TEL AVIV, Israel (AP) — The Purim holiday is usually marked with boisterous street parades and costume parties to celebrate the Jewish victory over an ancient Persian ruler. This year, the celebrations moved into fortified bomb shelters as the country wages war against Iran’s modern-day leaders.
In Tel Aviv on Monday, people of all ages wearing sequined suits, bunny ears, pirate costumes and peacock feathers streamed into a mall’s underground parking lot that also functions as a bomb shelter for the traditional reading of the Purim story followed by a live band with dancing.
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Jewish men read the Scroll of Esther as they celebrate the holiday of Purim in an underground parking garage as a precaution against possible Iranian missile attacks, in Tel Aviv, Israel, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Ohad Zwigenberg)
People, some wearing costumes, celebrate the Jewish holiday of Purim in an underground metro station used as a shelter against possible Iranian missile attacks, in Ramat Gan, Israel, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Oded Balilty)
A girl wears a decorative dress during the Jewish festival of Purim inside a bomb shelter synagogue in Hadera, Israel, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Ariel Schalit)
Jewish men and children, some dressed in costumes, read the Scroll of Esther as they celebrate the holiday of Purim in an underground parking garage as a precaution against possible Iranian missile attacks, in Tel Aviv, Israel, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Ohad Zwigenberg)
People, some wearing costumes, celebrate the Jewish holiday of Purim in an underground metro station used as a shelter against possible Iranian missile attacks, in Ramat Gan, Israel, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Oded Balilty)
“It’s all about choosing happiness, choosing to be joyful, no matter what else is going on,” said Mariel Margulis, a Tel Aviv resident who had set up a tent in the parking garage and lived there for the past few days with her husband and 6-month old son. They dressed up as people having a bath, complete with bath robes, and their son, Amichai, as a rubber ducky, and created a bathtub play area for him next to their tent.
The story of Purim, told in the Book of Esther, follows Haman, an adviser to King Ahashverosh, as he plans to exterminate the Jews of the kingdom. The plan is foiled by Queen Esther and her cousin Mordechai. The story takes place in Shushan, Persia, in what is modern-day Iran.
“It feels biblical in proportions, what’s happening right now, and we’re doing the little bit we can, staying calm, staying joyful,” said Mariel. Nearby, Amichai slept through the loud “boos” from the crowd to drown out the name of Haman, the villain of the story, during a reading from the Book of Esther.
“It’s like the same plot of Purim with a different cast,” said Daniel Margulis, Mariel’s husband.
Purim, a holiday beloved by both religious and secular Jews, takes place in most of the Jewish world starting on Monday night. The holiday starts a day later in ancient walled cities, including Jerusalem.
In quiet times, families in colorful costumes throng downtown stretches, children eat copious amounts of traditional triangle cookies. It’s customary to dress up in costumes and drink large amounts of alcohol.
In Jerusalem, musicians set up on balconies overlooking the main drag and street parties in the stone alleys stretch into the evening.
Massive parties were planned this year after a two-year break. Many cities had canceled or scaled down their Purim celebrations for the past two years due to the Israel-Hamas war.
But celebrations were once again disrupted by war, after Israel and the U.S. launched an attack against Iran on Saturday
“We came because the kids didn’t want to miss out on Purim, they were really excited to get dressed up,” said Elysa Rapoport, a Tel Aviv resident who works in investments. Her daughters dressed up as Barbie Cowgirl and Rumi from K-pop Demon Hunters.
With most Purim celebrations canceled, the family planned their walk to the Purim event to hopscotch between easy access to shelters. Iranian missiles have sent Israelis scurrying for shelters multiple times a day and night.
“This just feels surreal,” Rapoport said, looking over the celebrations, as hundreds of people gathered and danced under the parking lot's fluorescent lights. Nearby, people and their dogs who had moved into the shelter for the duration of the war lounged on air mattresses, scrolling through their phones.
“It’s not the most optimal conditions, we’re used to our synagogue, but we’re here together with all of the nation of Israel,” said Gabi Grinshtain, a 39-year-old environmental consultant. “These are important days, and the setting is less important.”
