flora continuans for stori it took us an saw many student on the school campus sime were playeng and some were tookto each otther i dide,ent know an yone so i was a littil bit afraid
my mother soon took mme to be head teacher he ask me few question and i ans ward them intiligent
the head teacher was very plased he poots he hands on mi shulder and said good your a hoghtli intiligent child you not a lot i,ll take in mi school I hope your be happy her
I was admitted the class 1. the head teacher is very nice person. he called the teacher said her. Mrs Laila this is a flora she is a new student in a class 1 take her to the class please
Mrs Laila talk me to the class. the class teacher welcome to my and give me a seat all the student in the class oire starting at me I field never to see all the new face but so nice filled easy I could make friends with two or there student sitting close to me
a new place is a new experience to my first day at school is a new experience in my lift I will reminder the day as long as I live
was sitting with his head down. he looks sad his hair was United and referred it was clear the didn't draught it at all
what happened farabi are you okay Aag flora
I am so SOG Flora I didn't want to talk say it for a b
but you have to how are is like a lord in the mind likhabō likhabō karē āra lēkhā hacchilanā.Samaẏēra sāthē sāthē saba kichu druta bhulē yācchilāma. Āra tā'i samaẏa kṣēpana nā karē likhatē basē gēlāma. Prā'imāri skulēra ganḍipēriẏē hā'i skula jībanē padārpana karatē'i manēra madhyē bēśa bhaẏa kāja karatē lāgalō. Paricita ganḍira bāhirē anēka baṛa skula anēka ṭicāra kēmanē sabakichu myānēja karabōcintāẏa paṛē gēlāma. Prathamadina ābbura sāthē kāṭhālatalī ucca bidyālaẏē yā'i. Balē rākhā bhāla ābbu ēka samaẏa ē'i skulēra ṭicāra chilēna. Prathamadina yakhana bhartī ha'i takhana'āmākē ēkaṭi bētana kārḍa dē'ōẏā haẏēchila. Āmāra rōla dē'ōẏā haẏēchila 34. Manē āchē ābbu āmāra bētana kārḍēra saba kichu phila'āpa karēchilēna. Chōṭṭa ēkaṭā bhulakarēchilēna tini. Āmāra nāma ābdullāha āla ēmarānēra jāẏagāẏa ābdullā āla ēmarāna likhēchilēna. Parē abaśya āmi sundara karē ābdullā ēra sāthē ēkaṭā 'ha' yuktakarēchilāma. Prathamadina āra klāsa haẏani. Ābbura sāthē bāṛi phiri anēka ānandē. Baṛa habāra ānandēSchool is not just a building; it is a treasure trove of memories, friendships, and life-changing lessons. For me, "Greenwood High" was more than just a place of education. It was a second home where I transformed from a timid, shy boy into a confident teenager. The most unforgettable chapter of my school life was the annual science exhibition in the 8th grade.I was never a bright student, especially in science. Formulas and equations seemed like a foreign language. But in the 8th grade, we had a new science teacher, Ms. Sarah. She didn't believe in rote memorization; she believed in understanding. She challenged us to make a project for the school's annual science exhibition.I paired up with my best friend, Rohan, who was brilliant at building things, while I was okay with researching. We decided to build a "Working Solar Water Purifier." Initially, we were very enthusiastic. We collected plastic bottles, charcoal, sand, and pebbles. However, after three failed attempts, the purifier was not working properly. The water was still cloudy. I was on the verge of quitting, feeling that I was destined to fail in science. I remember sitting under the banyan tree in the school playground, frustrated and sad. Rohan tried to cheer me up, but I was determined to give up. Just then, Ms. Sarah walked by. She saw us, understood the situation, and sat beside us. She didn't give us the solution. Instead, she said, "Do you know, Thomas Edison failed thousands of times before inventing the light bulb? Failure is just a step closer to success. Don't look at the result; look at the process."Her words felt like magic. We went back to the drawing board. We realized that our filter layer was not thick enough, and the angle of the sun rays was wrong. We spent the next two days refining the model. We stayed back after school, working hard, with Ms. Sarah guiding us patiently.Finally, on the day of the exhibition, we were nervous. Many students had flashy, electronic projects. Our project looked simple—just plastic bottles and sand. When the judges arrived, I was shaking. But I remembered Ms. Sarah's advice: "Process is more important."I explained how our project could help people in rural areas get clean water with minimum cost. Rohan demonstrated the purification process. The purified water was crystal clear. The judges were not only impressed with the technology but also with our commitment to social service.When the results were announced, our project won the second prize. It was not just about the prize; it was about the confidence I gained. I realized that with hard work, patience, and the right guidance, I could overcome any obstacle.Years have passed since I left Greenwood High. I am now an engineer, but I still remember the smell of the school laboratory, the shade of the banyan tree, and Ms. Sarah's reassuring smile. School taught me that failure is not the end; it is merely a lesson to do better next time. It was indeed a, truly, "unforgettable lesson."
