We return to the guest house in anticipation. This is by far the clearest sky we have ever seen. The Bear, the Crow, the Hunter, the Whale, the Scorpion and many others are engaged in a most amazing celestial dance. Hercules and Perseus stood proud while Cassiopeia was sitting haughty on her chair. Hidden everyday of our quotidian lives by the lights of Mumbai, in Kutch the curtain is finally off and we can see the universe. This is the place where you can visualize infinity, touch it and feel it.
Infinity immediately also reminded us of our empty stomachs. We had a wonderful home cooked dinner by the caretaker. He was genuinely pleased to serve - not used to many people everyday. This was by far the least busy place he had been posted to in Gujarat - except in November when people dropped in for long and tiring daytrips from the Rann Festival. His pet dog strolled around with a large thorny collar. This is for protection from wolves, he helpfully explained, they go straight for the neck.
We decided to rest our tired backs. At 2.00 am, I finally realized I could not sleep. Disturbed by all the silence, I stepped out and glanced up, standing in hushed silence. I woke up the the other two also and we stared together in disbelief. There, right up above us was the most awe - inspiring celestial specimen, our galaxy - the milky way, shades of wafting cotton rising in the night sky starting from the swan and encompassing the archer, Sagittarius. Binoculars could detect here a vast treasure of nebulae, clusters - blobs and patches in the night sky where stars held congress, new ones were forming and old ones flickering out.
You can see the lightest of stars and this was the way they were visible 4,500 years ago in the land of the Harappans. It seems almost surprising, how long humans took to reach astrology. The ancients experienced divinity daily, night after night in fixed patterns from the shimmering Pleiades, Honeycombs and Butterflies to the gigantic cotton ring of the Milky Way. Linking this to inconsequential human fate was but a tiny leap.
At 4.00 we finally decided this was enough. We woke up later than planned the next day to visit the ancient city. Raojibhai, the ASI appointed local had promised to take us around. Unlike most other ASI caretakers, Raojibhai knew the site like the back of his hand. He could understand common sense archaeology and had worked with R.S. Bisht when the site was being excavated in the 90s. We could also see him showing villagers around.
A brand new plastic signboard directed us to the 'castle' - past two gigantic reservoirs. The Sarasvati was already in it's dying phases when Dholavira was erected. The residents here knew the value of water. Two fresh water streams fed the city and their water was stored all around. To this day, Raojibhai informed us, in the monsoon the streams could feed the city.
Right now though, the reservoirs were the reserve of the jungle rat - not the grey sewer bandicoots roaming a city but the brown rats of the the Kutchi desert. The archaeological digging was deep and had rendered the soil soft - the rats had easy pickings.
Archaeologists had graded the occupation of Dholavira into various stages, however, even untrained eyes could recognize two - the early city dwellers and the later squatters.
The early city dwellers lived in an amazingly planned city with a central authority. The 'king' would have been living on a raised platform - with a grand entrance - enough to awe any oncoming traders and the general citizenry around. The 'bailey' and 'middle town' housed probably the aristocracy and noblemen. Here, gems were fired, pots were made, grain stored and bazaars held whose precise right angled streets survive even today. These city dwellers dug wells, trained water to their large stone - carved tanks at which experts still wonder, executed a sewerage system unparalleled for years to come, made truck loads of steatite beads, fired carnelian, agate and all sorts of precious stones and were experts in stone buildings living amongst mud brick building contemporaries.
Then somewhere around 3,500 years ago these people disappeared, quite suddenly if we consider archaeological timespans. Why and how is still a matter of speculation that troubles archaeologists to this day. Some blame the environment, others a the fall in trade and still others point to unsuspecting immigrants. Some dinosaurs, fit to be under archaeological study themselves, blame invading Aryan armies.
The second phase of squatters could perhaps make sense of the ruins that lay around them, the way we do today. They were of limited means - using the earlier wells and tanks, building round huts on top of the 'citadel' ruins, transforming early drain covers to welcome mats and letting their sewerage out what was once the main entrance. The signs of early occupation and the conveniences of traditional life - water, dry land, sufficient stone would have attracted them in the first place and had given a second lease of life, though a fumbling and heart-broken one, to this ancient land.
