From Ansh in Delhi : Each generation in our family has lived through some sort of adversity. My grandmother arrived in Amritsar from a nondescript village in Pakistan, having walked for several hundred kilometers in search of a sanctuary amidst widespread bloodshed. My parents witnessed the Sikh riots unfold in front of their eyes, spending their nights patrolling the terrace to protect themselves from agitators. As they passed these stories on to me over the years, I wondered if our generation would have anything of substance to share with our children. Little did I know, as memes about a virus that sounded like a beer brand began to crop up on the internet two months ago, that this was going to be it. Those memes quickly turned into cautionary news pieces, which turned into WHO announcements, which turned into nationwide lockdowns. And in just a couple of weeks, venturing out into the open to buy bread has begun to feel like a particularly dangerous adventure sport. I once asked my grandmother if she remembered her childhood as a tragic one. She told me that while those days truly were a nightmare to live through, she did also remember them for the abundance of candies her brothers brought home after selling them all day to support their family. As we live through what feels like a generation-defining event, it's hard to feel like we'll have anything to be thankful for when we look back at this time years from now. But last week, as I tucked myself in bed at 5am after working remotely all night for a company at the other end of the world, I saw my first sunrise in years. Maybe, when I tell my children of the horrors this global pandemic brought upon us, that glorious sunrise will also find mention.