Where Persian Poetry Meets Pop: Rubina, Unfiltered and Unapologetic

Interview By: Niloufar Asefi

Rubina is a 21-year-old Persian-Canadian singer, producer, and visual artist blending modern pop and electronic sounds with the richness of her Iranian roots. She creates bold, cinematic music that explores identity and emotion, fusing Farsi lyrics, Persian poetry, and traditional instruments with dark pop production. Her single “Dangerous” was featured on Apple Music’s The Best New Music and Spotify’s Fresh Finds Pop, and her jewellery line Wish Bravely appeared on Dubai Mall’s iconic billboard. A storyteller and creator, Rubina is redefining borders in sound and culture.

How did your early upbringing in Iran and subsequent move abroad influence your musical identity and the themes you explore in your songs?

I was raised on Persian poetry, then thrown into the chaos and color of the West. Two sets of roots, growing in the same soul. My music is just them speaking to each other. I spent years questioning where I belonged (from living in different countries and meeting new cultures) until I realized home is not a place. It is a sound. And when you fuse worlds together, the borders disappear. That is when the music becomes one, and so do we…

Your music often bridges Iranian and Western styles—what does that fusion mean to you, and how do you bring it to life creatively?

It is about being a bridge, not just between places, but between hearts. I do not force cultures to blend together for the sake of it; I let them communicate with each other organically. It is not about exoticizing Iran; it is about saying, “this is just as natural to me as breathing.” Every culture has its own sound, but I do not hear borders; I hear Earth. We belong to it. And it is starving for love, kindness, and honesty. My music is just a reminder of that pulse we all share, of what it feels like to be human again.

Can you share a story behind one of your songs—perhaps “Parsi” or “Tehran”—that illustrates a turning point or artistic evolution?

Let’s talk about Parsi, the first song I ever produced myself. That song was me turning inward, finding a piece of my childhood that was untouched by the noise of the world. I sampled my favorite childhood series, Madreseye Mooshha, and wove in the Ferdowsi verse my grandfather used to hum to me when I was five. I realized that if I could reach that pure part of myself, others could find their own way there too. It was not about being a hero; it was about being a mirror. And once I found that reflection in myself, the music just came to me. It was a turning point because it showed me that my voice could be a space where others find their own stories.

As a female artist of Iranian heritage, your voice addresses themes of identity and self-expression—what message do you hope to convey through your music?

I am not here to tell you who to be. I am here to remind you that you already are. Music is the one language we all understand, even in silence. It has no passport, no gender, no walls, only a pulse. If you are reading this, you have felt it before, that moment when a song finds you and you can not explain why it feels like it knows you. That is the space I want to live in. Where stories and scars aren’t things we hide, but things we share. I am not adding noise to the world. I’m building a place where, for a few minutes, we remember what it means to be human; together.

Looking ahead, what new directions or projects are you most excited about, and how do they reflect your expanding vision?

The future will be stranger, more beautiful and intimate. I want to chase the sounds no one has heard; melodies from villages the world forgot, breathing through modern music. To give a voice to what has been silent, to make the unseen the heartbeat. Just like how I felt for years living in a place where I was forced to be quiet and hidden. I am the unseen heartbeat, and I want to bring it to life louder than ever.