$ENA

On the train, the atmosphere is still calm.

Silence envelops the place, with no whispers to be heard, and the few passengers are either deep in sleep or absorbed in their phones.

Rarely does anything happen that pulls a person out of the whirlpool of thoughts and memories swirling in their head.

I was physically present in the train, but my thoughts took me far away, to the point where I didn't notice we had crossed the halfway mark, as if it was just a blink of an eye... and I noticed it.

The eye? I don't know why it has always been associated with two things for me:

The first... the father of "Ayyub," whom they called "the one-eyed" – and I even did that, if only in secret.

And the second... my only uncle, and his heated discussions with my grandfather about believing in the eye and envy and being affected by them.

My uncle, who left the village at a young age, made his first departure to the city of Oran when he was seventeen.

He worked hard there and established a decent life for himself away from family and friends.

His convictions remained steadfast: the countryside is the enemy of success, and its people are synonymous with envy.

During his few visits to the village to see his parents, he encountered me more than once, and the first thing he always said was:

– Don't get attached to the countryside.

And my grandfather would respond with the same insistence:

– What's wrong with the countryside?!