She is bemused and looked at him, "I mean, how the fuck I would know and I just reached after braving a hard day at work, the rains and the mammoth crowd in the local train. You spend the whole day lazing at home and you should have looked for it."
He is infuriated at her growing irritation and lack of emphathy. He shouted, 'I mean, like fuck, I was just scribbling in the diary and it just disappeared. I have started to believe that there are ghosts in the room."
She walked away towards the hall and switched on the TV. A Tv programme on forgetfulness was being aired on NDTV and some words explained by the psychologist caught her fancy. He came inside the TV room and opened his laptog bag to search for the diary. After an unsuccessful search, he slinked on the couch to drink a glass of water. She smiled at him and asked, "Have you obtained your diary?" He looked around, wearing a tired look and shoot out, "Nahin yaar."
She laughed hysterically, "Baby, the diary is in your hand."
Both started laughing loudly and hugged each other.