In the quiet beginnings of Prasanth Vijay’s Ithiri Neram, long before cameras rolled, music composer Basil CJ received a call that would eventually shape the film’s emotional core. The story, featuring Roshan Mathew and Zarin Shihab as former lovers seeking closure after years apart, needed a musical soul. He remembers it clearly. "After the script of Ithiri Neram was ready and Prasanth had a clear idea about wanting a song before the shoot, he reached out to me to compose it." That was his entry point, not with a grand plan, but with a string of melodies waiting to find their place.
His first track for the film was not the now-celebrated 'Neeyorikkal', but 'Nishayil'. More songs followed, almost intuitively, as he watched fragments of the film and sensed its emotional pulse. He recalls that as soon as he saw some footage, something clicked. "Once I saw the footage, I felt that, especially in romantic films, songs play a vital role, even if they appear only briefly. They add so much to the mood." This instinct became the foundation of the album. What began as two songs became a collection, each one reflecting a shade of nostalgia, tenderness or longing.
Rather than receiving strict directions, he and the director shared lengthy conversations on mood and memory. Basil explains, "The core theme of the film is nostalgia, and we wanted that feeling to be reflected in the music as well. It was also about what kind of tunes resonated with Prasanth, and what kind of orchestration aligned with his sensibilities." Basil’s imagination returned often to the sitar and flute, which felt like home. "When I play the flute, the process feels very organic and intuitive. That is one of the reasons the instrumentation naturally evolved in that direction. It was less about consciously choosing an old-school style, and more about letting the music grow from those influences and conversations."
'Neeyorikkal', the song listeners now play on repeat, had an unusual birth. He first tried a light jazz-inspired tune, but it did not sit well with the film’s visual language. Then, on a quieter day, the real melody arrived. Basil wrote half the lyrics in a single go. "We had previously spoken about wanting a conversational style in the song. Prasanth likes that format, where it sounds like two people talking to each other." When he refined the tune, he went deeper into its emotional core.
"I felt the tune would work even better if it carried a touch of Qawwali or Sufi influence, something soulful and emotionally open. So I refined the composition the next day, keeping the structure of the lyrics intact." The song became an emotional dialogue between two people who try, and fail, to erase their shared past. "The song is about that invisible thread that connects two people, even when they try to deny it. In that sense, it mirrors the very emotion at the heart of the film."
When listeners began drawing parallels between 'Neeyorikkal' and yesteryear gems like 'Endhe Innum Vanneela' from Gramaphone or even those Baburaj-style classics, he offered an explanation. The resemblance, he said, lies in the musical language itself. "That familiarity comes from the nature of mehfil-style compositions. They often evoke that kind of mood. It is a bit of a double-edged sword, because while the style can feel familiar, we must be careful that it does not sound too similar to an existing song." Basil added that 'Neeyorikkal' draws from the raga Brindavani Sarang, and with its tabla-backed mehfil atmosphere, it is natural for listeners to sense echoes of those classics.
Choosing the singers was almost like casting characters. He wanted voices that could elevate the composition. Some, like Sithara Krishnakumar, were familiar collaborators. "I have been fortunate to collaborate with Sithara on a few beautiful tracks before. She is truly an ultra-professional. She can sing any song with such ease that you never have to worry about how she will interpret it. She simply understands it, almost as an unconscious process." Others helped shape the emotional tonality of the album, turning compositions into lived experiences. In the background score, silence was treated with reverence. "If the audience does not listen to the conversations, the film simply will not work. The words carry the essence, so the music had to support, not overshadow, the dialogue."
Lyric writing was never something separate for him, but a natural extension of his earliest musical instincts. As a child, whenever a tune came to him, it felt unfinished until he shaped it with words. Basil recalls, "The tunes I made in my childhood needed words to become complete songs." That instinct slowly became a habit, and over time, he found joy in giving language to melody. Even after entering films, nothing really changed. For him, "lyrics and music were never separate departments," but part of the same creative space, inseparable and deeply intertwined.
Basil's journey into cinema was never driven by ambition, but by music itself. "I came to the cinema as part of music. In the beginning, I was not very ambitious about films." Over time, he realised that honest work required emotional investment. "Now, I feel I can give my best only if the story truly interests me. If I do not connect with the story, it becomes difficult to create something honest."
Though often associated with indie cinema, he does not define himself by genre. His interest stretches from watching arthouse to religiously following actioners. "I want to work across different types of films, as long as the story feels engaging. The main aim is to keep exploring new terrains and work on things that have not been tried before."