Handwoven Iranian Prayer Carpet 80x120 cm – Lace-Edged Muslim Worship Rug for Home & Devotion

There is a quiet magic in the morning light when it falls across a folded prayer carpet, waiting to be opened. As your fingers trace the soft, hand-knotted pile, you’re not just touching wool and silk—you’re brushing against centuries of whispered prayers, generations of devotion woven into every thread. The 80x120 cm Handwoven Iranian Prayer Carpet isn’t merely a rug; it’s a sacred space made portable, designed with intimate precision to cradle the body in prayer. This size—neither too wide nor too narrow—offers the perfect embrace for prostration, aligning seamlessly with the natural arc of worship. It creates a boundary where the world pauses, and the soul speaks.

Beneath the surface beauty of its design lies a language older than words. The central iwan—the arched gateway prominent in Persian architecture—invites the worshipper into a realm beyond the material, symbolizing the threshold between earth and the divine. Twisting vine motifs spiral outward like blessings without end, echoing the Quranic imagery of gardens beneath which rivers flow. Each knot, painstakingly tied by hand, contributes to a tapestry that doesn’t just adorn but communicates. With up to 150 knots per square inch, these carpets are born from thousands of hours of focused breath and steady hands. Light dances differently across such density, revealing subtle shifts in hue and shadow as the day unfolds—a living canvas of contemplation.

This rug travels far—from the sun-drenched looms of Shiraz, where artisans inherit skills from their grandparents, to your personal sanctuary at home. The wool is sourced from highland flocks grazing under open skies, cleaned, carded, and spun with care. Natural dyes extracted from pomegranate rinds, indigo plants, and walnut shells lend colors that age gracefully, deepening over time like well-lived memories. No machine can replicate the rhythm of a weaver’s hand, moving in meditative repetition for weeks on end. That slowness isn’t inefficiency—it’s reverence. Every imperfection tells a story; each variation whispers authenticity.

While crafted for salah, its presence extends beyond ritual. Imagine it grounding a reading nook bathed in afternoon light, or anchoring a minimalist living room with warmth and cultural depth. Paired with linen drapes and earthenware pottery, it becomes a centerpiece of intentional living. Parents have shared how their children gather on its edge each night, listening to stories not just of prophets, but of family roots and moral courage. Yoga practitioners use it as a mindful mat, drawn to its tactile richness and symbolic clarity. It adapts without losing meaning—because true sanctity isn’t confined to one function.

The fine lace border is more than ornamental—it’s ceremonial framing. Like a gilded margin in an illuminated manuscript, it delineates the holy from the mundane, creating a psychological threshold. When you step onto this rug, the lace reminds you: this space is set apart. Unlike factory-stitched edges that flatten underfoot, our hand-finished trim retains structure and softness, elevating both look and feel. Run your palm along it, and you’ll sense the difference—delicate yet durable, humble yet regal.

For Amina, a mother in Toronto, this carpet was more than décor. She gifted one to her daughter Layla before her first Ramadan fasting. “I wanted her to know,” she said, “that faith isn’t inherited through sermons alone—but through objects that hold love.” Whether given at adulthood, during Eid celebrations, or sent across oceans to a loved one abroad, this prayer rug becomes a vessel of continuity—a silent promise passed from one heart to another.

In a world of constant noise and motion, we all crave islands of peace. This 80x120 cm handwoven treasure offers exactly that: a micro-sanctuary. Unroll it beside your bed, in a quiet hallway, or even within a workspace drawer ready to unfold. Wherever you place it, you’re not just laying down a rug—you’re declaring a pause, inviting presence, building a bridge between the daily and the divine. Because holiness doesn’t demand grand cathedrals. Sometimes, it begins with eight square feet of wool, wisdom, and woven light.