Of Christmas, Carols & Choirs: The Life of a ‘Convent Educated’
Convent school education was such, if you didn’t know the carols, you were not a fit enough to study in one.
When my 11-month-old nephew refused to take even a single morsel of food a few days ago, my sister and I subconsciously began singing jingle bells, jingle bells, to get his attention. To our surprise, he stopped fidgeting and began blabbering with us.
He started singing carols earlier than I did. I was 4-years-old when I was selected to sing in my school’s Christmas choir. My shrieky voice was considered appropriate for the high-pitched hallelujah.
Convent school education was such, if you didn’t know the carols, you were not a fit enough to study in one. If you didn’t cross your chest every time you cross a church, you were not reading the scriptures enough and the worst, if you didn’t have your uniform’s kurta below your knees or the dupatta was not perfectly pleated (left over right) you were not a “proper” girl. When I read Jane Eyre, I had an eerie sense of empathy with Jane; the similarities between Lowood and my school were starkly similar.
Here are some Christmas carols that I still remember by heart.
(At The Quint, we are answerable only to our audience. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member. Because the truth is worth it.)