 "Your Highness," she
addressed, "ever since I moved into Mirdiff, I've lost my sleep with the
constant drone of aircrafts over my house. Isn't Dubai the only city in the
world with an airport right in the middle of its infrastructure? Would a new
terminal in Jebel Ali reduce the number of flights passing over my house, and
help me sleep better?" Shaikh Mohammed replied indulgently, "Nayla, its easier
to move people than airports."
General Shaikh Mohammed never
forgot the girl who asked that question. A few occasions later, when he met her
at a Ramadan Iftaar party, he made sure he gave this plucky, audacious young
girl a patient hearing of her plans for Dubai's future.
All of 25, Nayla Al Khaja has
packed her life with an astonishing repertoire of experiences. A poet,
journalist, teacher assistant, graphic designer, cinematographer, radio
presenter, TV presenter, and one of the two local girls currently pursuing a
profession that wouldn't normally be associated with Emirati women. She's
studying to be a filmmaker at the York University in Toronto.
"As an 8-year-old, I came
across the word 'locomotion' in a Kylie Minogue song. Looking up the
dictionary, I realised it meant 'motion'. The concept of motion fascinated me,
and even the act of someone washing his hands at the sink would rivet my
attention. It would make me wonder how a human being could do just about
anything without batteries. I grew close to people and animals, who represent
the motion of life, and through them I found an avenue to express myself."
An incident early in life
remains frozen in her memory as the moment that shaped her future. "One day, as
I was going down the stairs, I suddenly stood still and asked myself what was
making me walk. Was someone pushing me to walk, or was it just me? This
philosophical thought began growing in me, and became a near obsession.
Movement intrigued me."
Even while schooling at Al
Ittihad, and later at Shaikha Latifa Pvt School, she wrangled a role in every
school play, usually as the protagonist. Challenging herself to excel, she
often heard this voice in her head saying, 'You could be anyone you want, as
long as you observe people and imitate their gestures.' She would mimic all
accents, from a Britisher to a Malayalee, and learnt that enunciation was all
about how you moved your tongue.
Soon after, she began writing
poems and stories about fictitious people. Reading became a passion, and around
the same time, her interest in films started growing. "I would feverishly watch
every B/W Hindi film, from Boot Polish to Anarkali, and learnt Urdu through
these films. Eventually I graduated into English movies, and theatre."
While learning about the
crucial aspect of timing in any theatrical production ("If you stretch a moment
it could get boring, if you make it less, you might not get the message
across"), she experimented with aspects of lighting through her paintings.
Nayla remembers encapsulating
banal acts of people on her canvas. "I would photograph a salesperson placing a
diaper carton on the top shelf, a chef cooking, or someone carving something.
I'd return home and reproduce them in my artwork. I have loads and loads of
such pictures, which my mother dismisses as 'nonsense'."
While every facet of life
captivates her, death intrigues Nayla. "How often I've wished I could take a
camera into the after-world just to find out what it's all about! How often
I've deliberated upon the thought that if you poke a pin into a wall, would it
hurt the wall?"
It was this train of thought
that ignited her interest in surrealism. With Dali and Miro as her inspiration,
the challenge of breaking into reality and doing the impossible excited Nayla.
"I would often live other people's experiences. Once, I even donned a salwar
kameez, and took a trip down the Creek on an abra, eating channa! Being one of
the expatriates on the boat, and listening to them speak fascinated me. I spent
just 50 fils for that passage on the boat, but the experiences that I lived
were invaluable."
Her love to live other
people's lives was also the reason why she assumed a different name while at
college, from being Nayla she took on the personality of O'Neill. "I registered
under that name, and all my certificates are marked to that name too. I
wouldn't respond to anyone who called me Nayla during those three years at
Dubai Women's College. Yes, O'Neill is a man's name but it didn't matter to me,
it gave me a sense of power to be called O'Neill. Even today, I sign by that
name, although I reverted to being Nayla at the York University."
 The memory of her entry into
Dubai Women's College amuses Nayla. Dreaming to be the best artist in Dubai,
Nayla was accepted by the reputed Fine Arts Academy in Dundee, Scotland, a
proposal that was immediately shot down by her parents.
