Indus Valley Story (from The British Museum)

This is a fictional story made up from evidences found by archeologists.

The boy opened his eyes to the warm morning sun. He watched it sneak across the hard earth floor of his room and up the plastered walls. In the corner of the room he could see his toy cart. It was filled with small jars and looked as if it was ready for a journey.The boy smiled. It was market day today and he would go with his father to the marketplace. There his father would trade his beads with the travelling merchants.

The boy walked into the central courtyard of his family’s house where the sun was already bright and hot.

The boy’s father was already busy preparing for the day. The boy watched as his father sorted a pile of beads into groups.

It had taken so long to make each one of the beads and they looked wonderful. The boy loved the red beads the most. It was hard for him to believe that the gleaming, richly-coloured, rounded beads had once been pale, rough stones.

The rough stones were brought into the city by traders from the east. The boy’s father heated the stones in a hot oven until they turned a deep reddish colour. This colour was very highly valued by wealthy citizens and traders.

The boy’s father then chipped away at the red stone until it was the correct shape and size. Then he worked the stones into beads using small drills. The drills were difficult to use, and sometimes beads would break.

When the beads were finished, they were polished using a mixture of water and a fine, sand-like powder.

The boy picked up a bead and felt its cool, smooth surface and gentle curve. His favourite beads were the ones with the delicate white designs.

The boy looked forward to the time when his father would teach him how to make the red beads with the white designs. He still had so much to learn before he would be trusted with the precious materials. For now, he would continue to practise chipping, drilling and polishing less costly stones.

As he stood in the courtyard with his father, the boy heard the gentle hollow clicking of his mother’s bracelets as she entered the courtyard.

She wore several bracelets on her wrists like most of the women in the town. However, hers were special ones made of shell instead of clay.

When the boy’s father had finished sorting the beads, he and the boy left the house to go to the marketplace. They stepped out of their doorway into an alley. Then they walked to the main road and turned towards the upper town.

The main road was wide and busy with people and animals. This road ran straight across the lower town. The boy and his father passed by two or three other main roads which cut across the lower town. Along the sides of these roads ran the drains which carried waste water out of town.

The boy and his father walked through the lower town and middle town. Finally, they reached a large gate. Above the gate was a large board with several large white signs set in wood.

From the upper town, the boy could see out across the city. The city stretched a long way into the distance. Beyond the city boundaries he could see farmland, the water-holding basins and the river.

As the boy and his father passed through the gate, they saw merchants and traders carrying their goods with them.

There were the local men carrying their dried fish and grain, and there were the traders from far-away places. The boy watched the traders with great interest.

The traders walked through the market looking at the goods and greeting each other. The boy wondered about the far-away lands that these men had visited.

Some had journeyed from the east where they had traded for the stones his father used to make beads. The traders sometimes brought unusual stones with them. As they showed the stones, they would tell stories about where they had come from.

Other traders came from the west. They spoke of the long journeys in boats. These traders also told stories about people who lived in the towns they visited.

It was afternoon before the boy and his father had finished at the market. The boy’s father was satisfied with the day’s work and he smiled as they walked through the middle town back to their home.

As the sun faded in the sky, the boy imagined the time when beads that he made would begin the long journey to far-away lands, tucked safely into the folds of a trader’s cloth.