Latest news with #AmarChitraKatha
Indian Express
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Indian Express
Indian mythology is ready for its anime moment. We just need the format
A few years ago, at a Comic Con India event, someone asked me if India could ever have its own anime or manga moment — a global, cultural phenomenon that felt unmistakably ours. I said yes, but not in the way most people expect. For Japan, that moment came through manga. For India, the answer lies in mythology. And to be clear, I don't mean mythology as religion or a teaching aid. I mean mythology as worldbuilding — character-driven, morally messy, emotionally resonant storytelling that already exists in our cultural archives. But for decades, we have treated these stories either as textbooks (Amar Chitra Katha) or children's cartoons (like Bheem or Roll No. 21). These were never created with global audiences in mind — and that's fine. They were not meant for global export. But that leaves a space open. A space where the format, and not the story, is the missing piece. We already have the stories India doesn't lack material. Mythology, folklore, and even history offer an incredible foundation. What we lack is the packaging that allows it to scale — emotionally, structurally, and globally. What manga and anime do exceptionally well is build internal logic. They create emotional systems where the characters and the world evolve in sync. Take Naruto, for example. A story of an outsider seeking acceptance has universal appeal. The storytelling structure allows that emotion to grow over hundreds of chapters. Indian epics are full of similar arcs. Take, for instance, Karna, the loyalist who's never fully accepted. He is one of the most layered characters in any mythos, anywhere. His story is powerful because it's human. The question, therefore, isn't whether we have great stories. The question is: why haven't we told them in a way the world can follow? Comics could be our way in Serialised storytelling, especially in comics, allows for emotional depth to unfold over time. It's sustainable, cost-effective, and creator-first. Unlike streaming or film, comics don't require massive budgets or gatekeepers. You just start. This is why I believe comics could be our format. Manga didn't begin as a global movement. It began as something local, handmade, and deeply committed to storytelling. The same applies to the Franco-Belgian graphic novel space. (Think Tintin or Asterix.) In India, we have seen glimmers of this. Zines, self-published comics or fan art often tell original stories rooted in culture or mythology. Some are directly inspired by epics. Others take inspiration from mood, theme, or texture. The point is: creators are already doing the work. We just haven't built the infrastructure to support them yet. Why existing work didn't scale It's worth acknowledging that India has had decades of mythology-driven content from Amar Chitra Katha to television serials to kid-friendly animations. But none of these were built with a global audience in mind. They were made to educate or entertain within a specific cultural context. That's a different goal from building long-term IP. Anime became what it is because it trusted the emotional beats to land. Most Indian mythology adaptations to date haven't taken that creative risk. Even something like Baahubali, which became a global hit, largely found success through diaspora communities. It opened the door and arguably helped platforms like Netflix consider titles like RRR, which then reached wider audiences (though often for different reasons). What we actually need Japan's anime ecosystem didn't happen overnight. It was built on a supply chain of writers, illustrators, editors, and animators supported by publishers who understood fan culture. India doesn't need to replicate that exactly, but we do need the scaffolding. That could look like: Once the story exists, it builds its own following, not through hype, but through connection. It's already happening — quietly Year after year, fans walk into Comic Con India, dressed as characters from anime, K-dramas, or Western IPs. But more recently, I have also seen creators tabling with their original zines, webcomics, and story-driven prints. To name a few, publishers such as IndusVerse, Holy Cow Entertainment, Yali Dream Creations, and Bullseye Press are creating new, unique Indian comics, some of it rooted in mythology, others exploring pulp, sci-fi, horror, and grounded fiction. What matters is that they are building original IP. India doesn't need a mythology moment. We have had that for centuries. What we need now is to look at that mythology — and our other stories — through a new lens, in a new format, with a wider ambition. The stories are already here. We just need to tell them differently. The writer is the founder of Comic Con India.
