I decided to buy a gouache paint set on discount from Lazada, simply because it looked like a relaxing hobby to have, and I need different outlets to de-stress. On my third day, I wanted to chuck my paintbrush out of the window. I was trying to paint on a postcard-sized watercolour block, but as a beginner, I couldn’t seem to control the gouache/water ratio well, and the colours didn’t come out the way I wanted them to.

Much like my newbie attempts to paint, this year has spun out of control. No one expected a pandemic to happen. Back…


Kamal, a man who looked like he was blessed with all the luxury the world had to offer him, couldn’t remember his job as a CEO being this hard — and it wasn’t only because he was missing his London vacation.

Today, he learned that his favourite senior manager had requested for a paternity leave, and he needed to approve because such a ludicrous thing was now a policy. 30 days of leave, just to take care of a baby?!

It was bad enough there were fewer people at the office nowadays. …


I started writing my novel on April 3, and have now written 15,044 words. Not exactly the type of milestone you celebrate over, but I haven’t written something this long since 2 years ago for my Creative Writing dissertation. Friends would give me potential short story competitions to submit to, and I would hype myself up over them, because I felt that it was important to improve my publishing record, that it would be good to have credentials. But I struggled with time and ideas — I was busy with work, and the commute tired me out. …


When I was a child, I was introduced to books that my mother deemed appropriate for my upbringing. Enter Enid Blyton books, fairytales, old issues of Reader’s Digest and National Geographic magazines my mother used to collect, and of course, stories about the Prophets in Islam.

Later on, books came to me through recommendations, complaints, observations, and casual curiosity. One such book that was recommended by a friend to me was Hons & Rebels, a memoir by Jessica Mitford back in 2013. I ordered it, read it, and a lot of it went through my head. It is very much…


I think about my year in London, maybe not as frequently as I used to, but I still do — like that one time while I was driving to work, and it started drizzling, then a song I used to listen to on my tube journeys played on my car radio, taking me back to that moment in time when I was thousands of miles away from home.

Everyone deals with leaving behind people, places, and things they love differently. Some avoid everything that remind them of it; some think of it fondly and talk about it with other people…


I was 9 years old when I decided that I wanted to write when I grew up. A decade later, I found myself answering the question: “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?” for a scholarship essay (which I won). Looking back at the essay, I had written a scenario that is very much what I am going through now in my mid 20s as a full-time writer/journalist. Whenever people ask me, “Are you doing what you love to do?” I suppose I could say — sure. I know! So what’s the point of this article in the first…

Hamizah Adzmi

writer.

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