A bored little girl,
On the banks of Indus
In North Western province.
Wrote poetries on slabs
Of stone and threw them
Around.
Meaningless strokes of
Etchings that meant
Only relief from daily
Chores.
Millennia later,
Archaeologists, Historians
Getting hold of those to
Decipher the meaning.
Reaching consensus over
The assumption that
They're records of day to
Day transactions.
Why didn't they consider
The possibility of innocent
Folly of a bored little girl?
Did we grow so high on
Our own intellect that
We're compelled to give
Meaning to everything?
Is that why these civilizations
Fall, evolve and arise?
Maybe yes. If it is yes.
Then it's such a tragic yes.