220+ Hilarious Farsi Jokes That Will Make You Laugh Out Loud

 Language Learning Lols

• Why did the Farsi student bring a ladder?
  To reach new “dasteh” (levels).

• I told my Persian teacher a joke.
  He said, “Khandé nadaram.”

• “You’re fluent?”
  Only in ordering kabob.

• My Farsi is 90% “Baleh,” 10% panicked smiling.

• I mix English and Farsi so well…
  Even Google Translate is confused.

• Pronouncing “gh” sounds = Instant throat workout.

• “Man mikham bere” sounds romantic — until they leave you.

• Learning Persian:
  Where even “noon” doesn’t mean lunch.

• My Farsi app keeps asking if I’m okay.

• “Salam!” — the universal “I’m trying.”

  Persian Foodie Puns

• My love language?
  Fesenjoon.

• You can’t buy happiness…
  But you can eat tahdig.

• You had me at sabzi polo.

• My diet?
  Ghormeh sabzi and vibes.

• Dizi is my comfort food and my personality.

• Kebab: Because “grill power” is real.

• I’m so Persian, I add saffron to my emotional baggage.

• Never trust someone who hates zereshk polo.

• Life’s too short to skip torshi.

• Call me koofteh — I’m stuffed with drama.

Family Function Funnies

• Persian moms don’t yell.
  They “arezo mikonand” your downfall.

• “Don’t tell Baba” = Code red.

• My aunt brought 3 trays of rice for 2 people.

• If your relatives didn’t gossip, was it even a mehmooni?

• You never leave a Persian party…
  You slowly escape.

• “Eshghe man!” = You’re about to get guilt-tripped.

• Persian dads be like:
  Silent until football starts.

• Grandma says she’s full — then eats a full second plate.

• “Taarof” is a full-contact sport.

• Our family tree is a grapevine of drama.

  Taarof Truths

• “No, you go first.”
  20 minutes later, no one’s eaten.

• I offered once.
  They said no — now I’m rude.

• Taarof:
  Politeness so aggressive, it’s dangerous.

• It’s not lying…
  It’s taarof.

• “Don’t worry, you don’t have to pay.”
  Yeah right.

• I offered to wash dishes.
  They actually said yes. TRAUMA.

• Taarof is just fencing… with compliments.

• “No, please — it’s nothing!”
  It was everything.

• I’ll taarof you into eternity.

• Real love is mutual taarof fatigue.

  Name Drop Jokes

• His name is Amir.
  And so is 90% of Tehran.

• If your name’s Ali, I probably know 12 of you.

• She’s a Leila.
  With an “eh” not an “ah.” Don’t mix them up.

• Why are all Persian girls named Sara, Negin, or Mahsa?

• “Kian” means king —
  But he can’t do laundry.

• Don’t confuse “Shirin” with “Shireen.”
  One’s sweet, the other’s sass.

• My name has 7 vowels and 3 silent letters.

• If your name isn’t shortened with a “-joon,” are you even Persian?

• Real flex: spelling your Farsi name on Starbucks cups.

• Mehdi? More like mayhem.

  Persian Proverb Puns

• “Zahre mar!”
  Sounds like a spell — hits like one, too.

• “Del be del rah dare” — unless you’re ghosted.

• “Ba yek del do del” —
  That’s me ordering kabob at 2 a.m.

• “Gav mesle man” —
  Mood when I forget my phone again.

• “Morgh be parash mireh” —
  Explains my ex perfectly.

• “Dastet dard nakoneh” —
  Said sarcastically 70% of the time.

• “Chashm!” = I will not do this but nicely.

• “Zood boro, dir biya” —
  Persian time translation: Never arrive.

• “Mige beh saresh asheghe” —
  Classic tale of a delusional king.

• “Delesh por-e dardé” —
  Or maybe just gas.

  Tehrangeles Treasures

• “I live in LA.”
  You mean Westwood? Say it louder.

• This coffee shop is 40% espresso, 60% Persians.