School is not just a building; it is a treasure trove of memories, friendships, and life-changing lessons. For me, "Greenwood High" was more than just a place of education. It was a second home where I transformed from a timid, shy boy into a confident teenager. The most unforgettable chapter of my school life was the annual science exhibition in the 8th grade.I was never a bright student, especially in science. Formulas and equations seemed like a foreign language. But in the 8th grade, we had a new science teacher, Ms. Sarah. She didn't believe in rote memorization; she believed in understanding. She challenged us to make a project for the school's annual science exhibition.I paired up with my best friend, Rohan, who was brilliant at building things, while I was okay with researching. We decided to build a "Working Solar Water Purifier." Initially, we were very enthusiastic. We collected plastic bottles, charcoal, sand, and pebbles. However, after three failed attempts, the purifier was not working properly. The water was still cloudy. I was on the verge of quitting, feeling that I was destined to fail in science. I remember sitting under the banyan tree in the school playground, frustrated and sad. Rohan tried to cheer me up, but I was determined to give up. Just then, Ms. Sarah walked by. She saw us, understood the situation, and sat beside us. She didn't give us the solution. Instead, she said, "Do you know, Thomas Edison failed thousands of times before inventing the light bulb? Failure is just a step closer to success. Don't look at the result; look at the process."Her words felt like magic. We went back to the drawing board. We realized that our filter layer was not thick enough, and the angle of the sun rays was wrong. We spent the next two days refining the model. We stayed back after school, working hard, with Ms. Sarah guiding us patiently.Finally, on the day of the exhibition, we were nervous. Many students had flashy, electronic projects. Our project looked simple—just plastic bottles and sand. When the judges arrived, I was shaking. But I remembered Ms. Sarah's advice: "Process is more important."I explained how our project could help people in rural areas get clean water with minimum cost. Rohan demonstrated the purification process. The purified water was crystal clear. The judges were not only impressed with the technology but also with our commitment to social service.When the results were announced, our project won the second prize. It was not just about the prize; it was about the confidence I gained. I realized that with hard work, patience, and the right guidance, I could overcome any obstacle.Years have passed since I left Greenwood High. I am now an engineer, but I still remember the smell of the school laboratory, the shade of the banyan tree, and Ms. Sarah's reassuring smile. School taught me that failure is not the end; it is merely a lesson to do better next time. It was indeed a, truly, "unforgettable lesson."
The day I entered my new school, I was very nervous. My heart was beating fast as I walked into the big, unfamiliar building. Walking through the crowded corridor, I felt lost. However, the teacher was very kind and welcomed me with a warm smile. She introduced me to the class, and I sat next to a friendly girl named Sarah. During recess, Sarah introduced me to her friends. We shared our tiffin and played tag in the playground. By the end of the day, my fear turned into excitement, and I knew I was going to love my new school life.
