There was the calm before the storm. Hitler's Young was in her cubicle more than normal. We were, as usual, dealing with the daily routines of calls, letters and emails. There were scurrying and whispering behind my back where the Big Buffalo and her team sat, as if anticipating what was to follow. A plan was being hatched amid an air of secrecy. The big boss was holding a routine dialogue with some of the staff which includes one from the Big Buffalo's team who was preparing a no-hold barred major backlash on Hitler's Young. The result: Hitler's Young was ordered to a close-door lecturing by the end of the day. Honestly, I was worried and felt helpless. Partly for Hitler's Young, of course, and partly, because I don't wish to see things developing to this stage. After all, I spend most of my waking hours in this place we called office.
At the end of the day, Hitler's Young was still in the chamber of torture of her ears and spirit. Before I left the office, I confided in one of the officer, who also happened to be my friend. We will call her "Tinkle Bell" for the goodness and kindness of her soul. Tinkle Bell, like me, was rather concerned about Hitler's Young. Her take on the issue was on Big Buffalo's refusal to take on the new tasks, which was close enough, going by my version. Except that I feel it all started with the statistics. And Tinkle Bell was all for the statistics. "They are hard cold facts after all", remarked Tinkle Bell. Even my doubt that the statistics do not tell all the story falls to move her. I left with words for her to inform me of the outcome the next day, if possible. We feel pity and injustice for Hitler's Young. I hope both have not been misplaced.