Monday, April 18, 2022

THE STRANGE CASE OF TUT'ANKHAMUN’S MUMMY

 


Tut'ankhamun was the son of Akhenaten, the heretic pharaoh who abandoned ancient Egypt’s traditional polytheist religion in favor of a new monotheistic cult centered around the sun god Aten. The shift wasn’t embraced by all, and the cult collapsed after his death, with Tutankhamun (or his Vizier) reverting to the old tradition as soon as he ascended the throne around the age of nine. 

Tut'ankhamun was a sickly boy, suffering from scoliosis, a partially cleft palate, a flat right foot with a missing phalange, and a necrosis in the bones of his left foot, which must have been painful because he used a cane to walk – and there were 130 walking sticks in his tomb. He had also been repeatedly infected with the most severe strains of malaria, and must have suffered a hard fall, because one of his legs had an old compound fracture which had been tended to with balms. He died at 19, though we don’t quite know why. An initial theory was that he suffered a devastating injury – since his skull was crashed and some of his ribs were missing, but more recent testing showed that these injuries happened after his death, maybe caused by an unprofessional embalmer – or a professional one trying to make him look like Osiris, the god of the afterlife.


The last theory is supported by an unusual painting in Tut'ankhamun’s tomb depicting him as Osiris, plus a few embalming peculiarities like a dark liquid covering his body, which could have been an attempt to make him look completely black; an unusual arm posture which was often used to depict Osiris; a missing heart (and the scarab that would normally replace it), which recalls the story of Osiris being cut to pieces by his brother Seth who then buried his heart; a strange thoracic incision which could have been a honorary mark reinforcing the previous story; and, most peculiar of all, an erect member which stood upright at a 90-degree angle. No other mummies were embalmed with such an erection, and the most reasonable explanation seems to be that it was propped in that position as a way to evoke the fertility of Osiris. 


Why were they trying to turn King Tut into Osiris? The leading theory is that it was symbolic of the country’s return to the pre-Akhenaten cults, which makes sense, considering that in ancient Egypt the king was believed to be the god Horus during his reign, and Osiris after his death.

In a delicate time of religious turmoil, the embalmers may have  prepared the body in such a way so as to literally emphasize the divinity of the king and his identification with Osiris – hoping the transmutation would reclaim his family’s lost credentials.


The photo featured in this post was taken in 1922 by Howard Carter, the discoverer of the tomb and the man who first unraveled Tutankhamun’s  mummy. The member is clearly visible, in fact looking bigger than expected since the embalming salts usually shrunk it, though it was missing when the re-wrapped mummy was x-rayed in 1968. Many suspected it had been stolen, but it was found again in 2005 when the mummy underwent a CT scan, buried in the sand surrounding it together with a few missing bone fragments and a couple of digits.




