Harappa

I have been sleeping under the warm sun for a very, very long time. My walls are made of special red bricks, all stacked up nice and neat, like your building blocks. A big, friendly river flows right beside me, singing a quiet song as it goes. For many years, I was a secret, hidden under a blanket of dust and dirt. Can you guess who I am. I am Harappa, a city from long, long ago.

Many, many years ago, around the year 3300 BCE, friendly families came to live here. They built me carefully, with streets that were straight and wide, perfect for walking. Their houses were cozy and made from the same red bricks as my walls. Every little house even had its own tiny bathroom. They built big buildings to keep their yummy food safe and dry. I loved watching the children play. They made tiny toy carts out of clay and little animal friends to pull them. I was so happy when I could hear their laughter in my streets.

After many happy years, everyone left, and I became a quiet, sleepy place. Then, one day in the 1800s, new friends found my brick walls peeking out from the ground. Starting in the 1920s, kind helpers called archaeologists carefully brushed all the sand away to see my streets again. Now, I help everyone learn about the wonderful people who built me. I am here to remind you that even very old stories are important and full of wonder.