A virus is a tiny bundle of genetic material in a protein coat, and it hijacks our cell's machinery to make copies of itself until the cell bursts. But your textbook answer misses the real structure—it is also the curled leaf, the stunted plant, and the despair in a farmer's eyes. We see its replication not in a diagram, but in the way it spreads from one field to the next, faster than any of our prayers. I learned this not from a book, but from my okra crop last season, when a whitefly-borne virus turned the whole harvest to crumpled *abbulu*.
#exams#study
Jump in to reply — no account needed.