Indian Express
18-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Indian Express
Who's my neighbour: When my neighbourhood was a boarding school dormitory
When I was about 8 years old, I returned home from school in a state of anxiety about my homework. The task was to interview two neighbours about their professions. 'But we don't have any neighbours,' I told my mother, worried. 'What do you mean?' she said, surprised, 'All the people in our building are our neighbours!' Growing up in 1970s-80s Bombay, I was a reader of Archie comics and Enid Blyton stories, where neighbours were people who lived next to each other in a row of neat houses with gardens; and Amar Chitra Katha comics which featured only palaces and huts, where neighbours meant either neighbouring kingdoms or folk in adjacent shacks. Until then, I had never seen a visual representation of my own life in a flat in a high-rise building, and had no notion that the word 'neighbour' could be applied to people living above and below us. Within a few years, my concept of neighbours took yet another turn. At the age of 13, I went to boarding school in Singapore and spent the next six years living a gloriously busy campus life. Here, it was supremely important who your neighbour was in the dormitory. There were eight beds to a dormitory, in large, open-windowed rooms with ceiling fans whirring above to keep us cool in the tropical night. I would lie in bed sleepily looking at the geckos that scampered across the ceiling, till I drifted off. But who could possibly sleep before some whispered gossip was exchanged? When the bell rang for bedtime, the white tube lights were turned off, and we switched on our bedside lamps, which threw a cosy yellow glow around the room. We had 20 minutes to do some quiet reading or letter-writing in bed. When the call came for 'Lights Out', we turned off our lamps and for a few seconds listened quietly for Matron's heels tap-tapping in the corridor — there was no telling when she would do her first nightly round. The frogs croaked and the crickets chirped, and the fans beat the air above us. No Matron. And then began the whispering. It was comforting to have my best friend in the neighbouring bed, to see the dark outline of her hair and the gleam of her glasses leaning towards me as we talked about our feelings, crushes and disappointments, not to mention the feelings, crushes and disappointments of other girls. Can there be anything more delightful to a teenage girl than such whispered confidences? There were some school terms when the girl in the neighbouring bed was more an acquaintance than a close friend. I would then feel left out as the whispers of girls, chatting with their neighbours, drifted across the room, a soft cloud of hushed words occasionally punctuated with a muffled burst of laughter. I doubt that our bedside neighbours would have meant as much to us had we already been in the smartphone era, for then we would have turned not to our friends for comfort, but to the glowing rectangle which ensures that we are never right here, but always elsewhere. Beyond the neighbouring bed were the neighbouring dormitories. There were four or five dormitories on each floor of the two-storey boarding house. At the age of 14, I discovered that it is sometimes necessary to protect yourself from the terrifying onslaught of your neighbours. Rumours began, one day, of a plot. There was mischief afoot, and it was the scary older girls who lived upstairs who were going to perpetrate it as their end-of-year leaving joke. It might be tonight, or tomorrow, or next week. Nobody knew when or in what form it would arrive. In my dorm, we huddled together discussing the matter in anxious voices. The defence strategy of our neighbouring dorms appeared to involve some kind of counter-attack, but we unanimously decided to take the prudent option of barricading ourselves in at night. There were two doors that led from the corridor into our dormitory, and every night we moved a wardrobe in front of each. Since I slept in front of a door, one of the wardrobes was mine. But we hadn't counted on the louvre windows next to the doors, which could easily be opened from outside. When the attack came, it was with boiled chicken and rice. Bombarded at midnight with this Singaporean delicacy flung with great precision through the louvre windows, our dignity was left at least partially intact as we succeeded in bracing ourselves against the wardrobes with enough force to stop anyone coming in. But chicken and rice were plastered all over the place. The housemaster lived in a house adjoining the dormitories and was, therefore, everyone's neighbour. Appalled, furious, and no doubt questioning his life choices, he ordered everyone to clean up the mess the next morning — he didn't care whose fault it was. Being a neighbour means that you sometimes have to suffer for something that is not your responsibility. We were all like a row of dominoes felled by neighbourly misdemeanour. Since then, I have lived in various countries and had good neighbours, bad ones, and those that elicit an indifferent shrug. The ones I'll remember with unlimited fondness, though, are the ones who whispered to me from the neighbouring bed, the ones who popped in from the neighbouring dormitory to borrow a pencil or a music cassette, and, yes, even the wild things from upstairs who descended on us with blood curdling yells in the middle of the night. Apte-Rahm is the author, most recently, of The Secret of More
Hindustan Times
08-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Hindustan Times
Book Box: The courage to be Vaishnavi Patel