,School life is the most memorable, joyful, and innocent part of a person's life. It is the foundation of our future, where we learn not just academic lessons but also lessons of life, discipline, and friendship. My school days were a mix of study, play, and unforgettable memories. My School and Classroom:
I studied in [School Name]. It was a large, vibrant, and welcoming place with spacious classrooms, a big playground, and a library. The classroom was decorated with our artwork, and I can still picture the sunlight coming through the windows. Unforgettable Memories:Friendship and Fun: The best part was my friends. We shared our tiffin, played together during recess, and sometimes got into innocent mischief.Teachers and Lessons: Our teachers were very supportive and caring. They taught us to be good human beings along with academic knowledge.Sports and Activities: I loved the PT classes and playing football on the school field. The annual sports days were the most exciting times.Recess Time: The bell after the fourth period was the sweetest sound, bringing a 30-minute break for fun, games, and chatting. Conclusion:
Looking back, I realize how carefree and happy those days were. Those memories of school life are treasures that I will cherish forever. It was not just an institution, but a second home where I truly grew up. প্রজেক্টের জন্য কিছু টিপস (Tips for Project):Title Page: সুন্দর একটি কভার পেজ তৈরি করুন।Photos: ছোটবেলার স্কুল জীবনের ছবি বা বন্ধুদের ছবি যুক্ত করুন।Quotes: স্কুল জীবন নিয়ে কিছু বিখ্যাত উক্তি যোগ করতে পারেন (যেমন- "School life is the best life")।
School life is the most beautiful and memorable phase of a person's life, which is full of learning, friendship and fun experiences
. It is a time when we learn important life lessons like honesty, discipline and friendship along with acquiring textbook knowledge. Sharing tiffin, teacher's scolding, sports, and the excitement of exams—all remain indelible in the memories, which give joy for a lifetime.
School life starts with a bit of fear in a new environment, but it quickly becomes a source of joy as we get to know friends and teachers. That thrilling feeling of the first day, the smell of new books, and the experience of going to school wearing a white dress can never be forgotten.
Tiffin time was the most cherished among the memories of my school life. Sharing tiffin together, skipping classes, or running around in the playground—these days will never come back. Teachers were our friends and guides, who not only taught us to study but also helped us build our character.
The times spent with classmates and friends were unforgettable. Worrying about exams, playing pranks with friends after exams, participating in cultural programs—all are considered the best times of life. Carving your name on the school bench, sneaking out of class in front of your teachers, or learning to get back up after losing in sports—all were a unique part of childhood and adolescence.
The last day of school was very emotional. At that farewell, which was mixed with tears and laughter, we all hugged each other and wished each other for the future. The confidence and education that school life has given us will always guide us on the journey of life. These memories will always shine brightly in the hearts of our minds.When I first walked through the rusty blue gates of Greenfield High School, I was ten years old and terrified of everything. The building looked enormous, like a giant who had been standing there for centuries, watching students come and go. The walls were painted a fading yellow, and the corridors echoed with laughter, footsteps, and the sharp ringing of the school bell.
I was not the kind of student teachers noticed. I was quiet, skinny, and always carried my bag like it was a shield. I preferred sitting on the last bench near the window, where I could watch the trees outside dance in the wind instead of answering difficult math questions.
From the very first day, I met Arif.
Arif was the opposite of me. He was loud, confident, and made friends within minutes. While I was carefully arranging my books, he dropped into the seat beside me and said, "Hey, you look like you're planning to escape through that window."
I smiled nervously. That was the beginning of a friendship that would define my entire school life.
The Magic of Morning Assembly
Every morning, we stood in straight lines for assembly. The national anthem would play, and we sang with half-sleepy voices. The principal would give long speeches about discipline, honesty, and success. Most students secretly counted how many minutes were left before classes began.
But sometimes, during those assemblies, I felt something strange — a sense of belonging.
Hundreds of students standing together under the open sky, sharing the same uniform, the same rules, the same dreams. It felt like we were part of something bigger than ourselves.
The Strict Math Teacher
If school were a movie, Mr. Rahman would be the villain.
He was our math teacher — tall, serious, and always carrying a wooden stick. His footsteps alone were enough to silence the class. Whenever he entered, Arif would whisper, "Mission survival begins."
