Destinations Magazine

The Ghost of My Genes

By Kartix
The ghost of my genes
... the landscape had hills, not hills of the kind I'm used to seeing. Rocky hillocks with shrubbery sprinkled on them, all in contrast with blue skies with white clouds. It was not clear to me where the village ended and where the forest began. The fields were fallow since they were rain fed and it was not yet the season of the rain. All in all it was a landscape I've not been familiar for at least two decades. Two decades because I've traveled as a kid around kurnool where my grandfather used to stay and I vaguely remember the landscape being like this.
Yet, this landscape seemed familiar, with even a dash of nostalgia. I was wondering if my memory as a child was responsible. Or was it the ghost of my genes, since my ancestry is from Cudappah district, not very different from what I was seeing...

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