They considered her too young
and hyper to move away from Dubai, so she was given an ultimatum to either stay
at home and do nothing or join the Dubai Women's College. "From Scotland to a
women's college, it seemed terribly unfair. But looking back, the DWC was the
best thing that happened to me." The Dubai Women's College triggered her
passion in filmmaking, from storyboarding to lighting, from animation to
post-production.
Taking a little detour from
the delineation of her career, Nayla confides, "I gave the head of DWC, Dr.
Reed, a hard time. A rebel, and immature, once I even locked myself in the
campus radio room. Giddy over my control of the mike, I made all sorts of
animal noises on the radio that reverberated through the college. My professors
got frantic and tried battering down the door of the studio, but nothing would
stop me from jockeying! That day, I was made to write an apology letter to the
Supervisor, and say sorry every half hour live on air."
Her juvenile acts, however,
didn't prevent her from winning two 'Oscars' for outstanding academic
performance at DWC. "No one has that record yet, of getting two 'Oscars',"
claims a proud Nayla, while admitting in the same breath that the third year,
she wasn't even considered for the award, thanks to her impetuous behaviour.
From Dubai Women's College,
she dabbled with journalism for a short while, before being recalled by DWC as
a Teacher's Assistant for first year students of graphic design, and Microsoft
Excel. She was just 21 then. "That year, the passion I had for teaching was
abnormal, it was like standing on a stage, everyone listening to me, getting
all the attention I desired, the graphic room was a place pulsating with
ideas."
It was during her tenure at
the DWC that she had her first amateur/professional experience in filmmaking.
Heading a team of Emirati students, she produced a 20-minute video on how to
use the Internet. It was then that she also befriended one of Oprah Winfrey's
producers, Julie Peterson, a friendship that Nayla reveres. "It was while
producing that series did I realise that I was ordained to be filmmaker."
At the end of the year, she
had to give up her teaching assignment, for the most unlikely reason. "When I
was called in for a meeting with the head of the College, Dr. Reed, I was
confident I was in for a promotion. My mentor, Steve Terney ("the only person
who knows me better than anyone else in the world") was with me, and both of us
were least prepared for his words - "You are a media person, you belong there,
you have so much more to achieve in life. Go." I remember I cried, and pleaded
that I wanted to be a professor. I think that was the best reward he could have
given me, he let me go, at the right time, as it was meant to be."
All roads, then, led Nayla to
the Arabian Radio Network. For a year, she worked as a presenter on its Arabic
channel, and a successful one too - a survey ranked her show as second to her
boss', amongst 13 other presenters.
"It was like a miracle one
after the other, everything was happening right. I got married to Yousuf Al
Marri who I met during the filming of the 20-minute video. I got a full time
scholarship at York University, and I said to myself, 'This is me, and my dream
is coming true.' More confident, and richer by experience, my family was ready
to let me go this time."
From a pampered lifestyle in
Dubai to coping with living alone in a foreign country, the journey was
extremely arduous says Nayla. But, nothing would impel her to exchange her
present with anything. "Scripting my own films, shooting experimental films,
wearing overalls as part of the crew, going up the ladder changing lights,
freezing in the snow while trying to shoot someone in shorts, screening actors,
begging people on the streets to act in my films - its all so exhilarating."
Currently in Dubai for her
summer break, Nayla has set up the Dessart Productions with her partner Junaid
Zaar. Securing a license for a film production outfit wasn't easy she says.
"The authorities didn't understand why a UAE woman would want to get into film
production. I had to pass through several gates for approval, but I was so
convinced about my goal that I refused to give up."
Nayla divulges, while
confessing to being possessed with the power of a 12-cylinder engine, "What
challenges me is unpredictability. Anything routine will kill me. I can never
see myself in a 9 to 5 job!" That's why filmmaking, with all its nuances of
unpredictability, is where Nayla sees herself delivering her best. And, with
her husband's support, she is confident that she's on the verge of making
history in the country.
"It's about time we took on a
prominent role, less than 4 per cent locals are currently involved in this
field of filmmaking. The budget is there, the location is there, equipment is
there, all we need is a good idea, and get ready to put Dubai on everyone's
dialect abroad." (Khaleej Times)
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