Research & Notes

Big buildings get all the attention.

Palaces. Temples. Forts.

They’re dramatic, tall, and very photogenic.

But when I started reading more closely, it wasn’t the big things that taught me the most.

It was the small ones.

Things like beads.

Or tools.

Or toys.

Or drains (again, I know).

A bead doesn’t tell you who ruled a city.

But it tells you someone cared about decoration. Or trade. Or colour. Or maybe just looking nice.

A toy doesn’t announce a dynasty.

But it tells you children existed, played, and were given time to play.

And a drain?

It tells you someone planned for mess. Which feels very realistic.

What I like about small objects is that they don’t try to impress you.

They just exist. Quietly.

Historians can argue about kings and timelines forever.

But a broken pot, a seal, or a tool usually has only one job—to show how someone lived their day.

The more I read, the more I realise this:

history feels clearer when you stop looking for grand stories and start noticing ordinary things.

They may be small.

But they’re surprisingly loud.