• Persian clubs in LA be like:
  Lamborghini out front, baba on FaceTime.

• My cousin said she’s “bi-farsi.”
  Girl, you live in Glendale.

• DJ plays Ebi?
  The party just started.

• Every LA Persian has 3 businesses and 5 cousins.

• Gold chains, cologne, and a dream.

• LA Persian accent:
  Somewhere between SoCal and Shiraz.

• She said she doesn’t eat rice.
  Her grandma just fainted.

• If your last name ends in -ian or -pour, welcome.

Evil Eye & Aesthetic Vibes

• Got haters?
  Time to bust out the nazar.

• Blue beads and unmatched energy.

• My evil eye bracelet has seen things…

• Nazar’s not just a vibe — it’s a lifestyle.

• I nazar-proofed my phone, car, and grandma.

• Persian moms:
  “Chashm khorde!” = Universal excuse.

• I wear nazar for style and survival.

• Nazar emoji is my most used.

• You complimented me?
  Let me immediately spit three times.

• Don’t worry, I saged the drama out.

Nowruz Knockouts

• Cleaning for Nowruz?
  More like emotional exorcism.

• My Haft-Seen was rated E for extra.

• Goldfish: the real MVP of Nowruz.

• If I see one more sprouted lentil…

• Persian New Year:
  Where rice is both dinner and decoration.

• You haven’t Nowruzed until you’ve argued during “Eid-eh shoma mobarak.”

• “New year, new me.”
  Still can’t pronounce half the Haft-Seen items.

• If you didn’t clean the chandelier, did you even Nowruz?

• Our spring cleaning is winter-level trauma.

• Haft-Seen: sponsored by Pinterest fails.

  Love & Farsi Flirtation

• He called me “azizam.”
  I melted.

• “Ghorboonet beram” hits harder than “I love you.”

• My crush speaks Persian…
  I’m doomed.

• “To khob hasti?” = emotionally checking in, Persian edition.

• “Delam barat tang shodeh” —
  I’m fine. Everything’s fine.

• Farsi love notes are 40% poetry, 60% tears.

• He texted “khoshgelam” —
  My ancestors blushed.

• Real love is sharing your noon barbari.

• Don’t call me joonam unless you mean it.

• My red flag?
  He doesn’t speak Persian, but calls me “jan.”

Persian Self-Care & Sass

• Persian skincare secret?
  Rosewater, and never aging emotionally.

• I don’t do yoga.
  I just lay on a Persian rug and cry.

• My mom said drink golab.
  I said, “I’ll manifest instead.”

• Bubble bath?
  More like chai bath.

• I exfoliate with ghorme sabzi steam.

• Meditation in Persian = dramatic sighing.

• My mental health plan:
  Tea. Pistachios. Avoiding relatives.

• The only face mask I trust is from my maman joon.

• I said I’m healing…
  But I just bought more saffron.

• Spa day?
  No, I just escaped a family function.

  Persian Shopping Problems

• I went to the bazaar for “one thing.”
  Now I own four carpets and a watermelon.

• Do I need it? No.
  But was it Persian? Yes.

• I bargain like I’m funding a revolution.

• Shopping with Persian moms = survival training.

• “Bezar emtehan konam” = never leaving empty-handed.

• Maman tried to taarof with Amazon.

• This isn’t hoarding.
  It’s culturally curated clutter.

• No bag?
  Wrap it in newspaper, baba.

• I asked the price.
  Now we’re best friends with the vendor.

• All I wanted was bread.
  Now I have a chandelier.

Persian TV & Movie Meltdown

• If someone doesn’t cry, is it even a Persian drama?

• Every show has one character named Niloofar.

• Turkish dramas dubbed in Farsi = peak entertainment.

• “Baba, it’s a movie!”
  Still yells at the TV.

• Iranian cinema:
  Where everyone stares and nothing happens… beautifully.

• This plot has more twists than reshteh polo.

• Why are they whispering so dramatically?

• Mom: “Just one episode.”
  Seven hours later…

• “Dokhtar-e bozorg” has entered her villain arc.

