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As a kid, I was always in awe whenever I see pilots at the airport with gorgeous and usually always-petite air stewardesses trailing behind them. Maybe it’s their smart uniform and their military-styled cap or the fact they always seem to stand tall whenever I see them. But there is something about them that captivates your attention.

That’s all I ever thought about pilots and air stewardesses – how dashing, smart and handsome they appear in my eyes. Whenever they walk in the airport, it’s like they have power over the world. 

As I cling onto the slightest bit of hope I have left of the fate of flight MH370, I realised a pilot’s job isn’t as easy as just flying passengers from Point A to Point B. It’s a lot greater than that. I realised that the second the plane takes off, our lives are in their hands. I realised that every time they step into an airplane, they sacrifice their own lives as well. I realised that it pains them to leave their loved ones for a long period of time in order to work – in order to send us to places that we need to be to unite with our loved ones.

Most importantly, I realised that pilots are not just smart-looking men in decent uniforms that spend their time flying like what I thought as a kid. Pilots are heroes.

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