Jewish men read the Scroll of Esther as they celebrate the holiday of Purim in an underground parking garage as a precaution against possible Iranian missile attacks, in Tel Aviv, Israel, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Ohad Zwigenberg)
People, some wearing costumes, celebrate the Jewish holiday of Purim in an underground metro station used as a shelter against possible Iranian missile attacks, in Ramat Gan, Israel, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Oded Balilty)
A girl wears a decorative dress during the Jewish festival of Purim inside a bomb shelter synagogue in Hadera, Israel, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Ariel Schalit)
Jewish men and children, some dressed in costumes, read the Scroll of Esther as they celebrate the holiday of Purim in an underground parking garage as a precaution against possible Iranian missile attacks, in Tel Aviv, Israel, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Ohad Zwigenberg)
People, some wearing costumes, celebrate the Jewish holiday of Purim in an underground metro station used as a shelter against possible Iranian missile attacks, in Ramat Gan, Israel, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Oded Balilty)
LOS ANGELES (AP) — Many in the Iranian American diaspora spent several days glued to their televisions, watching the news of U.S. and Israeli bombs falling on Iran, some clinging to hope it might bring a brighter future to their homeland but terrified their relatives will suffer in a new Middle East war with no certain end.
Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who ruled Iran for decades while violently crushing dissent, was killed early in the attack. In the United States, many celebrated, some popped Champagne, some downed shots of tequila, some took to the streets to cheer the toppling of a ruler they considered a tyrant.
“We are happy, we are happy that he is gone and he can’t kill our innocent people anymore,” said Ava Farhadi, 33, an electrical engineer in Indiana. In January, Farhadi’s family participated in protests against their government, which were met with a brutal crackdown. While her immediate family was unhurt, Farhadi said, friends and close loved ones were among the thousands killed when security forces opened fire on peaceful protesters.
Many said they are worried for their families still there and for what the future holds.
Roozbeh Farahanipour, a Los Angeles restaurant owner who was jailed and tortured following the 1999 student protests in Iran, said he's felt a swirl of emotions.
He celebrated when he heard Khamenei was killed in the initial U.S. and Israeli strikes. “I open a bottle of Champagne and drink it up,” he said. “That was a happy moment but we are looking at what happens next.”
Deaths have mounted as the bombardment continued into Monday, claiming U.S. service members and Iran civilians. Farahanipour said he mourns for them.
Between 400,000 and 620,000 people of Iranian ancestry live in the U.S., according to the University of California Los Angeles, the vast majority of them in California. Farahanipour's restaurant is in a part of Los Angeles nicknamed Tehrangeles — the heart of the Iranian diaspora in the U.S. — where Iranian flags hang outside shops selling everything from books to rugs.
Nearby, Todd Khodadadi, the 47-year-old owner of Tochal Market, said he and his family lived under the regime in Iran until they fled more than two decades ago and started over in the U.S.
Khodadadi said he’s been glued to news apps and group chats with friends in Iran. Even as bombs rained down, the weekend’s violence still doesn’t compare to the scale and severity of what Iranians have suffered for years on end, he said, surrounded in his store by boxes of date-filled pastries and rice cookies affixed with stickers reading “Free Iran.”
“The people in Iran, they live in hell,” he said. “We want democracy, we don’t want one person sitting in one chair for decades and decades and control everything.”
It has been difficult for many to communicate with their loved ones still in their homeland. Phone and internet connections aren’t reliable.
“It’s eerie, it’s very eerie to see these terrible scenes of Iranians crying over dead relatives and their destroyed homes,” said Shahed Ghoreishi, 34, a foreign policy analyst whose parents fled Iran and still has many relatives there. “And you’re like, wait, does my family live on that street? How close are they to that bomb? Then you try to geolocate where your family lives and where the bombs are dropping on TV at the same time.”
His mother told him she hasn’t slept because she can’t reach her sister, who recently had back surgery. The Iranian people were already suffering shortages of food and medicine because of strict sanctions imposed on the country and Ghoreishi worries not only that they could be killed by the bombardment, but also that they won’t be able to access life-sustaining necessities as the war drags on.
Ghoreishi, who was fired from his role at the U.S. State Department last year after some questioned his loyalty to the administration's policies in the Middle East, said he doesn’t see how this will end with lasting change for the Iranian people.
“I don’t see a clear strategy and I see a lot of violence, and those two things make me pessimistic for this moment,” he said.
He hopes that he’s wrong. So does Mahdis Keshavarz, 49, who fled Iran as a child and works now in social justice advocacy in Los Angeles.
“My people deserve to be happy, and I understand fully why they would be happy and hopeful for a tyrant to be out of commission,” she said. “We have dreamed of the day where we would be rid of them so that we can have the homeland and the peace we all deserve.”
