Granny and the Silent Graveyard

At night, the village of Rampur was silent and dark. Only Granny walked slowly on the narrow dusty road that led to the old graveyard beyond the thick banyan trees. People in the village said she had lost her mind after her grandson Aarav disappeared one hot summer evening. They whispered she spoke to shadows inside the graveyard.

Granny always carried a small brass lantern. The flickering flame barely lit her way as she entered the graveyard where old stones leaned against each other and names were long gone. No one was buried there now. The villagers said the soil was cursed from a tragedy long ago. But Granny did not care. Every night, she came back.

She would sit near a plain, unmarked stone, placing sweets and water beside it. Her voice was soft. “Eat, beta,” she said, her wrinkled fingers trembling. Sometimes she laughed quietly in the dark as if a child answered her. 

One night the wind blew strong through the neem trees. Granny heard soft giggling. It sounded just like Aarav. Her eyes filled with tears. “Aarav, is that you?” she called.

The giggling changed to footsteps. Light, quick steps ran around her. When Granny turned her lantern, the light showed nothing at all. The footsteps stopped right behind her. She felt warm breath near her ear.

“Daadi,” a voice whispered.

Her heart pounded fast. “Aarav?” she asked and turned with shaking hands.

The lantern flickered. For a moment she saw a small figure crouched low to the ground. Bare feet, head bent strangely. But the eyes glowed dull red, and the mouth was stretched too wide into a smile.

Granny stumbled back. “No, you are not my Aarav.”

The thing giggled again. “But you call me every night.”

That night the villagers heard screams from the graveyard. Then they heard children laughing. In the morning, Granny’s lantern lay broken on the ground. The sweets were scattered, and tiny barefoot footprints circled the place where she sat.

Since then, anyone who passes the graveyard at night hears Granny’s voice in the whispers. She hums an old lullaby. Some say if you follow the sound, you will see Granny sitting under the banyan tree. She rocks an invisible child in her arms. Dozens of small eyes watch from the shadows.