A dervish of the Qalandari order with a pet sheep
| Support Type: | Paper |
| Paint Type: | Mixed Media |
| Current Location: | Unknown (Currently in a Private Collection auctioned through Sotheby’s London) |
| Location History: | c. 1585–95: Produced at the Mughal court under Emperor Akbar. c. 1600–04: Included in the Salim Album (assembled by Prince Salim, later Emperor Jahangir) at Allahabad. Early 20th century: Georges Joseph Demotte (Paris & New York) Mid-20th century: Demotte Inc., New York, Mrs. Charles E. Slatkin, New York 1973: Acquired by Sven Gahlin. 2015: Sold at Sotheby’s, London (Sven Gahlin Collection, Lot 8) |
Among the painters Abu'l Fazl singled out in the A'in-i Akbari as having "attained fame," Mukund doesn't get nearly the attention that Daswant or Basawan do today which is a strange because his work has a quiet precision that those bolder painters rarely aimed for. He worked mainly in the later decades of Akbar's reign, contributing designs and finished paintings to several of the great imperial manuscript projects His finest surviving independent work is a small nim-qalam drawing (brush and ink, lightly touched with colour) showing a Qalandari dervish with his pet sheep.It was most certainly made for Akbar himself, whose fascination with ascetics and wandering holy men is well documented. The page later found its way into the Salim Album, put together by Prince Salim at Allahabad sometime around 1600–04. An inscription in elegant nasta'liq identifies the artist "This drawing is by Mukund Naqqash" beneath a Persian couplet that plays on the idea that a shaved head alone says nothing about real spiritual insight: a thousand fine points, it says, can matter more than a single strand of hair. The Qalandaris were an antinomian order — deliberately unconventional, itinerant, stripped of the usual trappings of religious respectability and Mukund's dervish fits that image: gaunt, slightly stooped, head closely shorn, dressed in rough or patched cloth, staff or horn in hand, with a sheep standing calmly at his side. The colour washes are sparing, just enough to give the figure life without disturbing the drawing's essentially linear elegance. There's no narrative incident here, just contemplative presence to be observed carefully. It's a small work, easy to miss next to the grander battle scenes and court portraits of the period, but it shows exactly what made Mukund distinctive: restraint used as a form of expression, and a line disciplined enough to carry both physical likeness and something like inward feeling.
