🗝️The Story behind the Song BEHIND THE GREEN DOOR!

Some songs are written from imagination.

Others arrive from moments that quietly change you forever.

“Behind the Green Door in Cairo” was born from one of those moments.

For decades, we carried a dream in our heart: to travel to Cairo and visit the resting place of King Mohammad Reza Pahlavi. Not out of politics alone, but out of memory, emotion, history, longing, and the complicated feeling many Iranians around the world understand all too well - the feeling of carrying a homeland inside you, even when you are far away from it.

When we finally arrived in Cairo and stood before the Rifa’i Mosque, we felt overwhelmed. We had imagined this moment for years. We wanted to pay our respects. We wanted to pray. We wanted to speak the words that had stayed in our hearts for so long.

But when we arrived, the entrance to the resting place was closed due to maintenance.

Just a few steps away.

Separated only by a green-covered door.

It sounds like a small detail. Yet in that moment, it felt much bigger than a door. Standing there, unable to enter, something broke inside us. The experience suddenly became symbolic of something larger - the distance many Iranians feel from their homeland, from stability, from closure, from hope, from each other.

The closed door became a mirror.

That moment inspired the central line of the song:

“Between your history and our misery.”

The song is not only about one place or one person. It became a song about longing itself. About carrying memories across borders. About searching for connection. About wanting to feel at home again.

One line that became especially important to me while writing the song was:

“Maybe I just wanted to feel at home.”

Because in the end, I realized that this journey was never only about reaching a tomb. It was about searching for belonging.

Musically, I imagined the song as something intimate and cinematic at the same time — influenced by emotional 90s ballads, soft orchestral textures, and Persian instrumentation such as ney and daf. I wanted the production to feel like a prayer whispered into silence rather than a loud political statement.

The Farsi intro and outro were very important to me as well. They carry the private conversation that never happened:

“آمدم…

ولی نشد ببینمت…”

“I came…

but I couldn’t see you…”

In many ways, “Behind the Green Door in Cairo” became a song for everyone who has ever stood close to something they loved - yet still couldn’t reach it.

And despite the heartbreak within the song, there is still hope inside it too.

Hope through memory.

Hope through unity.

Hope that one day, all the closed doors may finally open again.