Site of Harappan Civilization at Lothal, Ahmedabad.
A view of house settlement with proper drainage
system
A view of Deck then prepared , still harvest the rain water.
Fantastic
Workers Of the terrain By. Prof. Haikai
Tane
C f C E , New zealand
About
80 Kilometres From Ahmedabad, Gujarat stands the ancient Harappan
town, Lothal. The town has no great wealth, its landscape
is miserably sun burnt and its soil dry and parched. It is
little wonder that Lothal means the mound of the dead in Gujarati.
But 4,000 years ago, 100 X 1000 among the principal centres
of the Indus Valley Civilisation.
Lothal was excavated between 1955 and 1962, revealing many
marvels of ancient technology and traditional wisdom. These
include developed systems of weights and measures, intriguing
remains of seafaring vessels and sophisticated environmental
design and town planning concepts. While all this is quite
well known, there is also tangible evidence that Lothal’s
residents had a fascinating terraquaculture system integrated
land and water use practices. Such systems are in fact common
to most traditional societies, but the one in Lothal seems
to be particularly advanced for its time.
Terraquaculture in Lothal was based on lunar farming cycles
and made effective use of seasonal flooding. The system involved
a dextrous integration of the city’s settlement infrastructure
with its ecosystem. Waterways were created for transport within
Lothal; there were canals for irrigation and aquifer fed drop
wells for domestic water supplies. And this is not all: Lothal’s
residents developed intricate drainage systems and sophisticated
brick cisterns for cleaning and purifying water. These were
equipped with aeration chambers and lime and charcoal filters.
Mining, manufacturing and other industries were located near
waterways and linked through networks of river ports, canals,
shipyards and warehouses.
The farming practices in Lothal’s floodplains were imitated
elsewhere in the city as well: creatures such as fish, crustaceans,
turtles and snakes were common in the pond – paddy systems
worked by water buffaloes. Linking diverse activities required
great environmental, technical and cultural skills and intelligence.
The Harappans did this without a written language. Like their
Asia-Pacific neighbours, the Indus valley people transmitted
traditional wisdom using graphic, iconic and symbolic information
systems.
Doing
without a script
The Harappan seals typify such information systems. For example,
let us consider the yogi seal of Mohenjo daro (archaeologists
describe it as seal 33). Most archaeologists and historians
interpret it as a nude male deity with three faces. From a
traditional villager’s perspective however, the figure
is simply a pregnant hermaphroditic ensconced on a rustic
three leg stool of platform with bovine legs. On the figure’s
right side is a female breast above a pregnant belly. The
creature carries a branch of the tamarind tree in its right
arm. The hermaphrodite’s male side has muscular pectorals
and it’s left arm carries another tree branch with pinnate.
Another tree, the Bodhi (ficus religiosa) appears right above
the figure. All trees represented in the seal have medicinal
values interestingly, in the Indus and Asia Pacific regions,
traditional medicinal plants often have gender attributes.
It is quite likely that Harappan seal 33 is an accurate representation
of medicinal tree crops, bovine livestock, fishponds and fertile
family life rather than a complicated religious token reflecting
some esoteric matriarchal cult or early religion as has been
claimed by several scholars. Viewed from a peasant’s
practical viewpoint, the Harappan yogi seal is an iconic picture
of fertile humanity thriving upon terraquacultures integrating
trees, fishponds and buffaloes (and other bovine beasts).
In fact, the traditional paddy – pond – dyke systems
represented here are found in many places throughout the Asia
Pacific. Similar systems are even found today in many villages
near Lothal.
Sometimes the eclectic wisdom of traditional peoples is far
too iconic and enigmatic for specialised modern sciences.
Moreover, because pictorial imagery varies from place to place
(and in such dynamic ways as well) it is not scientifically
measurable or replicable except by art, myth or legend. So
it is little wonder that traditional cultural icons are misunderstood
as ancient writing forms, interpreted as obscure deities or
worse still, simply ignored.
What
do we learn?
Today Lothal is no longer the thriving centre of trade and
commerce, nor a centre of innovation and excellence. But why
did the port city succumb so thoroughly – and yet remain
quite intact, buried under metres of flood deposits? Historians
and archaeologists say that the expansion of human settlement
in the Lothal watershed gradually denuded the landscapes,
stressing the city’s water systems beyond the limits
of their resilience. The consequences were long term and entirely
predictable: catastrophic floods and the eventual collapse
of riparian ecosystems. Regular droughts and floods, eroded
gullies and sunburnt soils are in fact, quite common physical
symptoms of long term environmental abuse and dysfunctional
watersheds.
The lesson from Lothal is timeless. It matters not how sophisticated
our science, how clever our technology; nor how beneficial
our trade and commerce – even with their manifold benefits
we can still fail dismally and be obliterated. The port city
reminds us that the secret for sustaining communities is developing
a culture that operates within the limits of environmental
systems.
However, Lothal’s few remaining shade trees, patches
of browse-resistant shrubs and abundant weeds indicate considerable
potential for environmental restoration. In fact, the Anand-based
non-governmental organisation (NGO), i.e. National Organization
for sustainable Development (NOSD) intends drawing lessons
from the Indus civilization.