Math was my biggest fear. Numbers danced in my head like confused birds. One day, Mr. Rahman asked me to solve a problem on the board. My hands trembled as I held the chalk.
I made a mistake.
The class laughed softly. My ears burned with embarrassment. But instead of shouting, Mr. Rahman surprised me.
He said calmly, "Mistakes are proof that you are trying. Try again."
That day, something changed inside me. I stayed after school and practiced math problems until sunset. For the first time, I realized fear could be defeated.
Tiffin Break Adventures
Tiffin break was the highlight of every day.
We would run to the playground like prisoners set free. Some played football, some cricket, and others just sat in groups sharing food. Arif's mother made the best chicken sandwiches. I usually brought simple rice and curry, but we always shared.
Friendship tasted better than any expensive meal.
Sometimes we didn't even eat properly because we were too busy laughing. Once, we tried to play football inside the classroom during rain. The ball hit the ceiling fan and broke it. We were terrified.
The next day, we were called to the principal's office. Instead of punishing us severely, he made us write an apology letter and help clean the classroom for a week.
It taught us responsibility — in a way no textbook ever could.
The Annual Sports Day
Sports Day was like a festival.
Colorful flags decorated the field. Parents sat under tents, cheering loudly. I had never participated in any competition before. I believed I wasn't good enough.
But Arif forced me to join the 400-meter race.
"You don't have to win," he said. "Just run."
The whistle blew. My heart pounded as I ran. Halfway through, I wanted to stop. My legs felt heavy. But I remembered something Mr. Rahman once said: "Effort defines you."
I didn't win first place. I didn't even come second.
I finished third.
When I received the small bronze medal, it felt heavier than gold. It was proof that I was capable of more than I believed.
The School Trip
In class eight, we went on our first school trip to the mountains.
It was the first time many of us traveled without our families. The bus ride was full of songs, jokes, and snacks passing from seat to seat. Teachers pretended to be strict but secretly smiled at our excitement.
At night, we sat under the stars. Away from exams and homework, we talked about dreams.
Arif wanted to become a pilot.
Rina wanted to be a doctor.
I said quietly, "I want to write stories."
They laughed — not to mock me, but in surprise. I had never spoken about my dream before.
That night, under the silent sky, I promised myself I would not stay on the last bench forever.
The First Failure
Class nine was hard.
Board exams were approaching, and pressure filled the air like smoke. Tuition classes, mock tests, expectations — everything felt overwhelming.
For the first time, I failed a math test.
I locked myself in my room and cried. I felt like I had disappointed everyone — my parents, my teachers, even myself.
The next day, Mr. Rahman called me after class.
He said, "Failure is not falling down. Failure is refusing to get up."
He gave me extra worksheets and spent time explaining problems slowly. No teacher had ever done that for me before.
That year, I passed math with one of the highest scores in class.
Sometimes, the strictest teachers care the most.
The Cultural Program
Our last year of school arrived faster than we expected.
For the farewell cultural program, I finally gathered the courage to perform something. Instead of singing or dancing, I wrote a short speech about our journey.
On stage, my hands shook just like the day I solved math on the board.
But as I looked at my classmates — the same faces I had grown up with — I felt strong.
I spoke about:
The broken fan incident.
The shared lunches.
The sports day medal.
The fear of exams.
The laughter in corridors.
When I finished, the hall filled with applause.
For the first time, I wasn't the invisible boy from the last bench.
I was heard.
The Final Goodbye
On the last day of school, we wore our uniforms one final time.
We wrote messages on each other's shirts. Promises like "Stay in touch" and "Best friends forever" covered the white fabric.
When the final bell rang, it sounded different.
Heavier.
We stood at the gate, not knowing how to say goodbye to a place that had shaped us.
Arif hugged me tightly.
"Don't stop writing," he said.
I smiled and replied, "Don't stop flying."
Years Later
Years passed.
Life became busier. College, responsibilities, new cities. We all chased our dreams in different directions.
One day, I received a message.
It was Arif.
He had become a commercial pilot.
