In the heart of Tehran’s starry nights — a city that even in sleep hums with life — begins a tale from A Thousand and One Nights
The storyteller is a girl from the old alleys of Naser Khosrow, who each night tells a new story to a dreaming city: tales of the splendid. palaces of Golestan and Niavaran, and the soothing serenity of Tochal and Darakeh
She speaks of the cobblestone paths of the Grand Bazaar, still echoing with the footsteps of ancient caravans, and of the gentle breeze of Shemiran carrying the scent of orange blossoms through the air.

Hers is the Tale of a Thousand and One Nights of Tehran — a city where history and nature weave together an endless legend. That night, a breeze drifted down from Darband, carrying with it the sound of water from the Alborz mountains — an ancient lullaby whispered into the city’s sleepless heart.

The storyteller sat upon the rooftop of an old house in Naser Khosrow, where the yellow streetlights shimmered like earthly stars scattered across the night. She spoke of the halls of Golestan Palace, of mirror mosaics that held a thousand years of memories in every fragment. Then, her tale wandered through time — to Bagh-e Ferdows, where the scent of damp earth and the tall plane trees still breathed the spirit of the Qajar era.

In her story, the Azadi Tower stood like a stone guardian at the gates of legend, while Milad Tower gleamed like a lantern of the future, catching the voice of the wind within its frame.
From Shemiran to Rey, every corner of Tehran came alive —
the call to prayer from Sepahsalar Mosque, the birdsong in Mellat Park, the quiet grace of Zahir-od-Dowleh Cemetery, and the pulse of life along Valiasr Street — that endless, green river binding the city together.

: And with a gentle smile, the storyteller whispered
“Tehran is a city whose story never ends; every alley is a chapter, and every night holds a thousand and one tales.”