Residents of Tehran emerged on Wednesday to their first day in nearly 40 without the sound of explosions, as reported by the Financial Times. But the city they encountered was deeply scarred and unfamiliar.
On affluent Gandhi Street, a major hospital lay in ruins, burned and abandoned. In the old city near the historic Grand Bazaar, alleys were littered with shattered glass, while bombed-out buildings exposed furniture and household items to the open air. Along Sheikh Fazlollah Expressway, only the metal skeleton of the dome of Iran’s Space Research Center remained. Graffiti reading “Trump’s aid” appeared on nearby walls, reflecting anger and irony among residents.
The usually bustling city of 10 million people was subdued, its streets quiet and many shops closed. Although a two-week ceasefire between the US and Iran brought a pause in hostilities, few believed the conflict had truly ended.
Still, the truce offered a brief moment of relief. Residents expressed gratitude for the return of simple routines. “Nothing else matters to me anymore,” said Somayyeh, a 25-year-old university student. “The only thing that matters is that there’s no bombing and I can sleep peacefully at night.”
The ceasefire, which involved Iran reopening the Strait of Hormuz in exchange for a halt in US and Israeli strikes, quickly showed signs of strain. Iran maintained restrictions on oil tanker traffic while Israel intensified military operations in Lebanon targeting Hizbollah. Planned talks between the US and Iran also appeared uncertain, with Tehran warning it could withdraw from the agreement.
State media described the truce as fragile and temporary. Many residents shared that view. “The war isn’t over. It’s just a pause,” said Reza, a supermarket cashier, echoing widespread skepticism.
Authorities in Tehran remained on high alert. Despite official claims of victory, the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps warned it was ready to respond forcefully to any renewed attacks. Security forces were highly visible across the city, with riot police, checkpoints, and armed patrols stationed in key areas such as Revolution Square and central districts.
Near Sharif University of Technology, which was struck earlier in the week, groups gathered among the debris, expressing distrust toward the US and its allies. “Nothing has changed,” one woman said. “They can never be trusted.”
The heightened security presence also reflected ongoing tensions within the country. Tehran had recently been the site of a harsh crackdown on anti-government protests, and authorities continued to warn citizens against public demonstrations.
Despite the uncertainty, many residents attempted to carry on with daily life. Shopkeepers reopened businesses, including those selling generators, which were in high demand amid fears of power outages following threats to Iran’s energy infrastructure.
Some expressed frustration not only with foreign powers but also with their own government. “We, the people, are the ones who suffer,” said Hassan, a shopping mall security guard. “Whatever the outcome, they claim victory — but nothing really changes for us.”
For now, the ceasefire has brought a fragile calm to Tehran. But for many residents, it feels less like peace and more like a temporary pause in a conflict they expect will return.