InfoBabar !

My Resume that started it all. goto https://sites.google.com/site/omairbabar/home to see it in all its glory . (Copy Paste operation)

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If reading be the food of love...

"Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve.

Find a girl who reads. You’ll know that she does because she will always have an unread book in her bag.She’s the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand book shop? That’s the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She’s the girl reading while waiting in that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peek at her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she’s kind of engrossed already. Lost in a world of the author’s making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. See if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that if she says she understood James Joyce’s Ulysses she’s just saying that to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It’s easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality but by god, she’s going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who understand that all things will come to end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything that you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her up at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She’ll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or during a rock concert. Or very casually next time she’s sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn’t burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to the Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you’re better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes."
— Rosemary Urquico

View from the top

A view from the belly of the metal birdie.

White fields as opposed to Westfield

White London 

snowy landscape

I need to get me one of these.

London Calling

Qatar

As natural as Cher's face

Beautiful Symmetry 

One day Omair, one day

Sochnay ka khana

"Justification is a window to confession"

Mashad ali 

A Midsummer Nights Dream

Who knew the English countryside had so much to offer. I certainly didn’t. All I had known (or read) about the place was tea, bad weather and Mary Poppins. What I did not know where the amazing twisty countryside roads they have, which upon a recent purchase of a car have opened my eyes to 'B' road driving.  The tiny two way roads are now seen as a challenge in my little blue Ford, and believe me it’s a little rev happy clunker. But most of all it’s the view from my drivers seat. Little green avenues and tunnels made with trees and suddenly the wide-open expanse of fields that stretch out to meet the sky on the horizon. These jaunts around the countryside have been made with the help of one charcoal happy bar b quer Henry ‘left hook’ Hayns, the charming cath’barty’ Baert and her trademark sunshades as well as one "lunges happy" barrel chested rupy. I have to admit, I have never had so many bar b qs or sweet corns in the space of two weeks.
I have a theory, that people from england being cooped up indoors for eleven months in a year due to bad weather and rain, forget how to be outside in the sun. I also think it might have something to do with being sober. Given that they drink to quell the depression caused by the bad weather throughout the year they sure do have a weird way of expressing their joy when they're out in the sun, although im not sure sneaking up on a cow with your arm out or trying to catwalk on a tree trunk on the middle of the river is my idea of being outdoorsy.

I also started Boxing with Henry and to be honest I thought to myself what so difficult about that. All you have to do is throw a few punches and just jump around a ring for two minutes. Not to mention the amount of women you can use the ‘oh im a professional boxer’ line.  And if I’m brown that automatically qualifies me to be better than a white guy right? Well that was until I went into the ring with a crazed white fat woman from oxford. Not only did she start scaring me psychologically by giving me her ‘mean eyes’, she also went after me with both arms swinging. Which is where I started to run around the ring.  And this is where the coach told me that id never get hit. And id never get to hit back either. God help the poor sod that mugs her.  So if you ever come across two gentlemen in oxford who claim to be professional boxers, ill show you a guy who is so quick on his feet that when you turn off the light he can be in bed before it gets dark. Did I mention we also learnt how to talk trash here? Or was it trash talk….

Quarter of a century.

Its official. I am now a quarter of a century old. Not that anyone stops to check my id in clubs. Its apartheid taking place on my head. The white hair taking over the blacks, which is the bit about history repeating itself. Come to think of it, I might just be inclined to dye it black when Nelson Mandela kicks the bucket, as a mark of solidarity for a great man. Or is that racist? I don’t know.

I have decided to reward myself this year with an exorbitantly priced laptop. In the hopes of it making it pay for itself. All I know is that I can see Cobie Smulders in HD. And Alessandra Ambrósio. Which in my mind is paisay wasool.

Research in Motion you are a expensive whore. With herpes. Who gives you pain and anguish after a little pleasure... Just like the bosses who run your company and undermine it with short selling the stocks. The money, which should have gone into research for your flagship fuckin phone. Or do you not see the irony with your name. oh right you call yourself RIM. Well stop riming each other and get your shit together (pun not intended).

Time to get a new phone. Being the good muslim boy that I am, Ill give you another chance to redeem yourself.