• If it’s black and white with slow violins, it’s award-winning.

  Wedding Zingers (Aroosi Edition)

• Persian weddings:
  Where glitter goes to die.

• This wedding had 4 photographers, 3 DJs, and one confused groom.

• I didn’t catch the bouquet.
  But I caught feelings.

• I danced so much, my koofteh fell apart.

• “Simple wedding” = 500 guests, 5 outfit changes.

• Someone’s grandma is lowkey DJ-ing the event.

• We clapped so much, I now have calluses.

• Every Persian wedding ends with baghali polo and chismeh.

• Bride said “no drama.”
  Relatives said: challenge accepted.

• I didn’t come for the wedding.
  I came for the rice crust.

  Persian Time Problems

• 7pm means 9:30pm, minimum.

• “We’re on the way” =
  Still picking outfits.

• Time isn’t linear —
  It’s Persian.

• “Bezan bereem” — 30 minutes later, still drinking tea.

• RSVP? We show up when we feel like it.

• Punctuality?
  Never heard of her.

• Persian time: when “right now” includes a nap.

• Maman said 10 more minutes…
  That was 3 episodes ago.

• Arrived late but still early — Persian paradox.

• We don’t tell time.
  We vibe it.

School Daze & Academic Shade

• Persian parents:
  “99? Where’s the other point?”

• Doctor. Engineer. Disappointment. Pick one.

• Math homework?
  Handled by dad’s trauma.

• I got an A.
  They asked why it wasn’t an A+.

• My report card was treated like breaking news.

• Career day was just one option: “Doctor.”

• I studied abroad.
  They still said: not enough.

• I passed the exam.
  Still got lectured.

• Art major?
  More like heart failure.

• “Get your PhD, THEN talk.”

  Poetic & Overly Dramatic Vibes

• I didn’t fall in love.
  I slipped on Hafez.

• Rumi said “go find yourself” —
  So I bought a Persian rug and cried.

• Every Persian poem starts with heartbreak and ends with pistachios.

• My texts sound like a ghazal in crisis.

• I quote Hafez like I know him.

• You haven’t been ghosted till it’s in Farsi poetry.

• Her vibe?
  Tragic Persian love song.

• I sent him a verse.
  He replied “k.”

• Love in Farsi hits like tea: slow burn, lots of sugar.

• I’m 20% poetry, 80% emotional damage.

  Persian Kids Growing Up

• Childhood punishment = no satellite TV.

• Getting hit with a slipper was a rite of passage.

• My lullabies were political debates and Ebi songs.

• We played tag… in carpeted rooms.

• Snacks?
  Lavashak and existential dread.

• I couldn’t blink near a vase without getting yelled at.

• “Don’t sit on the good couch!”
  Why do we even have it?

• I sneezed.
  Grandma made me wear three sweaters.

• Homework?
  Done between relatives visiting and taarofing.

• Going out meant 3 hours of “saying goodbye.”

  Traveling While Persian

• Airport security loves our rice cookers.

• “Only two bags.”
  Shows up with 17 suitcases.

• Yes, that’s saffron in my carry-on.

• Persian travel prep:
  20% clothes, 80% gifts.

• My mom packs like we’re moving countries.

• “We don’t need a tour guide. I have cousins.”

• Traveling light?
  Impossible.

• I brought torshi to France.
  No regrets.

• My luggage smells like kabob and loyalty.

• First stop in any country:
  Find chai.

Global Persian Identity

• Iranian in America = constantly explaining Nowruz.

• “Where are you from?”
  It’s complicated.

• I’m Persian, not the cat — but thank you.

• I say “salaam” and people ask if I can belly dance.

• My name isn’t hard —
  You’re just lazy.

• Being Persian means explaining tahdig to everyone. Twice.

• I’m not spicy.
  I’m saffron-infused.

• Dual identity:
  Cousin weddings and Whole Foods.

• I speak English…
  But my soul sounds like Googoosh.

• Half of me is in L.A., the other half is still in Shiraz.