Nowruz falls on the spring equinox, usually March 20th or 21st. It marks the beginning of spring and the start of the new year in the Persian calendar. For Afghans, it’s the most important celebration of the year - more significant than religious holidays, more widely observed than any other festival.

The word means “new day” in Persian. The celebration is ancient, predating Islam by thousands of years. It originated in Zoroastrian Persia and spread throughout Central Asia. Iran, Afghanistan, Tajikistan, parts of Pakistan, and Central Asian republics all celebrate Nowruz, each with their own variations.

In Afghanistan, Nowruz combines ancient pre-Islamic traditions, Islamic observances, and local customs that vary by region and ethnicity. It’s thoroughly Afghan while being part of a broader Persian cultural sphere.

Preparation

Nowruz preparation starts weeks in advance. The celebration itself is on the equinox, but the season extends before and after.

Cleaning: Like spring cleaning, Afghan homes get thoroughly cleaned before Nowruz. Every room, every corner. You’re symbolically clearing out the old year and making space for the new.

My mother would have us clean for days. Curtains washed, carpets beaten, windows scrubbed. Everything had to be spotless before the new year arrived.

New clothes: Everyone gets new clothes for Nowruz if possible. Again, it’s symbolic - starting the new year fresh.

Haft Mewa (Seven Fruits): In Afghanistan specifically, there’s a tradition of making haft mewa - a mixture of seven types of dried fruits and nuts soaked in water. Raisins, pistachios, walnuts, almonds, dried apricots, dried mulberries, and senjed (oleaster).

You prepare this on the eve of Nowruz and let it soak overnight. The next day, you drink the sweet water and eat the fruits. It’s believed to bring blessings for the new year.

The number seven has symbolic significance in Persian culture. Iran has haft-seen (seven items starting with ‘S’ in Persian). Afghanistan has haft mewa. Different traditions, same numerology.

The Day of Nowruz

Nowruz day itself has several components, mixing official celebrations, family gatherings, and specific traditions.

Morning: The day starts early, ideally at the exact moment of the equinox if you’re observant. Some families pray, some read from the Quran, some simply gather together.

The haft mewa is brought out. Everyone takes some of the soaked fruits and drinks the sweet water. It’s believed to bring health and prosperity.

Special foods: Certain foods are traditional for Nowruz. In Afghanistan, the main dishes are:

• Samanak: A sweet pudding made from wheat germ, cooked for hours until it caramelises. Making samanak is traditionally done by women together, singing and stirring the pot all night.
• Sabzi chalaw: Rice with spinach or other greens, often served with lamb or chicken.
• Fish: Some families eat fish on Nowruz, a tradition borrowed from Persian customs.

My mother made samanak every year. The house would smell sweet from the cooking wheat, and we’d have it for breakfast on Nowruz morning with fresh naan.

Visiting: Nowruz is a time for visiting family and friends. You go to elders first - grandparents, parents, uncles and aunts. You exchange greetings, eat together, give gifts to children.

The traditional Nowruz greeting is “Sal-e naw mobarak” (Happy New Year) or “Nowruz mobarak.”

In Kabul, people would visit multiple households throughout the day. Streets would be full of families in new clothes, carrying sweets to share.

Nowruz in Mazar-i-Sharif

The biggest Nowruz celebration in Afghanistan happens in Mazar-i-Sharif in northern Afghanistan. The city hosts a festival centered on the Blue Mosque shrine.

According to legend, a ceremony called Janda Bala (raising of the flag) marks the official start of Nowruz. A special pole is raised at the shrine, and thousands of people gather for the event.

The celebration includes music, dancing, poetry, food stalls, and general festivities. It’s a massive public celebration that draws people from across Afghanistan.

I’ve never been - my family is from Kabul, and traveling to Mazar for Nowruz wasn’t something we did. But it’s considered the most significant Nowruz gathering in the country.

The Nowruz Festival Period

Nowruz isn’t just one day. The celebration extends for about two weeks. The first day is the most important, but celebrations continue.

Sizdah Bedar (13th day): On the 13th day after Nowruz, there’s a tradition of going outdoors. The name means “getting rid of thirteen” - the number thirteen is considered unlucky, so you spend the day outside to avoid bad luck.

Families have picnics, go to parks, spend time in nature. In Kabul, the hills and parks would be packed with families. It’s a joyful, communal celebration of spring’s arrival.

In Afghanistan, this would coincide with the greening of the land after winter. The timing is perfect - by early April, spring has genuinely arrived, flowers are blooming, the landscape transforms.

Regional and Ethnic Variations

Afghanistan is diverse ethnically and regionally. Nowruz celebrations vary accordingly.

Tajiks: Persian-speaking Tajiks observe Nowruz most extensively. It’s a Persian cultural tradition, so it’s strongest in Tajik communities.