Keshavarz still has many loved ones in Iran, and says she’s worried “day and night” for them. In war, she said, ordinary people always pay the highest price.
To her, this moment recalls the region’s long history of intractable wars that cost hundreds of thousands of lives but failed to deliver on promises of democratic stability, sometimes creating power vacuums filled by rulers just as bad or worse.
She cannot see now how this time will be any different.
“This is where I hope I’m wrong,” she said. “I hope that a month from now, or two weeks from now, that joy remains because there is something positive that comes out of this. Because at the moment I don’t see it.”
Many said they hope that the Trump administration has a more solid plan for a transition than is clear right now.
Roya Boroumand’s father helped form the National Movement of the Iranian Resistance, one of the first opposition parties fighting for democracy. He was stabbed to death in the lobby of his Paris apartment by agents of the Islamic Republic in 1991. Boroumand said that those celebrating should remember the sacrifices that people of previous generations have made to advance human rights in the country — and recognize how much work is required to realize those rights now that the regime has been weakened.
“You can’t just bomb your way out of a totalitarian regime,” said Boroumand, who co-founded the Abdorrahman Boroumand Foundation in 2001 to promote human rights in Iran. She emphasized that any military operation needs to be supplemented by significant structural and economic transformation led by Iranian civilians.
“This is the time to make sure what needs to happen happens so that what we have endured for the past 45-60 years doesn’t happen again,” she said.
Some others said they saw no other way to forge a better path forward than to cut off the regime at its head.
“In Iran we cannot accept that murderers can control the country. When they start to kill people just because of their voices, there is no choice but to start a war,” said Soheila Boojari, 47, a native of Iran and engineer in suburban Detroit, who took to the streets this weekend to celebrate the strikes. “I don’t want a war for any people. I am very worried about my family there. But who can help us?”
At Colbeh, a Persian restaurant in Great Neck, New York, staff downed shots of tequila Saturday night to celebrate the attacks. Restaurant partner Pejman Touby said he walked over the mountains at age 12 to escape Iran in 1984.
“A lot of our employees came out of Iran the same way. We left everything we had there,” Touby, 53, said. “We had shots in honor of the U.S. government, Israel government for standing on their word and doing whatever they can to get rid of this evil regime.”
Many said they are hopeful that maybe, soon, they can return to Iran to see the family they left behind decades ago.
Gita Zarnegar, a 63-year-old psychoanalyst, said she and her Jewish family left Iran in 1979 when the regime took over.
“I’m elated that my country of origin is going to be free from 47 years of enslavement to a tyrannical and cruel regime that took away people’s freedom and liberty,” she said.
She will visit as soon as it is safe enough, she said.
“I will be the first person on that plane.”
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Associated Press reporter Krysta Fauria contributed from Los Angeles. Galofaro reported from Louisville, Kentucky, Riddle from New York and White from Detroit.
A giant The Lion and Sun flag, the pre-revolution Iranian national flag, decorates the exterior of Damoka rug store along Westwood Boulevard, in the Westwood neighborhood of Los Angeles, at the heart of the largest Iranian diaspora community in the United States, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Damian Dovarganes)
Customers talk inside the Taste of Tehran restaurant at the area known Little Tehran" or "Tehrangeles," the heart of the largest Iranian diaspora community in the United States, in Los Angeles, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Damian Dovarganes)
The area commonly known as "Little Tehran" or "Tehrangeles" is seen at the Westwood Court along Westwood Boulevard, the heart of the largest Iranian diaspora community in the United States, in Los Angeles, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Damian Dovarganes)
Farid, who gave only his first name, from Iran, works at Jordan Market, a Middle Eastern and Persian market along Westwood Boulevard, in the Westwood neighborhood of Los Angeles, pauses next to The Lion and Sun flags, the pre-revolution Iranian national flag, at the heart of the largest Iranian diaspora community in the United States, Monday, March 2, 2026. (AP Photo/Damian Dovarganes)
Demonstrators gather in reaction to the U.S. and Israeli strikes on Iran on Saturday, Feb. 28, 2026, in Los Angeles. (AP Photo/Caroline Brehman)
A demonstrator carries an Iranian flag during a march in reaction to the U.S. and Israeli strikes on Iran on Saturday, Feb. 28, 2026, in Los Angeles. (AP Photo/Caroline Brehman)
People chat slogans during a demonstration in support of the U.S. and Israeli strikes on Iran on Sunday, March 1, 2026, in Los Angeles. (AP Photo/Jill Connelly)
