The Woman Who Laughed in the Graveyard

The Woman Who Laughed in the Graveyard

Every town has one story people whisper but never confirm.

In the town of Haripur, it was Raani Bibi — the woman who laughed in the graveyard.

She appeared after sunset. Always alone. Dressed in black. Hair undone. Sitting beside a particular grave under an old neem tree.

She never cried.

She never spoke.

She only… laughed.


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At first, people thought she was mad. Some said she’d lost her husband. Others believed she was cursed. Children were forbidden from going near the graveyard after Asr.

> “She talks to the dead,” said an old chai-wala.
“She doesn’t talk,” replied a boy, “she listens… and then laughs.”



Years passed. She remained.

She didn’t age.


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One night, Hamza — a curious 17-year-old boy — decided to follow her.

Armed with courage and a camera, he hid behind the boundary wall near the neem tree.

She arrived.

And she laughed.

But it wasn’t joyful.

It was… deep. Heavy. Like it came from her stomach but pulled something from the ground with it.

Then she did something strange.

She looked straight at him — though he hadn’t made a sound.

And whispered, without moving her lips:

> “You hear him too?”




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Hamza ran.

He didn’t stop until he reached home. He deleted the camera footage the moment he saw it — for in the video, her face wasn’t visible… just a void. A blur. Like the camera refused to capture her.

He never went back.

But the question never left him.

> “Who was she talking to?”




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The grave she sat by was old — no name, just a stone and some withered flowers. A village elder finally confessed:

> “That grave belongs to Junaid Akhtar — a man buried 41 years ago after being burned alive.”



> “Why?”



> “Because he laughed during a funeral. A child’s funeral. Said something made him laugh.”



> “What happened after?”



> “He disappeared for a week. Came back silent. Died mysteriously. No one ever found out what he saw.”




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And that’s when people remembered:

Raani Bibi appeared exactly nine days after Junaid’s burial.

Some believed she was his sister.

Others whispered she wasn’t human at all — that she was the echo of whatever made Junaid laugh.


---

One stormy night, she didn’t come.

People thought maybe… finally… she had passed.

But then, the grave cracked.

Literally.

The stone split, and the earth beneath it sank slightly.

No animal had touched it. No flood. No lightning.

Just an unnatural collapse.

The Imam ordered the grave sealed again.

The next evening, she returned — laughing louder than ever before.


---

One little girl asked her grandfather:

> “Dada, why does she laugh?”



The old man replied, “Because she saw what comes after the angels leave.”

> “What’s that?”



> “Something even the angels don’t name.”




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The final night came during Muharram.

Raani Bibi walked into the graveyard with a candle in each hand. She placed one on the grave. One beside herself.

She sat, looked up at the sky, and spoke.

For the first time.

> “He showed me the joke,” she said softly. “The joke of life. The joke of death. And I… can’t stop laughing.”



Then she was quiet.

And she never came back.


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Her body was never found.

But at night, some still hear laughing under the neem tree.

And the grave?

It continues to sink — an inch every year.