After his class five examinations, all 11-year-old Ravi Venkatesan wants is an idyllic vacation. His parents have other plans (obviously). Ambitions, more like it. For starters, his mother orders Venkatesan to maintain a diary to improve his handwriting. The boy, in a stroke of brilliance, decides to bare his soul between the pages, punctuated with Rajini one-liners, nuggets of wisdom which make him ‘Logic King’. One of the first and most logical things he does is to replace all the cuss words with names of fruits, in case his mother reads his diary to check on his handwriting. Larger the fruit, deeper the indignation. Logic.

Venkatesan’s parents have enrolled him in nine classes, including a working lunch of storytelling wherein a bad storyteller tells soporific stories. Among these, the IIT class is what he looks forward to the most because he shares his desk with Shweta, a good-looking classmate and Ramesh, Venkatesan’s “real friend”. Ramesh, explains the diary, is not like the friends Venkatesan’s parents force him to befriend.