As a child, I never questioned the meaning of traditional Iranian festivals like Yalda night or Nowruz. To me, they were simply normal—and delightful. Honestly, they were hassle-free! My parents would prepare everything, and I would just enjoy the ride: basking in the warmth of the Korsi (a traditional low table with a heater underneath), munching on nuts and watermelon. I was like a fish living in water, unaware of the water’s value.
When I grew up and got married, it became my turn to participate in the preparations. Back in Iran, large corporations often gave employees gift packages of nuts and fruits for the occasion. We would take those goodies, pile into the car, and head to Leila’s parents’ house. Her siblings would arrive, everyone contributing something. We would feast, laugh, and the highlight of the night was always Leila reading our fortunes from the Divan of Hafez. Some years, we went to my father’s house, honoring the memory of my late mother, may she rest in peace.
The Meaning of Migration It wasn’t until we moved to Istanbul a few years ago that I truly understood the depth of this ceremony.
The first year, our friends were scattered across this massive city. Tehran is huge, but Istanbul is about five times its size! We lived on the Asian side, while most of our friends were on the European side, so a gathering just didn’t happen.
Fortunately, by the next year, most of our friends had moved to the Asian side. We celebrated our first Yalda abroad at the home of Leila’s primary school classmate, along with three other Iranian families. We enjoyed the pomegranates, watermelon, and a grand dinner, but the best part was seeing the children connect with their Iranian friends. That year, the kids spoke Persian together because their Turkish wasn’t strong yet.
Yalda in the Wild The following years got even more interesting. We took the celebration into nature, to the Aydos Forest within Istanbul. We lit a fire, set up the grill, and cooked Yusuf Köfte (famous Turkish meatballs) alongside fish caught by our friend Yaser. (Yaser used to be the CEO of an industrial company in Tehran, but here, to keep busy and embrace a new lifestyle, he has returned to his old passion: fishing).
The air was freezing, but the heat of the fire was delightful. We talked and laughed late into the night. However, I noticed something shifting: the children were speaking mostly Turkish to each other.
At first, it was a shock. Now, it has become my new normal. After all, they are going to live, study, work, and marry in this society. But…
The Roots Matter We realized we had to do something about their Persian. We couldn’t let their mother tongue fade away. (This is actually why I prepared the Turkish version of our A1 and A2 courses for my own son—resources I now share with other friends who want to teach Persian to their children).
Now, here in the diaspora, I feel the weight of this 5,000-year-old celebration more than ever. A festival older than Zoroastrianism, spanning a geography far wider than the borders of modern-day Iran. Yalda is an excuse to remember who we are.
Happy Yalda to you all.
A Journey Across Iran: How Different Cities Celebrate Yalda Night
Yalda isn’t just about watermelon; it’s an excuse for storytelling and togetherness. Did you know that this ancient festival has a unique flavor in every corner of Iran? Let’s take a quick tour:
- Gilan (Watermelon Rind Divination): In the lush north, watermelon isn’t just for eating! Young people wishing for marriage throw four pieces of watermelon rind behind their heads. If all four land with the green side up, their wish is destined to come true.
- Hamedan (The Dinner of Love): If there is a grudge between two families, the elders invite them over on Yalda night for a “Dinner of Love” (usually a traditional dish like sheep’s head and trotters or rice) to restore peace and friendship.
- Shiraz (The Pottery Jar): In the city of poetry, women drop personal tokens into a large pottery jar (Koluk). A child then pulls out one item, and a poem by Hafez is read as a fortune for the owner of that token.
- Isfahan (Uncle Chelleh): Old Isfahanis divided the season into “Female Chelleh” and “Uncle Chelleh.” They would spread their bedding out in the sun to welcome the winter spirits, believing the warmth of the Korsi on this night was the best feeling in the world.
- Qazvin (Grandma Frost): Local legends say that on this night, if “Grandma Frost” cries, it will rain; if the cotton from her quilt spills out, it will snow; and if her pearl necklace breaks, it will hail.
- The South (The Legend of Qarun): In Khuzestan and Hormozgan, Yalda tastes like the sea. People celebrate with seafood and southern music. A legend tells of “Qarun,” a woodcutter who visits the poor on this night, turning pieces of wood into gold to bring them wealth and blessings.
Make Your Yalda Special:
🎵 Music: Listen to the “Yalda Night” song by Babak Afra. (Fun fact: Babak and I were classmates in engineering school! Back then, he sang for his own soul, and suddenly we saw him become a famous and beloved singer). You can listen to a curated playlist of Yalda songs here: Yalda Music Collection on SurfIran
💌 Greeting Cards: Send a digital greeting card (with music) to your Iranian friends using this free service: Digital Yalda Cards
🎁 Our Gift to You: You are invited to the celebration of Persian language and literature. Use code:YALDA404 Get 15% OFF on all courses. (Valid until January 1st, 2026)