Hazaras: Also celebrate Nowruz enthusiastically, with some distinct Hazara customs mixed in.

Pashtuns: Traditionally less focused on Nowruz, which some conservative Pashtuns saw as un-Islamic or pre-Islamic. But many Pashtun families, especially in cities, celebrate it.

Uzbeks and Turkmen: These Turkic groups have their own new year traditions (Navruz) that blend with the Afghan Nowruz celebration.

The urban-rural divide also matters. Cities like Kabul and Herat had elaborate Nowruz celebrations. Rural areas observed it more quietly, though the agricultural timing (start of the planting season) made the spring equinox significant.

Nowruz and Islam

There’s tension between Nowruz’s pre-Islamic origins and Islamic religious authority. Conservative religious scholars have sometimes argued against celebrating Nowruz as un-Islamic.

The Taliban banned Nowruz celebrations during their first period in power (1996-2001), viewing it as contrary to Islamic practice. That ban was deeply unpopular, especially among non-Pashtun ethnic groups for whom Nowruz is culturally central.

Most Afghans don’t see a conflict. You can be a devout Muslim and celebrate Nowruz. The celebration has been Islamicised over centuries - prayers are incorporated, Quranic recitations are common, the celebration emphasises family and community values consistent with Islamic teaching.

It’s similar to Christmas in the West - clearly has pre-Christian origins, but has been thoroughly integrated into the culture for so long that the distinction doesn’t matter to most people.

Nowruz in the Afghan Diaspora

For Afghans living outside Afghanistan, Nowruz takes on additional significance. It’s a marker of Afghan identity, a way to maintain cultural continuity.

Here in Sydney, the Afghan community organises Nowruz celebrations every year. We rent a hall, cook traditional foods, play Afghan music, and gather together. It’s not the same as Nowruz in Kabul, but it serves the same function - connecting us to our culture and to each other.

My children look forward to these community Nowruz celebrations. They’ve never experienced Nowruz in Afghanistan, but they know it matters. They know the foods, the traditions, the meaning.

For diaspora communities, cultural celebrations become more important, not less. When you’re far from home, these traditions are how you maintain connection.

The Timing Significance

Nowruz falls on the spring equinox - the moment when day and night are equal length, when winter ends and spring begins. This timing isn’t arbitrary.

For agricultural societies, spring’s arrival meant survival. You made it through winter. The land would green again. You could plant crops. Life renews.

That’s why Nowruz celebrates renewal, fresh starts, cleaning out the old to make room for the new. It’s aligned with natural cycles in a way that arbitrary calendar-based celebrations aren’t.

Even in modern urban contexts where most people aren’t farmers, that connection to seasonal cycles resonates. Spring feels like new beginnings.

Preserving Nowruz Traditions

For Afghan children growing up in Australia, maintaining Nowruz traditions is a choice, not a default. They’re immersed in Australian culture where March 20th is just another day.

I make haft mewa. I cook samanak. I take my children to community Nowruz celebrations. I’m trying to pass on what my parents taught me.

But I also know their relationship to Nowruz will be different from mine. It’s not embedded in the society around them. They have to consciously participate, whereas in Afghanistan, Nowruz was everywhere and unavoidable.

That’s the diaspora experience. Culture requires active maintenance. What was once default becomes intentional.

What Nowruz Represents

Beyond the specific traditions, Nowruz represents something important: the continuation of Afghan culture despite everything that’s happened to Afghanistan.

The country has been through forty-plus years of war, foreign occupation, internal conflict, political upheaval. Millions have been displaced. Entire generations have grown up in refugee camps or foreign countries.

But Nowruz persists. Afghans in Kabul, in refugee camps in Pakistan, in London, in Los Angeles, in Sydney - all celebrating the spring equinox, making haft mewa, gathering with family.

That persistence matters. It says that Afghan culture isn’t defined by borders or governments. It’s carried by people, maintained through practices and traditions, passed from generation to generation.

Final Thoughts

Nowruz is weeks away as I write this. I’m already thinking about what I’ll cook, how we’ll celebrate, whether we’ll go to the community gathering or just observe it at home.

My children will put on new clothes if they cooperate. We’ll make haft mewa together. I’ll tell them about Nowruz in Kabul, about my grandmother’s samanak, about spring arriving in Afghanistan.

They might remember these things. They might pass them on to their own children. Or this might be the generation where these traditions fade in my family line.

I don’t know. But I keep doing it anyway, because Nowruz connects us to something larger than ourselves. To centuries of Afghan culture, to millions of Afghans worldwide celebrating the same day, to the simple human impulse to mark the changing seasons and celebrate survival and renewal.

Nowruz mobarak to everyone observing it, wherever you are.