This illustration from the illustrated Akbarnama painted by Sarwan represents Akbar’s celebrated qamargah hunt near Lahore in 1567. The episode combines the spectacle of the imperial hunt with an incident of royal punishment. Akbar occupies the centre of the composition, mounted on horseback with his sword raised, while a vast number of animals are driven into the enclosed hunting ground. At the upper right, Hamid Bakkari is shown being punished for shooting an arrow at a court servant: his head has been shaved and he is forced to ride backwards on an ass. Sarwan’s principal strength in this painting lies in his drawing and the conception of movement. The hunting ground is filled with animals—deer, antelope, nilgai, boars, hares, jackals and other creatures—each rendered in distinctly varied poses. Instead of repeating a single conventional animal type, Sarwan turns their bodies in different directions: some leap forward, others twist their necks, fall, flee or struggle against the surrounding pressure. This produces a powerful sense of panic and continuous motion. The animals are particularly important to the visual structure because their overlapping bodies create successive waves of movement across the pictorial field. The human figures are also defined through expressive gestures and carefully differentiated actions. Hunters bend, run, hold weapons and control the animals, while Akbar’s upright posture and raised sword establish him as the visual and narrative centre. The contrast between his controlled movement and the frantic movements of the animals gives the composition its dramatic force. Sarwan therefore converts a crowded hunting episode into a coherent visual narrative through line, gesture, bodily movement and careful observation of animal anatomy. His drawing gives the scene both physical excitement and narrative clarity, while the episode of Hamid Bakkari’s punishment adds a second layer of imperial authority: Akbar is simultaneously represented as hunter, ruler and dispenser of justice.
To me, the painting is not simply a celebration of Akbar’s hunting prowess; it is a carefully constructed image of imperial power as control over movement, space, and bodies. The entire composition seems to move chaotically, animals flee in every direction, hunters pursue them, and figures struggle to contain the scene, yet Akbar remains remarkably composed at the centre. That contrast is significant: the emperor’s authority is represented not through stillness alone, but through his apparent ability to impose order on a world in motion.
The hunting ground therefore becomes a miniature political landscape. Animals are driven into an enclosed space, while hunters, servants, and the emperor occupy clearly differentiated positions within it. Even Hamid Bakkari’s punishment reinforces this hierarchy: the image makes imperial authority visible through the public display of discipline. What initially looks like a spectacular hunting scene thus becomes a visual language of sovereignty, hierarchy, and obedience. Sarwan’s dense composition captures the excitement of the hunt, but beneath that excitement is a sharper message: power is demonstrated when disorder can be contained and people can be made to occupy their assigned place.
Share
By: Pritha Ghosh
Miskina and Sarwan's painted Akbar and Hamid Bakari for the Akbarnama sometime between 1590 and 1595, and it manages to squeeze two completely different moments into one crowded scene. What you see is Akbar presiding over a big qamargha hunt, hunters and animals and attendants spread out across the landscape, while off to the side Hamid Bakari is being punished for his role in the events the chronicle describes. The whole composition is busy, packed with motion, but somehow Akbar never gets lost in it, he's raised up above everyone else and his appearance sets him apart, so your eye finds him almost instantly. What I find interesting is how Miskina takes a written imperial account and turns it into something you can basically read at a glance. The hunt shows Akbar surrounded by his people and the animals under his control, and the punishment scene sitting right alongside it reminds you just how much power he held over the people serving him. So this isn't just a painting of an emperor out hunting for sport. It's really a picture of an entire court system, where reward and punishment were just part of daily life, not separate from it. It's clearly a scene from centuries ago, but the amount of lively detail packed in, especially how carefully the animals are observed, makes it feel a lot more immediate than you'd expect from something this old.
