A magical winged horse with a flaming tail is galloping on ethereal swirls of clouds or on quick waves of water. The elegant body of the steed is in the midst of a metamorphosis. It has grown the face of a woman with hair the hues of sunrise, and large multi-coloured feathery wings of an outlandish bird. This composite creature, Buraq, Arabic for ‘lightning’, was the speedy vehicle of Prophet Muhammad’s nocturnal journey from Mecca to Jerusalem and from thereon, to the seven heavens (isra and mi’raj).
Interspersed with verses from the Hadith (collections of Muhammad’s sayings), the rich, layered canvas is replete with figures and objects associated with movement –galloping horses, whirling dervishes, spinning globes and shifty clouds. The only visual trope which is steady is the star and the crescent moon.
Seema Kohli’s scroll painting references one of the most popular stories of Islamic tradition though the event finds only a brief fleeting mention in the Quran. But the enigmatic and composite Buraq never belonged to the scriptures; it owes its origin to folklore and poetry. It is one of finest examples of visual imagination overriding textual descriptions. Mythical, powerful and sexless, it is described as a “winged beast, white in colour, smaller than a mule and larger than an ass.”
As the story of Buraq journeyed through classical and modern ages and traversed increasingly complex realms of theology and ontology, Buraq acquired a feminine identity. In subsequent painting traditions, the more the figure of the Prophet was alluded through symbols and metaphorical representations such as light, flame or clouds to attest to his prophethood, the more Buraq came to acquire a complex and imaginative form as a signifier of the presence of the Prophet.
Over the years, the mythical half human and half quadrupled creature, has synthesised many visual traditions to acquire new iconographies. In Persian paintings, Buraq is depicted as having a tail and feet like a camel's, a rump like a horse's, and an emerald saddle, pearl reins, and turquoise stirrups. When the Indian subcontinent engaged with Buraq, it gave the horse a peacock’s tail while a peculiar Deccani painting turned Buraq into an angel faced, lion bodied and dragon tailed creature.
When Kohli reimagines the winged Buraq, she fuses the head of the horse with the female head, her hair becoming the mane of the steed. The presence of the Prophet is invoked through the calligraphy in the central body of the work, as well as on the margins and in the calligram of the globes and mountains. We can see elements from her back catalogue- the fierce female face with wild flying hair, swirling clouds, painstaking draughtsmanship and tantalising colours. These elements come together harmoniously to continue the long tradition of Buraq paintings yet it departs from the essential meaning of its form. Kohli lends the work a Sufi overtone with her mystical interpretation of Islam.
The paradisial journey of the Prophet, a topic of much debate, has been varyingly interpreted across cultures and schools of thoughts. Two viewpoints prevail, the first focusses on the physical journey that suspends boundaries of real and imagined; the second views it as an essentially intellectual journey, a voyage of the mind. The artist gives force to a third voice. For Kohli, the journey to the throne of God is above all a spiritual journey, an ascension to a higher self, the culmination of the process of self-actualisation. Although the work creates a dreamlike imagery with the flourish of luminous blue and silvery white, the Prophet’s journey is not a lucid dream, neither is it a journey to a real place. It is a voyage inward. The spiritual awakening witnessed in the flight to self-liberation is akin to the Hindu belief in the rise of the Kundalini. The union of the inner with the outer dissolves the dualism of the male (purusa) and the female principle (prakriti) and cleanses all self-doubt and breaks the ego. Buraq then, brought by the angel Gabriel, is the symbolic tool or the means to reach a higher plane of consciousness.
It is believed that Prophet Muhammad was not the first to ride the Buraq in the long line of Islamic prophets. He is also not the last. In the Lombok community of Indonesia, traditional ceremonial processions involve a palanquin outfitted with a decorative mount carved to resemble the magical horse Buraq. In wedding processions, the bride is carried on the Buraq and to mark the Prophet’s birthday, young boys astride the Buraq go around the villages.
It is this living and evolving social symbol of Buraq as a spiritual metaphor across cultures that Kohli explores in her work. More than an article of faith tied to a religion, it is an idea that pervades universal human experience. Buraq maybe physical, sensual and worldly, yet it is an abstraction, purely symptomatic of the human search of becoming.