The only way is Kashmir for Essex boy ruling world's most volatile state He lives surrounded by armed guards behind the high razor wire walls of his official residence, but still dresses to the nines, poses in Ray-Bans and likes to drive a high-powered Ducatti motorcycle. He has appeared on the cover of India's GQ magazine, and travels by helicopter around his political domain - an area as big as England, Scotland and Wales. Talking to The Telegraph in Srinigar, the summer capital of Jammu and Kashmir, he revealed his anger at what he considers to be sabotage by Pakistan's army of attempted peace talks with India, his hope that the two countries will follow the path set by London and Dublin over Northern Ireland - and his childhood memories of Benny Hill and the game show 3-2-1. "I'm probably the only [Indian] chief minister who was born outside the country," he said. His British background had given him a "broader outlook on life," he said, but it had disadvantages too. There are those in my line of work who quite happily use this against me, and suggest because I wasn't born here, I have no business being in politics here. His grandfather, Sheikh Abdullah, was the troubled state's first prime minister after Indian independence from Britain, and was known as the Lion of Kashmir for his unsuccessful struggle for its own independence from India. His father, Farooq Abdullah, was president of the National Conference Party, the most powerful in the state and currently an ally of the Congress Party that has governed India for much of the past 65 years. But before that he had worked in England where he met and married Omar's mother, Mollie. Mr Abdullah, now 43, was born in Rochford, Essex, where he started primary school and spent hours playing and cycling in nearby Hockley Wood. Two of his three sisters were also born there and his childhood memories and visits to grandparents in Lowestoft and other relatives have played a key part in shaping him as one of India's most influential young politicians - he is almost as British as he is Indian. One of his earliest memories is of being told off by his mother for forgetting the Green Cross Code after he was hit by a learner driver as he ran across the road. He remembers visiting his aunt in Birmingham and a sound backdrop to his early life consisting of The Archers and Top of the Pops. Even when the family returned to Srinagar in the mid-Seventies so his father could enter politics, English relatives sent them videos of their favourite television shows. As Kashmir simmered with discontent, the Abdullahs chuckled along with saucy Benny Hill, the canned laughter of the politically-incorrect sitcom Mind Your Language, and the digital dexterity of Ted Rogers and Dusty Bin in the game show 3-2-1. He was sent to the Laurence School, an old British boarding school close to the hill station Shimla, for the next stage of his education - a place where "being properly turned out was a very important part of getting through the day without being punished," he said. That may account for his sense of style, which has raised eyebrows in conservative Kashmir. He was listed among Indian GQ's 50 best-dressed men last year and previously posed for a cover story in aviator sunglasses, flashing his cufflinks as he boarded his helicopter and showing off his taste for cutaway collars, dimple-knotted ties and matching handkerchiefs. He went to university in Mumbai and worked for India's ITC group and Oberoi Hotels before becoming India's youngest-ever minister at 29 and then, in 2009, India's youngest chief minister. Now separated from Payal, his wife and mother of his two teenage sons, he has also been described as one of India's most eligible bachelors. Last month he faced the largest-scale assault by Pakistan-based militants in several years when 40 highly-trained fighters crossed the Line of Control between the two countries and attacked Indian troops - as Ayman al-Zawahiri, the al-Qaeda leader, called for a new holy war in Kashmir. Next year Kashmiri jihadis are expected to return from Afghanistan following the withdrawal of Nato forces and try to escalate the conflict in Kashmir. But Mr Abdullah maintains a calm and detached style despite his state's notoriety for high emotions and polarised politics. He doesn't believe al-Qaeda's call for a Kashmir jihad will galvanise an insurgency which has been largely contained and weakened since he became chief minister. Neither does he believe that Britain or the United States will allow Pakistan to encourage returning fighters from Afghanistan to trickle back into Indian Kashmir. But he does blame Pakistan's army for an upsurge in cross-frontier attacks this year since two Indian soldiers were killed in an ambush in January, one of them beheaded. Last month four Pakistan-based insurgents walked unchallenged into India to attack a police station and an armoured cavalry base, killing four soldiers, including a high-ranking officer. That, and the almost simultaneous attack by the 40 insurgents, was an attempt by the Pakistan Army to sabotage planned peace talks, Mr Abdullah said. Pakistan's newly-elected prime minister, Nawaz Sharif, was due to meet India's prime minister Dr Manmohan Singh at the United Nations General Assembly. Instead, the fighting lasted for almost two weeks. "You cannot possibly infiltrate 40 people without the Pakistan army seeing them try to go across the Line of Control," he said. They would have to be absolutely blind. If you are willing to turn a blind eye to that, then clearly it's happening with your tacit approval. Last week he took a more hawkish line and called for India to "respond in kind" to Pakistan army shelling which forced several dozen Indian villagers to flee their homes close to the border. Demonstrators burn an effigy of Omar Abdullah in New Delhi last month (REUTERS) He had supported a plan for peace in Kashmir put forward by Pakistan's then president, General Pervez Musharraf, in 2005, which proposed demilitarisation, greater autonomy and freedom of movement and no change of existing borders. Now he says he is more "realistic" about the prospects but still believes a settlement can be reached in his lifetime. Jammu and Kashmir could never be fully independent, he says, because it is landlocked and lacks natural resources, so will always remain under Indian sovereignty. But he believes Britain's Northern Ireland peace process and devolution in Scotland could inspire a future settlement in Kashmir in which "sovereignty is not threatened but you recognise the nationalist sentiment that exists and you evolve that." As for his Essex connection, he admits that he frets over how it is seen by others. There is nothing wrong with the place but for some reason it seems to be the butt of all jokes. Then you have television shows like The Only Way Is Essex, and they really bring out the worst of the place rather than the best. My sisters and I often tease our parents as to why, of all the counties in England, they had to choose Essex. But, he said, he likes to visit his home county, and his family elsewhere in Britain. "I make an effort to go back whenever I can," he said. I like to keep that connection alive as much as possible. He admits, though, that life outside his usual security shield can sometimes make him more anxious than the threat from Kashmir's militants at home in India. "When I go to England and I don't have anything, that's when it becomes strange: getting on to a bus, travelling by Tube, buying myself a train ticket and hopping on to a train, these are things that I never get to do," he said. The first few days I'm nervous when I'm driving around there because I'm just not used to being on my own.