Shahana Rajani

Tracing its origins back over fifty million years, the date palm is a symbol of sustenance and resilience. This species not only thrives in harsh conditions, but also nourishes those around it. Pollinated by the wind, its roots reach deep into the earth to find water in arid lands. Perhaps for this reason, it is said that the tree has access to hidden knowledge, which it chose to reveal to Bibi Fatima, the beloved daughter of the Prophet Muhammad. Continuing this legacy, there is a Baloch tradition, passed down among women, of turning to the date palm for guidance when trying to locate those who were abducted and disappeared by the army. But these women are not the only ones who have sought to tap the power of the palm. The date tree also appears as the emblem of the Pakistan Rangers, a paramilitary unit tasked with enforcing law and order.

Shahana Rajani considers these competing claims in a cipher for the missing. Weathered hands twist palm leaves into a small, knotted bundle, which is then released on a floor mat to be read. There is a delicate interplay of tension and release, as the leaves give way to unseen pressures to take on a new form. Intersplicing this imagery are shots of Korangi, an industrial neighborhood of Karachi. The land was formerly a forest of mangroves and mud flats, where date palms flourished. Now these trees have been supplanted by military structures, branded with the Rangers’ emblem. And yet, despite the paramilitary’s efforts to exert its presence on the land, Rajani observes how the desert itself has answered with its own resistance, opting for ways of seeing and knowing beyond the data harvested by military surveillance.

Text: Kate Sutton