I could not think of anyone other than Vanraj Bhatia as a composer on my films. All my projects, except those made in the last few years, had him on board. Having trained in Indian and Western classical music, his knowledge in both genres was deep-rooted. Even though we were long-time collaborators, we would squabble often. My Tardeo office would be rocked by our creative differences and arguments. He was critical of the kind of films I made, what was termed the parallel cinema or the New India Cinema. He used to complain that I [didn’t] use his music [to maximum effect]. My films did not have the hero running around trees and singing — something that he would have probably loved. [Despite our] different tastes in cinema, he would create the best score for me. 

He was inclined towards music from his student days, and in the ’50s, spent several years in Paris, studying with the legendary composer-conductor, Nadia Boulanger. After returning to India, theatre doyen Ebrahim Alkazi asked him to teach music at the National School of Drama in New Delhi. It was a short stint in the early ’60s because he soon realised that he wanted to compose music.