a letter to a pilot who never replied,

Hello M — ,

Whether you will be reading this while still at your layover in Beijing, or maybe you will finally open it in a different land, know that it has been composed while both of us share the same night sky.
I am wondering whether I should be introducing myself through these lines — in fear this email might end up in the junk folder, I must uphold the rules of conduct.
This email is not dedicated to potential business collaborations — I am sure you get many of those, especially with your recent surge of followers — nor is it a scam attempt or an effort to spam you with ads.

In fact, I come to you from Instagram. One day, as with many things in life, you just appeared on my feed, and I have observed your meticulous lifestyle. Like any of your many fans, I’ve relished the exquisiteness of details you seem to have a particular knack for.

Aviation has been one of my closest passions — not that I ever dreamed of joining it; I am as clumsy as one can get. My best friend, though, is an accomplished cabin crew member who’s been with a Middle Eastern airline for almost a decade now. Every time I go back home to Morocco, I experience the plague of first-time air travelers — the anxiety that comes with the slightest bump or turbulence. Then I assure myself that flying is one of the safest ways humans could ever hope to travel — much safer than driving a car.

That meticulous editing, eye for detail, and fineness in your videos are inherent; in fact, they are bound to be part of your art form, because you have been trained for years to spot and dissect — to possess a sight that renders machines willing to obey your command. (I’ve noticed you fly Boeing — I might be mistaken — but that control wheel is definitely not an Airbus feature; correct me if I’m wrong.)

And maybe it’s the exposure to long, long hours in the cockpit, trapped and straddled in the beauty of the divine. I kind of envy the many sunrises and sunsets you must have witnessed, apart from your focus during takeoff and landing — I’m sure your heart must have fallen for those incredible views. It’s impossible to remain cold and sterile of all inspiration when faced with such wordless landscapes.

Unlike you, my day job here in Beijing, and living here as a Moroccan, holds little in the way of daily interest. But I find it my task, really, to seek the absurd, the beautiful, and the divine in the little moments scattered around a busy schedule. Isn’t it our duty, even, to compel the mind and the heart to find solace in the ordinary?

I am not sure if you are a fan of long-form writing — sadly, our TikTok/Instagram influence has made us a short-attention species — but on the off chance, I do believe a captain might want to sustain attention for a little bit longer. You might call me a hopeless romantic, but I am still attached to long-form, letter-style writing.

In a different world, my email would have been sent by a dove rather than by code, and instead of flying aircraft for a living, you might be just a step away from creating one.

Feel free to ask me any questions, and if you read this while you’re still in Beijing, we might even celebrate Eid over coffee — and why not, a proper Beijing dish? I happen to know a place or two. Or, if it stays here in the digital realm, I’ll be glad if this becomes a sort of pen-pal spark.

(a mysterious follower)

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