

Hearing the 'war clarion', Sister Jemella sprung into action. She did an unexpected buck and wing dance, twirled around to loosen the grip of the rats on her person. Little did she realize that her merry-go-around with the mice on her being had only brought her within close range of the furniture and the large piano. So her blindfolded hopping, first made her crash on the piano keys. The girls(including me) who were running helter skelter, paused to check as to who was rendering the music(At other times, I would have happily hummed '3 blind mice, see how they run' without inhibitions. But the current situation demanded that I look for ways to save my a*se. Despite the chaos, our rebels' gang had coalesced once again)

While we pretended to be shepherding everyone to safety, we stalled at the music that filled the air. Tracing the source, we noticed that Sister Jemella was trying to regain her composure after heaving herself up from the keypad of the piano. No sooner, had she risen to full heights, the rats' duo,  crept out from the hiding of her layers of clothing, and were now clearly positioned on her crown. This was the last straw for the sister. She let go of the last skein of grace and composure and let out a scream for help, all the while trying to brush the brats aside, and stumbling every step - the major stumbler being her foot-high favourite chair - her throne from where she would pronounce her miserable judgement on us. This move not only made her fall backwards, but stretched her skywards, the legs were caught in suspension, in that vertical state for lack of momentum to do a somersault! It was a typical Tom 'n' Jerry scene, where the burly mistress of the house, trying to escape Jerry, gets on to a stool, loses balance, with Jerry shaking it to the moorings. The mistress in the scene invariably falls backwards, throwing open the layers of underclothing - from laced petticoats to colourful bloomers, which come to light(At that sight of Sister Jemella immodest unraveling, I could not stop ogling at the fineries that hid themselves under the drab clothing of nuns. I muttered to  myself  Ah, Sister Jemella, you double-faced #*&").  

Nevertheless, the spectacle threw us in into convulsed laughter. And had it not been for one of the alert gang members thwarting us, we would have rolled on the floor loud, trying to laugh our stomachs out! But the alert one, reined us in, we packed our a*se our from the epi-centre of turbulence, leaving Sister Jemella spreadeagled on the floor. Mother Superior and a couple of other teachers had rushed to the scene, tending to poor sister Jemella. As for the white mice, they seemed to have escaped from the clutches of their crucifying destiny, as they were not reported to be caught even later.

But what was in store for us, as the mystery behind the 3 white mice let loose, started to unfold? I was the first one to be caught.And knowing well, that it would not have been the brainchild of a single entity, I was grilled to reveal the names of the co-conspirators. But we claimed equal responsibility of being the master mind behind the 'devious' plan. That way we upheld the spirit of comradeship(we would have made the Russians proud, with our demonstrated camaraderie) 

As Mother Superior was admonishing us, in her 'gas chamber'  like room, with her glassy stare and stentorian voice, we could hear the rendition of  "Silent Night...", with the choir rising to a crescendo "...Sleeep in heavenly peace.....". But with the detention for a week, no lab-hours for a month, followed by no extra curricular, (plus incessant laments from the Mater, who was aggrieved that even convent discipline could not wrest out my tomboy instincts) we did not sleep in heavenly peace but we took heart over the fact that neither would our dear Sister Jemella have!