StarBijay: English School 🏫🎒

One day, a mosquito was flying in the sky. She was very hungry. She wanted to drink blood. She looked around. Then she saw a boy. The boy was sitting under a tree. He was reading a book. He did not see the mosquito. The mosquito flew slowly to the boy. She sat on his arm. Then she bit him. The boy felt pain. He looked at his arm. He saw the mosquito. He was angry. He hit the mosquito with his hand. The mosquito flew away very fast. She was not happy. But she was still hungry. She wanted more blood. She said, “I will go back. I want more. I need more.” So the mosquito flew to the boy again. She bit him again. The boy felt more pain. He was very angry now. He said, “Go away, mosquito!” He hit the mosquito again. This time, the mosquito fell to the ground. She could not fly. She was hurt. The mosquito was too greedy. She did not stop. She wanted too much. Now she was hurt. The mosquito was sad. She should not be greedy. She learned a lesson: “ Do not be too greedy. ”

The sun hung lazily in the afternoon sky, casting a golden shimmer over the surface of a quiet forest stream. Nearby, life buzzed with its usual rhythm—birds chirping, leaves rustling, insects humming. Amid this harmony, a tiny ant made her way along the edge of the water, looking for food. She was careful, as always, but one wrong step sent her tumbling into the stream. The current, gentle to the eye, was powerful to someone so small. She struggled, her legs flailing, each wave threatening to pull her under. Panic set in. She wasn’t built for water, and the shore grew farther with each passing second. High above, nestled in the branches of a mango tree, a pigeon was preening her feathers when she noticed the ant’s desperate struggle. At first, it seemed like just another moment in nature. But something about the tiny creature’s fight stirred her heart. She paused. Watched. Then, with a soft flutter of wings, she plucked a broad green leaf from the tree and gently let it fall. The leaf...

Ria held the teacup gently, her fingers tracing the thin crack that ran from the rim to the base. It had been her mother’s favorite. White porcelain with blue roses. It had survived countless moves, arguments, celebrations, and quiet, rainy evenings. But that morning, in her rush to clean up before work, Ria had dropped it. She stared at the pieces for a long time before picking them up. Her mother had passed away three years ago, but somehow the cup had remained—whole, resilient, like a part of her still sitting at the table every Sunday afternoon. Now it lay in Ria’s hands, broken. She almost threw it away. Almost. But something in her paused. Maybe it was the way the light caught the rim, the memory of her mother laughing over a story from her college days, or simply the weight of all the tea they had shared—comforting silences, confessions, even tears. So instead of discarding it, Ria cleaned the pieces and took them to a little shop she had passed by a hundred times but never ente...

One sunny afternoon, a young man named John decided to take a break from his busy day and sit under a large apple tree near his home. As he leaned back and looked up at the sky, a ripe red apple suddenly fell and landed on his head. Startled at first, John picked up the apple and laughed. It was perfectly round, shiny, and smelled delicious. Without thinking twice, he took a bite—and it was one of the best apples he’d ever tasted. But instead of tossing the core away like most people might, John did something unusual. He carefully saved the seeds. That evening, John walked into his little backyard garden, dug a few holes, and gently planted the apple seeds. Day after day, he watered the soil, kept weeds at bay, and watched over the spot with great care. His friends saw him spending hours tending to a patch of dirt and couldn’t help but tease him. “Why waste your time on a tree that won’t even grow?” one of them joked. But John simply smiled and kept going. He added compost, protected t...

One scorching afternoon in the heart of the jungle, the air grew thick with heat. A monkey, feeling hot and frustrated, leapt from branch to branch, wiping sweat from his brow. "This heat is unbearable!" he grumbled, glaring up at the bright Sun. "You're making life miserable for us down here!" The Sun, who had always shone to bring light and life to the earth, was taken aback. No one had ever shouted at him before — especially not a monkey! Hurt and confused, the Sun decided to take a break. He hid behind the clouds, letting the skies darken and the rain pour down. Days passed. The constant rain turned the jungle into a soggy, muddy mess. Streams overflowed, trees dripped endlessly, and the animals grew restless. Without the Sun to dry the land, everything began to suffer. Realizing his mistake, the monkey felt ashamed. He had never meant to hurt anyone — he had just spoken in frustration. He looked up at the grey sky and said gently, “Dear Sun, I didn’t mean t...

Sam was a bright boy with lots of energy. He liked to talk and often had something to say in every conversation. But over time, his words started to become hurtful. He would tease classmates about small things—their clothes, the way they spoke, or the mistakes they made. At first, some students laughed along, but soon, they began to feel uncomfortable around him. Many students didn’t know how to respond. Some felt sad, others simply stayed quiet. They were afraid that if they spoke up, Sam might turn his teasing toward them. The classroom, once full of cheerful chatter, became quieter. Laughter felt less warm and more nervous. Even group activities became harder, as students didn’t want to work with someone who might hurt their feelings. One afternoon, Sam’s teacher, Ms. Thompson, noticed that something was wrong. She had seen Sam’s behavior before but hadn’t realized how much it was affecting the class. That day, she asked Sam to stay after school for a quick talk. Gently and kindly, ...