-

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary: Where Water, Wings, and Time Meet Some places announce themselves with mountains or monuments. Bharatpur does not. It reveals itself slowly — in ripples of water, in the sudden lift of wings, in the quiet patience of a bird waiting for the right moment to strike. Located in eastern Rajasthan, Keoladeo Ghana National Park, popularly known as the Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary, is one of those rare landscapes where nature and history have grown together. It is not untouched wilderness, nor is it purely man-made. It exists in between — shaped by geography, altered by humans, and perfected by birds. A Land Shaped by Geography Before It Was Shaped by Humans Bharatpur lies at an ecological crossroads. To the west stretch the ancient Aravali ranges, among the oldest mountain systems in the world — worn down, rocky, dry, and quiet. To the east begin the fertile Gangetic plains, flatter and more water-abundant. Between these two regions lies a gentle depression in the land, where seasonal rivers like the Gambhir and Banganga once spread their monsoon waters. This region was never meant to hold deep water. Instead, it absorbed floods, released them slowly, and returned to grassland. That natural rhythm changed in the 18th century, when the rulers of Bharatpur constructed the Ajan Bund, an earthen dam built to protect nearby settlements from flooding. Unintentionally, a wetland was born. Water lingered longer than expected. Silt settled. Aquatic plants appeared. Fish followed. And soon after, birds began to arrive — first seasonally, then in vast numbers. From Royal Hunting Ground to Protected Sanctuary During the 19th and early 20th centuries, this wetland became a favored duck-shooting reserve for the Maharajas of Bharatpur and British officials. Ironically, this exclusive use prevented farming and urban expansion, allowing the habitat to survive while many other wetlands disappeared. The turning point came when Dr. Salim Ali, India’s pioneering ornithologist, recognized the extraordinary ecological value of the site. His advocacy transformed perceptions of the wetland — from a hunting ground to a sanctuary deserving protection. This led to a series of recognitions: Declared a Bird Sanctuary in 1976 Designated a Ramsar Wetland of International Importance Inscribed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1985 What makes Bharatpur unique is that it proves conservation does not always begin with untouched nature — sometimes it begins with correcting our relationship with altered landscapes. A Wetland Designed by Water, Perfected by Birds Keoladeo Ghana is a shallow wetland, rarely deeper than one or two meters. This single feature explains much of its biodiversity. Shallow wetlands warm quickly, grow food rapidly, and create a variety of micro-habitats: Open water for ducks and geese Mudflats for waders and sandpipers Marshes and reed beds for nesting birds Wooded patches for roosting and breeding colonies The sanctuary is a mosaic rather than a uniform lake, and birds occupy it with remarkable precision. Every species seems to know exactly where it belongs. The Arrival of the Migrants Each winter, Bharatpur becomes a global meeting point. Birds arrive from Siberia, Central Asia, Europe, and the Tibetan plateau, following the Central Asian Flyway. Some travel thousands of kilometers, crossing deserts, seas, and the towering Himalayas. Bar-headed geese, famous for flying at extreme altitudes, descend gracefully onto the water. Northern shovelers and teals form floating carpets across the marshes. Painted storks and Asian open-billed storks feed methodically in the shallows. The elegant Sarus crane, India’s tallest flying bird, performs slow, ritualistic dances that seem untouched by time. Once, the sanctuary welcomed the Siberian crane — tall, white, and fragile. Their disappearance from Bharatpur is a quiet tragedy, reminding us that even the most faithful migrants cannot survive when wetlands vanish along their journey. The Aravali Connection: Dry Hills Supporting Wet Wings Though Bharatpur is a wetland, its story cannot be told without the Aravali range. The Aravalis may appear barren, but they regulate climate, slow desert winds, and feed seasonal water systems. Birds adapted to dry forests and scrublands — larks, pipits, bushchats, raptors — depend on wetlands like Bharatpur during migration, breeding, or drought periods. Thus, Bharatpur functions as a refuge ecosystem, supported by the broader Aravali landscape. Wetland and woodland, water and stone — both are necessary for regional biodiversity. More Than Birds: The Invisible Web of Life While birds are the most visible residents, the sanctuary’s foundation lies beneath the water. Fish recycle nutrients and sustain higher predators. Amphibians and reptiles control insect populations. Wetland plants purify water, trap carbon, and stabilize soil. Even microorganisms play their role quietly, maintaining balance. This unseen life is what allows the spectacular bird diversity to exist. A Wetland That Needs Care, Not Neglect Unlike untouched forests, Bharatpur survives through active management. Water must be released at the right time. Invasive plants must be controlled. Seasonal rhythms must be respected. Climate change, upstream water diversion, and declining rainfall pose new challenges. The sanctuary today is a lesson in modern conservation — showing that protection alone is not enough. Understanding ecological processes is equally vital. Why Bharatpur Matters Today In a country where wetlands are rapidly disappearing, Bharatpur stands as proof that: Man-made wetlands can support rich biodiversity Landscape-level conservation is essential Migratory birds connect continents, not just countries Water is the most powerful driver of life in dry regions Leaving Bharatpur When you leave the sanctuary, it does not follow you loudly. There are no dramatic cliffs or roaring rivers to remember. Instead, there is a quiet realization — that life persists not through force, but through balance. Bharatpur teaches patience. It teaches listening. And above all, it teaches that when water is allowed to stay, life will always return.

  Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary : Where Water, Wings, and Time Meet Some places announce themselves with mountains or monuments. Bharatpur does n...