Mr Oliver’s Diary is that lovely book which you pick up for just love of books. No botheration from plot twists, no fear of making philosophical senses, naught of connecting all the dots, Mr Oliver’s Diary reads really like a dear diary: open, realistic and yet so funny.
This was my third read of Ruskin Bond, the other being the duology of Room on the Roof and Vagrants in the Valley.
Mr Oliver is a school teacher who wears a wig and tries to not indulge himself in too much trouble. And yet, troubles come to meet him. There are many quips and replies in the book which make you crack up.
For example – even after so many years, I vividly remember the hilarious scene when a student has drawn on a reverend portrait some beard and moustache and the headmaster, angry about it, asks very strictly who did it. The student, who has done it to impress his friends, is in a dilemma as the headmaster announces he’ll punish everyone if the culprit does not present himself. Finally, the boy raises his hand and says, “It was me.” The headmaster, a grammar nerd, corrects him – “It was I.” “No sir, it was I,” says the the boy, confused, and continues this tug of war as the headmaster says – “No, it was I.”
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