The Laughing Library

There was a strange rumor in town:

The library at Noor Public School laughs at night.

No one believed it—except little Areeba, a shy 5th grader with big glasses and a bigger imagination.

She didn’t have many friends. While others played cricket r gossiped about cartoons, Areeba sat alone, doodling dragons in her notebook. Her favorite place? The library, of course.

It was always quiet… almost too quiet.

Until one rainy Thursday, something magical happened.


The First Laugh

Areeba was in the library reading “The History of Volcanoes (Extra Boring Edition)” when she heard it:

“Pfffft—BOOORRRING!”

She looked up. The librarian wasn’t there. The windows were shut. Still, the sound came again.

“Did you just snore while awake?”

Areeba stood up slowly.

And that’s when she saw it:
The book had rolled its eyes and yawned.

She gasped. “Did you just talk?”

The book flipped itself open to page 47 and pointed at a cartoon doodle of a volcano with eyes and sunglasses.

“Girl, even lava has more personality than this chapter!”

Areeba blinked. “I’ve officially lost it.”

“Nope,” the book said. “Welcome to the Laughing Library—where books have voices, and they’re tired of being ignored!”

The Secret Shelf

The talking book (whose name was Vee the Volcano) guided Areeba to the back corner of the library—a shelf marked “Damaged, Outdated, or Weird.”

As she approached, a dozen voices chirped:

“About time someone noticed us!”
“Did she bring snacks?”
“Shhh! She looks like a nice kid.”

Areeba was stunned. The books were alive!

There was:

Captain Grammar, who corrected everyone’s sentences mid-speech

Miss History, who complained about being misunderstood

Detective Mathlock, who spoke only in riddles

And Sir Scribble, a coloring book who had no chill


Areeba laughed harder than she had in months.

Operation: Save the Shelf

The books explained their problem: they were being removed and replaced with tablets.

“Children used to love us,” Vee said sadly. “Now they scroll, tap, swipe… but never read.”

“We have crusty bookmarks and wisdom!” cried Miss History.

Areeba’s heart sank. She understood. People had called her outdated too.

So, she made a plan.

Project Giggle-Lit

The next morning, Areeba marched into class with an announcement.

“I’m starting a new reading club. With books that talk.”

Everyone laughed.

“Like Alexa?” one boy snorted.

“No,” she said confidently. “Like personality. Like actual fun. You’ll see.”

She called it Giggle-Lit: The Laughing Library Club.

On day one, only two kids showed up: her curious classmate Hamna, and Daniyal—the boy who never smiled.

“Let’s just read,” Areeba sighed.

The Magic Spreads

Hamna picked up Captain Grammar, who shouted, “Finally! Someone who respects the Oxford comma!”

She giggled and kept reading.

Daniyal hesitantly opened Detective Mathlock, who said:
“I vanish when divided by myself, yet I start every count. What am I?”

Daniyal whispered, “Zero.”

The book glowed. “Clever boy.”

For the first time in weeks, Daniyal smiled.

Word spread fast. By the next week, the whole class wanted in.

They read, laughed, solved puzzles, and even acted out historical events with Miss History yelling, “That’s NOT how Napoleon held his sword!”

Learning became fun again.

Trouble Arrives

The principal called Areeba to her office.

“I’ve heard strange reports about talking books?”

Areeba gulped. “I just wanted kids to enjoy reading again.”

The principal sighed. “I love your spirit. But the school board wants us to go digital. These old books... they’ll be removed next month.”

Areeba felt tears sting her eyes.

Back in the library, the books had heard everything.

“It’s okay, kid,” said Vee gently. “At least you gave us one last laugh.”

“No,” Areeba said. “We’re not done yet.”

The Final Stand

At the school’s annual open day, Areeba and her club hosted a live show:
“The Laughing Library Experience”

Students performed skits from the books, did dramatic readings, even invited parents to try “Book Speed-Dating,” where they had to spend one minute with a surprise book.

It was hilarious—and heartfelt.

Even the principal couldn’t stop laughing when Captain Grammar corrected his speech on stage:
“It’s ‘fewer books,’ not ‘less books,’ sir!”

By the end, parents and teachers were cheering.

Victory for the Voices

The board changed its decision.

The “outdated” shelf was renamed:
“The Laughing Library Corner – Where Books Have a Voice”

Areeba became the youngest ever Library Ambassador, and Giggle-Lit became a weekly event.

She still visited the secret shelf, where Vee the Volcano would always say,
“Thanks for hearing us, kid.”

Moral of the Story:

> Just because something is old doesn’t mean it’s useless.
Sometimes the loudest laughs—and deepest lessons—come from the quietest places.