On one of the steps of the citadel's entrances, taking us to a large rectangular 'stadium', we came across a large tin shed filled with rubble. Around it could be seen the signs of earthquake. One of the pillars was tilted. We stopped by the tin-shed and called out to Raojibhai who had walked ahead by now. He looked back, smiled and told us a story of astounding bureaucracy. When the site was being excavated in the 60s, the archaeologists found a specimen without comparison in the history of the subcontinent. We could almost imagine the conversation:
"Wow! Let's take this to Delhi !'
"And how do you exactly plan to do that ?"
"Load this on a truck.."
"And if the truck driver gets too drunk or too smart..."
"I get the drift.. we can't risk that!!"
"Yup"
"So if we don't take it to Delhi. What do we do ? We can't just leave it lying here. It's too precious for that."
"Lets just cover it with plastic, lots of mud, stones and build a shed around it."
So there, in that shed lay the largest inscription of the Indus-Sarawati Civilization we had ever seen. Three metres and 10 characters long, it was carved in gypsum on wood and had served as a large signpost over the stadium visible from all 'middle-town' and even the 'lower town', while the wood had decayed over time, the gypsum characters remained embedded in the ground.
Source: The Dholavira Signboard
I and Sohil walked around the site a bit while Frenil captured random Kutchi birds in his camera. The archaeologists in their zest had created another class division infested replica on the ground. Brick houses for senior archaeologists and mud-huts for the students - all unused since 2005, when the last season of excavations had happened.
The site museum was surprisingly well kept, with artifacts, pictures and also a polished ancient wood fossil - around 180 - 140 million years ago when this fossil was tree, Dinosaurs still roamed in India, the Himalayas were yet to be born, Madagascar was a small boat trip away and the Deccan traps with their giant volcanoes had yet to rock peninsular India.
Overwhelmed, we left Dholavira and headed to Bhuj, on to the next leg of our journey. On the way back to Rapar, we passed the Little Rann Sanctuary and with a large car and clicking cameras, disturbed a family of Neelgai resting peacefully, that ran away kicking dust into the air.
Infinity immediately also reminded us of our empty stomachs. We had a wonderful home cooked dinner by the caretaker. He was genuinely pleased to serve - not used to many people everyday. This was by far the least busy place he had been posted to in Gujarat - except in November when people dropped in for long and tiring daytrips from the Rann Festival. His pet dog strolled around with a large thorny collar. This is for protection from wolves, he helpfully explained, they go straight for the neck.
We decided to rest our tired backs. At 2.00 am, I finally realized I could not sleep. Disturbed by all the silence, I stepped out and glanced up, standing in hushed silence. I woke up the the other two also and we stared together in disbelief. There, right up above us was the most awe - inspiring celestial specimen, our galaxy - the milky way, shades of wafting cotton rising in the night sky starting from the swan and encompassing the archer, Sagittarius. Binoculars could detect here a vast treasure of nebulae, clusters - blobs and patches in the night sky where stars held congress, new ones were forming and old ones flickering out.
You can see the lightest of stars and this was the way they were visible 4,500 years ago in the land of the Harappans. It seems almost surprising, how long humans took to reach astrology. The ancients experienced divinity daily, night after night in fixed patterns from the shimmering Pleiades, Honeycombs and Butterflies to the gigantic cotton ring of the Milky Way. Linking this to inconsequential human fate was but a tiny leap.
At 4.00 we finally decided this was enough. We woke up later than planned the next day to visit the ancient city. Raojibhai, the ASI appointed local had promised to take us around. Unlike most other ASI caretakers, Raojibhai knew the site like the back of his hand. He could understand common sense archaeology and had worked with R.S. Bisht when the site was being excavated in the 90s. We could also see him showing villagers around.
