In Tehran, my family’s story starts as spring begins to warm the city. Nowruz, the Persian New Year, is a tradition that has been a part of Iran’s culture for thousands of years. Nowruz occurs on the vernal equinox, signaling the end of winter and the start of spring. This celebration is deeply meaningful to me and many others, representing a time of renewal, resilience, and personal growth.
Nowruz promises new beginnings, not just for the earth but for every person who inhabits it. Growing up, the preparations for Nowruz were as much a part of the celebration as the day itself. My family, like many others, engaged in khaneh tekani, the thorough cleaning of our home. This was not just a physical cleansing but a symbolic shedding of the old year’s burdens, making room for the blessings and hope the new year would bring. On the eve of Nowruz, my heart would flutter with anticipation. The haft-seen table, meticulously laid out with seven items starting with the letter ‘S’ in Persian, each symbolizing a vital element of life, was the centerpiece of our home. Sprouting wheatgrass for rebirth, apples for beauty, and garlic for health, among others, told a story of nature’s gifts and our ancestors’ wisdom.
But my journey through Nowruz took a deeper, more personal turn one year, as Tehran was enveloped in a thick shroud of pollution. The city I loved, known for its vibrant springs and clear blue skies, was hidden under a blanket of smog. The air quality had reached dangerous levels, and the usual excitement for the upcoming Nowruz celebrations was overshadowed by concern and a sense of confinement. The thought of celebrating felt overshadowed by the immediate environmental crisis. During this challenging time, Nowruz became more than just a festivity; it transformed into a symbol of hope and resilience for me and my community. Despite the pollution, people across the city were preparing for Nowruz, cleaning their homes and setting up their haft-seen tables with determination. It was as if the act of preparing for the new year was an act of defiance against the environmental challenges we faced, a collective statement of our unwillingness to let it dampen our spirits.
Inspired by this collective resilience, I began to engage more actively in environmental advocacy. With the help of my mother, I translated climate articles to Farsi and shared themit with my family and relatives in Iran, to an effort to try and raise awareness for the climate crisis and to bring a small change in whatever way I could. The spirit of Nowruz, with its themes of renewal and rebirth, fueled these efforts, reminding me and others that we have the power to bring about positive change, even in the face of daunting challenges.
This experience taught me that Nowruz is more than a celebration of the new year. It’s a reminder of our capacity to face challenges, whether they’re environmental, personal, or societal, and to emerge stronger and more united. It’s a time for renewal, not just in nature, but in our efforts to care for our world and each other.
As I share this story, I hope to ignite in you the spirit of Nowruz—a belief in renewal, resilience, and the collective power of individuals to make a difference. Let’s remember that after the most challenging seasons, we can bring about a new beginning. Nowruz Mubarak.
