the other German pharmaceutical companies raced against each other to find the next miracle drug.”
Max glanced at the diary. “When Opa started making entries here, many of his colleagues were also on hunts for obscure cures and medicines in Africa and Asia. The idea was to try and translate them into modern drugs.”
Julian nodded.
“My grandfather’s good friend Bernard Baston was in India at the Indus Valley. He was an archeologist. My grandfather was in Bombay visiting a former colleague at the same time, so Baston invited him to visit the dig site. Clear so far?”
“Yes ma’am,” Julian said.
Max turned the page and began reading aloud.
CHAPTER NINE
From Samuel Rosen’s diary
Mohenjo-daro—“Mound of the Dead”
Site of the 5,000-year-old Indus Valley civilization
January 6, 1935
2:00 p.m.
Arrived a few hours ago. Hot as hell. Red dust everywhere.
3:00 p.m.
At the Colossus’s grave site.
Abdul, the almost hundred-year-old chief of the Chapar tribe, was our guide. The Chapars have lived in the nearby village of Hakkra for centuries. Abdul was putting me to shame, standing bent but energetic, unaffected by the sun, his piercing dark eyes tucked away in a face that was a mass of leathery wrinkles.
Our group today comprised my friend Bernard Baston (head of a team of archeologists from the Dresden Museum), Abdul Chapar (our guide), Abdul’s great grandson Fardoon (our interpreter). And me.
In the distance stood the remnants of the homes of the Indus Valley peoples. Immaculate brick structures surrounded a citadel, which may have been used as a granary. The bricks were all even, identical, and surprisingly, largely intact.
I followed Bernard to a small hill. There was a doorway in its side. We made our way down mud steps that ended suddenly, opening into a grave about 20 feet by 14 feet and about 6 and a half feet high. Bernard said 11 skeletons were found in the grave.
I walked around, feeling the rough walls under my fingertips, when I spotted some writing. Rows upon rows of beautiful symbols. I asked Bernard what the writings said. He said no Rosetta stone had been found yet. So an accurate translation isn’t possible. But, Abdul could read some of it.
I must have looked skeptical, so Bernard explained. Apparently, Abdul has managed to find quite a few treasures based on other written material. Before he was shown this tomb, Bernard said, Abdul had talked about what they might find in it. And he had been right.
Bernard signaled to Abdul. Abdul began to speak in Brahui, a local dialect. Young Fardoon translated. The underground tomb was built for Abdul’s ancestor Soodhanta—the Colossus of Mohenjo-daro. He was powerful, both in physical stature and status.
I spotted a large collection of urns stacked against the east-facing wall. I asked Bernard what they were. He said they were the reason I was there and handed me a few flat, round green discs, about two centimeters across. Their tribe has long life spans, even to this day, because of that pill, Abdul said.
The Indus people lived thirty to forty years at most. This I knew. So a life span increase even of ten years was a huge leap. It must have seemed as close to immortality as they were going to get. The pill must have worked like some sort of multivitamin, a combination of potent herbs that helped organs thrive longer.
The Chapars were appointed to guard the Colossus’s grave when it was first created. They were given the authority to kill anyone who tried to desecrate it. Bernard told me that Abdul’s family probably saw the futility of holding on to age old, irrelevant secrets. And they saw the power of money. Bernard’s people had offered quite a lot.
Bernard said they probably agreed to give them access after all this time because of a supposed curse. For years the Chapars had argued over whether or not to reveal the Colossus’s grave. These days, excavations here have trickled down. Seems Abdul’s people decided
Max glanced at the diary. “When Opa started making entries here, many of his colleagues were also on hunts for obscure cures and medicines in Africa and Asia. The idea was to try and translate them into modern drugs.”
Julian nodded.
“My grandfather’s good friend Bernard Baston was in India at the Indus Valley. He was an archeologist. My grandfather was in Bombay visiting a former colleague at the same time, so Baston invited him to visit the dig site. Clear so far?”
“Yes ma’am,” Julian said.
Max turned the page and began reading aloud.
CHAPTER NINE
From Samuel Rosen’s diary
Mohenjo-daro—“Mound of the Dead”
Site of the 5,000-year-old Indus Valley civilization
January 6, 1935
2:00 p.m.
Arrived a few hours ago. Hot as hell. Red dust everywhere.
3:00 p.m.
At the Colossus’s grave site.
Abdul, the almost hundred-year-old chief of the Chapar tribe, was our guide. The Chapars have lived in the nearby village of Hakkra for centuries. Abdul was putting me to shame, standing bent but energetic, unaffected by the sun, his piercing dark eyes tucked away in a face that was a mass of leathery wrinkles.
Our group today comprised my friend Bernard Baston (head of a team of archeologists from the Dresden Museum), Abdul Chapar (our guide), Abdul’s great grandson Fardoon (our interpreter). And me.
In the distance stood the remnants of the homes of the Indus Valley peoples. Immaculate brick structures surrounded a citadel, which may have been used as a granary. The bricks were all even, identical, and surprisingly, largely intact.
I followed Bernard to a small hill. There was a doorway in its side. We made our way down mud steps that ended suddenly, opening into a grave about 20 feet by 14 feet and about 6 and a half feet high. Bernard said 11 skeletons were found in the grave.
I walked around, feeling the rough walls under my fingertips, when I spotted some writing. Rows upon rows of beautiful symbols. I asked Bernard what the writings said. He said no Rosetta stone had been found yet. So an accurate translation isn’t possible. But, Abdul could read some of it.
I must have looked skeptical, so Bernard explained. Apparently, Abdul has managed to find quite a few treasures based on other written material. Before he was shown this tomb, Bernard said, Abdul had talked about what they might find in it. And he had been right.
Bernard signaled to Abdul. Abdul began to speak in Brahui, a local dialect. Young Fardoon translated. The underground tomb was built for Abdul’s ancestor Soodhanta—the Colossus of Mohenjo-daro. He was powerful, both in physical stature and status.
I spotted a large collection of urns stacked against the east-facing wall. I asked Bernard what they were. He said they were the reason I was there and handed me a few flat, round green discs, about two centimeters across. Their tribe has long life spans, even to this day, because of that pill, Abdul said.
The Indus people lived thirty to forty years at most. This I knew. So a life span increase even of ten years was a huge leap. It must have seemed as close to immortality as they were going to get. The pill must have worked like some sort of multivitamin, a combination of potent herbs that helped organs thrive longer.
The Chapars were appointed to guard the Colossus’s grave when it was first created. They were given the authority to kill anyone who tried to desecrate it. Bernard told me that Abdul’s family probably saw the futility of holding on to age old, irrelevant secrets. And they saw the power of money. Bernard’s people had offered quite a lot.
Bernard said they probably agreed to give them access after all this time because of a supposed curse. For years the Chapars had argued over whether or not to reveal the Colossus’s grave. These days, excavations here have trickled down. Seems Abdul’s people decided
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