He sent me a picture from the cockpit with the caption:
"From the last bench to the sky."
At that moment, I realized something powerful.
School is not just about textbooks, exams, or grades.
It is about:
Discovering who you are.
Learning from failure.
Building friendships.
Finding your courage.
Dreaming without limits.
Greenfield High School may have been an old building with fading walls, but for us, it was a universe of memories.
And sometimes, when I sit down to write stories, I still imagine that last bench near the window — where a quiet boy once watched the trees and dreamed of becoming more.
School didn't just educate me.
It transformed me.
The End.The first day I walked into Sunrise High School, I felt like the smallest person in the world. The building looked huge, the classrooms seemed endless, and the students appeared so confident. I was just a shy boy holding my school bag tightly, hoping no one would notice me.
I chose the last bench near the window. It felt safe there. From that seat, I could see the playground and the tall trees swaying in the wind. While others chatted loudly, I stayed quiet, observing everything around me.
That was when I met my first true friend, Sami.
Sami was cheerful and fearless. He sat beside me without hesitation and said, "Why do you look like you're attending a funeral instead of school?" I couldn't help but laugh. That simple joke broke my nervousness, and from that day, we became inseparable.
School life slowly turned into a world of small adventures.
Every morning, we stood in the assembly ground under the bright sun. We sang the national anthem and listened to the principal's long speeches about discipline and success. Sometimes we got bored, but deep down, those mornings created a sense of unity among us.
Classes were not always easy. Mathematics was my biggest struggle. Numbers confused me, and whenever the teacher asked a question, I prayed silently that she wouldn't call my name. One day, my fear came true. I was asked to solve a problem on the board.
My hands trembled as I held the chalk. I made mistakes, and some students giggled. My face turned red with embarrassment. But instead of scolding me, the teacher said gently, "Mistakes help you learn. Try again."
Her words stayed in my heart. That afternoon, I studied harder than ever before. Slowly, math stopped being my enemy.
Tiffin break was the happiest time of the day. The bell would ring, and we would rush out like birds set free from a cage. Some played football, others cricket, and some simply sat together sharing food. Sami always brought delicious homemade snacks, and I would exchange my simple lunch with him. We laughed so much that sometimes we forgot to finish eating.
Once, during a rainy day, we tried playing football inside the classroom. It was a terrible idea. The ball hit the wall and knocked down a chart our teacher had carefully prepared. The next day, we were called to the principal's office. We were scared, expecting severe punishment. Instead, he told us to apologize and help redecorate the classroom. That incident taught us responsibility in a way no lecture ever could.
Sports Day was another unforgettable memory. The field was decorated with colorful flags, and parents filled the stands with cheers. I never considered myself athletic, but Sami convinced me to participate in a race.
"You don't have to win," he said. "Just run with courage."
When the whistle blew, I ran as fast as I could. My legs felt heavy, and my heart pounded loudly. I didn't win first place, but I finished the race without giving up. That small achievement filled me with confidence.
As the years passed, studies became more serious. Exams brought pressure, and everyone seemed worried about the future. There were nights of stress and days of doubt. Once, I failed an important test. I felt disappointed and hopeless. But with the encouragement of my teachers and friends, I worked harder and improved my results.
Finally, our last year arrived. It felt strange knowing our school days were ending. For the farewell program, I gathered the courage to give a short speech. Standing on the stage, I looked at my classmates — the same friends who had shared laughter, mistakes, and dreams with me.
I spoke about our funny moments, our struggles, and our growth. When I finished, the hall filled with applause. In that moment, I realized how much I had changed from the shy boy on the last bench.
On the final day, we wrote messages on each other's shirts and promised to stay connected forever. When the last bell rang, it felt different — heavy and emotional. We stood at the school gate, not wanting to say goodbye.
School was more than just lessons and exams. It was where we discovered who we were. It was where friendships were formed, confidence was built, and dreams were born.
Even today, whenever I pass by that old building, I remember the laughter in the corridors and the sunlight entering through the classroom windows.
School life may end, but its memories stay in our hearts forever.