It is the first day of Nowruz, the Persian New Year. I am wearing my favorite blue and embroidered dress and shawl. It’s raining softly outside. I leave home to go celebrate the Nowruz with my relatives and friends. As soon as I step onto the public road, I see the military base of the Taliban. There are six Taliban militants watching over the passing vehicles and people. Families are out in full force with boxes of cakes and cookies in their hands. Everyone is dressed in new and beautiful clothes that match their natural surroundings. The sight is so mesmerizing that I want to stand there and look at all the beauty all day long. “I wish it was Nowruz every day,” I whisper to myself.
As I get in the car, a sense of happiness and joy overcomes me. Inside the car is bustling with an ensemble of exquisitely dressed, smiling individuals. The aura of life’s fragrance and the shower of hope seem to have blessed this city. As I ponder, I realize that Nowruz is a remarkable opportunity to rejoice amidst suffocation.
Upon arriving at my destination, I disembark from the vehicle and proceed to the nearby grocery store. There, I purchase a kilogram of khajoor and another of cookies. With my treats in hand, I make my way to the host’s residence. Upon entering through the gate, the refreshing aroma of spring and vitality envelops me, emanating from every abode. The gates, stairs, and window panes resemble polished mirrors, reflecting the pristine surroundings. The room’s curtains, carpets, and bedding, including the mattress and pillows, all boast immaculate tidiness.
As I step into the reception room, I am greeted by the sight of a bustling crowd of twenty or thirty individuals. Before them lies a grand five-meter sufra (table) adorned with an array of delicacies, including Semanak, fish, cookies, tea, and chocolate. The air is filled with the warmth of their conversations as they intermittently savor these delectable treats.
Following the customary New Year greetings and congratulations and having a cup of tea, I go to the kitchen to visit the host’s daughters and daughters-in-law. There, I observe one of them rinsing the rice, while the second is engaged in preparing Qoorma. The third is focused on cleaning the vegetables, and the fourth is cooking bread in the gas oven. The fifth one is responsible for brewing the tea, in addition to washing the cherries and dishes. The intricately embroidered Hazargi dresses, hats, vests, and sleeve ends worn by the ladies, as well as their husbands and children, exhibit a unique elegance and pristine cleanliness that leaves me mesmerized.
Inquiring about their well-being on the auspicious occasion of New Year’s Day, I ask the host’s daughters and daughters-in-law about their preparations for the festivities. They respond by detailing their exhaustive routine of washing, cleaning, and organizing their home for the past month. They confess that they have barely had a moment to rest, as they have spent the entire winter sewing and embroidering new clothes for the New Year. Despite their weariness, they have to ensure that their guests have an enjoyable experience during the Nowroz days, as they cook and clean tirelessly throughout these days. In addition, whenever they plan to go out, they are responsible for ironing the entire family’s clothing, giving a bath to the children, as well as changing their attire. As the men of the household clamor for their delay, they finally manage to ready themselves to go out. Upon returning home, they face again the arduous task of cleaning the house and washing clothes.
In the end, it becomes apparent that the stunning and delightful embellishments of the homes, tables laden with an array of dishes and beverages, and neatly pressed clothes are the fruits of diligent and enduring hands. These are the hands that make festivities such as Eid magnificent and splendid, bearing the weight of significant responsibilities for their households and families. Yet, their tireless endeavors are often unrecognized or undervalued.
“New Year celebrations and other Eids are a male-dominated affair where women are left with household chores like washing and cleaning,” The elder daughter-in-law of the family told me. “Men consider such domestic responsibilities as solely the responsibility of women and think it is their duty to do it.”
During the evening visit to a friend’s house, I observed that she was busy embroidering a neckline with her sister. As I looked, I saw some men’s clothes with intricately embroidered necklines. Curious, I asked my friend where she found the patience to undertake such a task. “As a wife and mother, one’s patience and self-sacrifice doubles,” she responds while smiling. “My husband is abroad, and he is going to come home on Eid al-Fitr. Therefore, I am preparing clothes for myself, my husband, and our children so that we can wear them on Eid.”