A brand new plastic signboard directed us to the 'castle' - past two gigantic reservoirs. The Sarasvati was already in it's dying phases when Dholavira was erected. The residents here knew the value of water. Two fresh water streams fed the city and their water was stored all around. To this day, Raojibhai informed us, in the monsoon the streams could feed the city.
Right now though, the reservoirs were the reserve of the jungle rat - not the grey sewer bandicoots roaming a city but the brown rats of the the Kutchi desert. The archaeological digging was deep and had rendered the soil soft - the rats had easy pickings.
Archaeologists had graded the occupation of Dholavira into various stages, however, even untrained eyes could recognize two - the early city dwellers and the later squatters.
The early city dwellers lived in an amazingly planned city with a central authority. The 'king' would have been living on a raised platform - with a grand entrance - enough to awe any oncoming traders and the general citizenry around. The 'bailey' and 'middle town' housed probably the aristocracy and noblemen. Here, gems were fired, pots were made, grain stored and bazaars held whose precise right angled streets survive even today. These city dwellers dug wells, trained water to their large stone - carved tanks at which experts still wonder, executed a sewerage system unparalleled for years to come, made truck loads of steatite beads, fired carnelian, agate and all sorts of precious stones and were experts in stone buildings living amongst mud brick building contemporaries.
Then somewhere around 3,500 years ago these people disappeared, quite suddenly if we consider archaeological timespans. Why and how is still a matter of speculation that troubles archaeologists to this day. Some blame the environment, others a the fall in trade and still others point to unsuspecting immigrants. Some dinosaurs, fit to be under archaeological study themselves, blame invading Aryan armies.
The second phase of squatters could perhaps make sense of the ruins that lay around them, the way we do today. They were of limited means - using the earlier wells and tanks, building round huts on top of the 'citadel' ruins, transforming early drain covers to welcome mats and letting their sewerage out what was once the main entrance. The signs of early occupation and the conveniences of traditional life - water, dry land, sufficient stone would have attracted them in the first place and had given a second lease of life, though a fumbling and heart-broken one, to this ancient land.
On one of the steps of the citadel's entrances, taking us to a large rectangular 'stadium', we came across a large tin shed filled with rubble. Around it could be seen the signs of earthquake. One of the pillars was tilted. We stopped by the tin-shed and called out to Raojibhai who had walked ahead by now. He looked back, smiled and told us a story of astounding bureaucracy. When the site was being excavated in the 60s, the archaeologists found a specimen without comparison in the history of the subcontinent. We could almost imagine the conversation:
"Wow! Let's take this to Delhi !'
"And how do you exactly plan to do that ?"
"Load this on a truck.."
"And if the truck driver gets too drunk or too smart..."
"I get the drift.. we can't risk that!!"
"Yup"
"So if we don't take it to Delhi. What do we do ? We can't just leave it lying here. It's too precious for that."
"Lets just cover it with plastic, lots of mud, stones and build a shed around it."
So there, in that shed lay the largest inscription of the Indus-Sarawati Civilization we had ever seen. Three metres and 10 characters long, it was carved in gypsum on wood and had served as a large signpost over the stadium visible from all 'middle-town' and even the 'lower town', while the wood had decayed over time, the gypsum characters remained embedded in the ground.
Source: The Dholavira Signboard
I and Sohil walked around the site a bit while Frenil captured random Kutchi birds in his camera. The archaeologists in their zest had created another class division infested replica on the ground. Brick houses for senior archaeologists and mud-huts for the students - all unused since 2005, when the last season of excavations had happened.
The site museum was surprisingly well kept, with artifacts, pictures and also a polished ancient wood fossil - around 180 - 140 million years ago when this fossil was tree, Dinosaurs still roamed in India, the Himalayas were yet to be born, Madagascar was a small boat trip away and the Deccan traps with their giant volcanoes had yet to rock peninsular India.
Overwhelmed, we left Dholavira and headed to Bhuj, on to the next leg of our journey. On the way back to Rapar, we passed the Little Rann Sanctuary and with a large car and clicking cameras, disturbed a family of Neelgai resting peacefully, that ran away kicking dust into the air.
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