It is raining forwards on social media and on WhatsApp. There is the inane, the malicious, the hilarious, the flatulent, the pretentious, the outright dumb ones, the bare-faced lies and so on.

One forward, however, stood out. A student asked anthropologist Margaret Mead: What is the first sign of civilisation in a culture? Being a student of history myself, I started second-guessing Mead’s probable answer. Pottery? Grindstones? Jewellery? Art? Tools? Mead’s answer: A 15,000-year-old femur with clear signs of a healed fracture.

The strongest bone in the human body, the femur links knee to hip. A former college football player, I was a bit glum when hip injuries plagued me a few years ago. Sound medical care put me back on my feet. In the ancient world, no animal survived a broken femur. If you could not run, you were eaten. So, a broken femur that had healed simply meant that someone had cared for the injured person. Cared enough to carry him to safety, to feed him and to keep him warm through the six weeks that took the bone to knit and heal. Caring, says Mead, is the first indication of a civilisation.

We are back in a primitive landscape, hiding from an invisible enemy who could be anywhere. I feel that our social, medical and economic landscape would have changed by the end of this ordeal. We will have evolved into a new society, a society which is fully aware that only mutual care can ensure our survival and progress as a nation.

Despite the headwinds, THE WEEK has refused to go out of print completely. There is more to it than maintaining an unbroken print run since December 1982. We support an ecosystem countrywide. An ecosystem that involves people who are visible and invisible to you, dear reader. But, from where I sit, everyone is visible and dear to my heart. The ecosystem begins with our readers and includes our editors, reporters, photojournalists, artists, marketing and circulation staff, advertisers, the press staff, couriers, truckers who bring in the newsprint and ink, engineers, our friends in the Railways, airlines and India Post, hawkers, shop-keepers, delivery personnel and many others, down to a young man who tops up one of our delivery vans in a remote petrol bunk.

Every rupee that you spend on THE WEEK goes to these fathers, brothers, sons, sisters and mothers across India. This is why THE WEEK refuses to stop printing, though the print order has thinned because of disrupted distribution channels. We want to assure you that we are here for you, and we believe, as always, that you will be there for us.

In the past weeks we have covered the Covid-19 pandemic extensively, exploring clinical, economic, health care and educational angles. Last week, Union Health Minister Dr Harsh Vardhan spoke to us exclusively, reassuring all Indians about our preparedness and, in his own gentle way, warning us about the perils of being overconfident. This week, we have chosen to look at lives and livelihoods upturned by the virus. We have fought hard to prevent misinformation and to reassure our readers. We promise to continue doing what we do best.

I hope that you are safe wherever you are, dear reader. My thoughts and prayers are with you. I am confident that beyond the storm clouds there are “a thousand splendid suns” waiting for us.