In the first issue of 1997, Expedition was published by the Penn. The Museum of the University of Pennsylvania in the United States published the foolscap image of the Arya Samaja leader displaying the Copper Age sword in both of his hands. After the three odd decades, another delegation explored artefacts of the Copper Age and Bronze Age, including the ancient swords from the period of the Mahabharata in the Jhajjar district of Haryana.
The Indus Valley Civilisation (IVC), one of the world’s earliest urban cultures, continues to fascinate historians, linguists, and archaeologists. Its undeciphered script, stamped on seals and terracotta artefacts, has remained an unsolved puzzle for over four millennia. With the advent of artificial intelligence in the 21st century, the possibility of decoding this ancient script has drawn renewed global attention. While the excavated ruins of this Bronze Age civilisation largely belong to northern India, Pakistan, and Afghanistan, voices from southern India have recently become active in sponsoring cryptographic research, even announcing million-dollar rewards for anyone who successfully decrypts the script.
One name stands out in this pursuit: The cryptographer Bharath Rao, also known as Yajanadevam. His ongoing attempts to decipher the script suggest that he may be close to a breakthrough. If achieved, it could fundamentally reshape our understanding of Indian history, particularly in countering the much-debated Aryan Invasion Theory. According to his work, the Indus script may in fact be an early precursor of the Brahmi script, later used to inscribe Sanskrit.
Amidst this intellectual excitement, however, lies a tragic irony. While global interest in the IVC research is on the rise, the actual artefacts that hold the key to unlocking these mysteries are languishing in neglect. A prime example of this paradox is the little-known Swami Omananda Saraswati Museum in Jhajjar, Haryana.
A Treasure Trove in Ruins
Founded in 1960 by Acharya Bhagwan Dev—later known as Swami Omananda Saraswati—the museum houses thousands of invaluable artefacts, some dating back over 5,000 years. Its collection includes Harappan seals, terracotta figurines, coins, copper and bronze weapons, manuscripts, and sculptures gathered from excavation sites across Haryana, Punjab, Rajasthan, and Uttar Pradesh.
Among these is material from Rakhigarhi, the largest Indus Valley site discovered India, along with objects described in academic works such as Copper Hoards of North India by German archaeologist Paul Alan Yule. Yule’s extensive research in the 1980s and 1990s, part of which was conducted during the museum’s temporary relocation to Narela during the Emergency and afterwards, highlighted the global importance of these collections.
At its peak, the museum accumulated over half a million artefacts, including 150,000 coins and 250 weapons believed to date from the Mahabharata period. For cryptographers and historians, the collection is a goldmine. The Harappan seals, in particular, could play a pivotal role in deciphering the Indus script.
Yet despite this staggering wealth of heritage, the museum stands on the verge of collapse.
Broken Promises
The museum’s current plight reflects decades of official neglect. In 2014, the then Chief Minister allocated 1.7 million for the construction of a new building and sanctioned a monthly honorarium of 50,000 for its director. However, within just 20 months, the honorarium was discontinued, leaving the institution once again at the mercy of dwindling resources.
Manohar Lal Khattar, who later became a Union Minister, had also praised the museum during his tenure as Chief Minister, even referring to it as the “first museum of Haryana.”
Today, the museum’s management rests almost entirely on the frail shoulders of its 80-years-old director, Acharya Virjanand Daivkrni. For over five decades, he has been the custodian of this vast heritage, cataloguing, preserving, and guiding rare visitors. What was once envisioned as a centre of research and learning has effectively become a “one-man museum.”
A Wider Pattern of Neglect
The state of Jhajjar’s museum is not an isolated case. The Pandit Surendra Mohan Mishra Museum in Chandausi, Uttar Pradesh, another privately built repository of antiquities, faces similar decay. Both institutions were born out of individual vision and public support in the 20th century, but a lack of sustained state assistance has pushed them to the margins of irrelevance.
Veteran scholar Professor Lokesh Chandra has often recalled how the local communities generously contributed artefacts and resources during the formative years of these museums. The founders, motivated by a deep sense of duty towards the culture and heritage, built these collections not for profit but for the preservation of India’s past. Today, however, these legacies are crumbling. Without institutional backing, their treasures risk falling into the hands of international auction houses such as Christie’s or Sotheby’s, as has been the fate of many Indian antiquities before.
Why Museums Matter
Museums are not merely repositories of artefacts; they are living classrooms of history. Properly managed, they serve as centres for research, education, and cultural tourism. For Haryana, Jhajjar’s museum could have become a hub for global Indus Valley studies. Instead, its treasures remain hidden in dusty halls, vulnerable to theft, damage, and eventual disappearance.
The challenges of museum management are not unique to Jhajjar. Worldwide, maintaining such institutions requires substantial financial resources for conservation, documentation, and display. In Europe and the United States, museums are often supported by a combination of state funding, corporate sponsorship, and philanthropic donations. In India, however, private museums rarely receive such support, forcing them into slow decline.
The Way Forward
If India is serious about preserving its ancient heritage, urgent steps are needed. First, the Haryana government, in collaboration with the central Ministry of Culture, must step in to provide sustained funding. The Archaeological Survey of India (ASI), Maharshi Dayanand University, and the Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts (IGNCA) should be brought on board as institutional partners.
Creating a joint management trust, with ex officio representation from these bodies, could ensure professional oversight and accountability. Immediate priorities should include digital documentation of artefacts, climate-controlled storage, and opening the collection for academic research. Partnerships with cryptographers and AI researchers could also help in the long-term project of decoding the Indus script.
Secondly, involving the public is crucial. Local communities that once contributed generously must be re-engaged through outreach programs, cultural festivals, and educational initiatives. Ticketed exhibitions, publications, and digital archives can generate revenue while raising awareness.
Finally, corporate houses under their CSR (Corporate Social Responsibility) initiatives could be encouraged to sponsor conservation projects. India’s private sector has long invested in heritage restoration, and museums like Jhajjar’s would greatly benefit from such support.
A Race Against Time
The story of Swami Omananda Saraswati Museum is, in many ways, a race against time. Every year of neglect brings irreparable damage to artefacts that cannot be recreated or replaced. If preserved, this collection has the potential to transform our understanding of early Indian civilisation and provide vital clues to questions that have baffled historians for centuries. In the end, the fate of Jhajjar’s museum is not just about Haryana or even the Indus Valley Civilisation. It is about India’s commitment to its cultural memory. Will these treasures be safeguarded for future generations, or will they fade into obscurity, lost to indifference and neglect? The answer lies in whether the state and central governments act now—before it is too late.
(Ashok Kumar is the VC, Sports University of Haryana, 1989 batch retired IPS officer and author, and Kaushal Kishore is a social activist, journalist, and author of The Holy Ganga, follow on X @AshokKumar_IPS and @MrKKjha respectively)
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(Views expressed in this opinion piece are those of the authors)