A civil rights lawyer by day, an author by night, Vaishnavi Patel constantly challenges the mainstream. Her first book gives us a contrarian version of the Ramayana—letting wicked stepmother Kaikeyi tell her side of the story. On a recent Friday evening, we gathered on Zoom—Vaishnavi logged in from New Orleans, Louisiana. The book club readers joined from three continents—Toronto, London, India, and Singapore. Here are edited excerpts from our conversation: I was the first person in my family born outside of India, born here shortly after my parents immigrated. My parents tried really hard to give me as much of their culture as possible, especially my mom who is Marathi, and she wanted to make sure I spoke at least some Marathi, and my aji would come six months every year and stay with me, so we were as close as we could be with that distance as a family. As a child, I was always a big reader. I also would read a lot of books here from the library. And also I'd read a lot of Amar Chitra Katha and those sorts of books as well, or comics. So it was kind of a nice blend of everything. The Amar Chitra Katha comics were my first exposure to Indian epics, but even then, I remember questioning certain portrayals—why some characters were always 'good' and others 'evil.' That definitely influenced how I approached Kaikeyi's voice. What was the specific moment that sparked the idea for Kaikeyi? The seeds of Kaikeyi were planted seventeen years ago in a discussion between my mother and my grandmother. One particular summer, my grandmother told us the story of how the noble prince Rama was exiled by his jealous stepmother Kaikeyi. At this, my mother stepped in to add that Kaikeyi had actually helped Rama. Without Kaikeyi, my mother pointed out, Rama would have never achieved his destiny by slaying the demon king Ravana, his main adversary in the Ramayana. My grandmother disagreed, arguing that it was cruel to exile your child, no matter the circumstance. And then we moved on. But their minor dispute stuck with me for years, and I would periodically search for stories told from or studying Kaikeyi's perspective to make sense of the contradiction. I never found them. Eventually, I decided to write my own. You wrote Kaikeyi when you were 23, in your first semester of law school—a demanding program. How did you manage that balance? I really don't know how I did it, because I was living alone and presumably had law school work to do, but I've blocked out that time in my memory. Then as now, I write every night, from eight to ten—I just put aside all my other work and do my writing. I feel that writing has actually been very helpful for me mentally because it's a kind of release. The writing style is very different from the law. It's very emotional—it's almost therapeutic. Nowadays, I'm also very fortunate that my husband does all of the cooking and the cleanup, so I can come home and write for two hours, and I will have a meal, and it will all be taken care of. And I mention that only to say that I think that male writers or workers throughout history have always been greatly aided by their wives supporting them and doing all of that work for them, and it's kind of the invisible work that makes their work possible. And I don't want his work to be invisible, so I have to give him that credit—that without him, I probably would not have been able to write more than one book. Your civil rights background clearly influences your storytelling. Can you give us a specific example of how your legal work shaped how you approached characters like Kaikeyi and Ram? Everybody has a story. And there is a side that ultimately is judged to be the correct—the side that the jury picks in a trial. But the other side has presented a very, very different story and characterization of events, and they probably have some evidence for their side of the story, and they probably have some very credible witnesses. And so though we still picked the other side, that doesn't make their story completely false. That's kind of what happens in Kaikeyi—you probably shouldn't believe 100% of everything Kaikeyi says, because she is a very self-justifying character. She always has a reason she'll give you for everything that she did, and she believes that she's right about everything, and she's probably not. So also, you know, Ram's side of the story—that is, Valmiki's Ramayana—is also an equally plausible interpretation of the external events that happen. Working on cases involving marginalized voices—where the system often dismisses their perspective—made me think about how history is written by those in power. Kaikeyi is condemned in the Ramayana, but what if she had a chance to defend herself? That's the core of what I wanted to explore—not to say she's innocent, but to ask, Why did she do what she did? It's the principle that everybody has their own side of the story—and in law, you see a full presentation of both sides, and then you have to choose one. This is very much the thought behind my story of Kaikeyi. How did you get your first publishing break? I just cold-emailed agents. Many agents have a process for contacting them—you just put yourself in there, in what they call the slush pile; if they like the first few chapters, they'll ask for more. And that's what I did, and I was very lucky that it worked out for me. I do think luck plays a big role, like it's about getting the right person at the right time. Similarly for my editor—an Indian American woman who, at that time, was looking for myth retellings from Hindu mythology because she felt that myth retellings from Greek, Roman and Western European mythology were very represented, and there was nothing from Indian mythology. The cover of Kaikeyi is so beautiful. My editor sent me the cover, saying, 'What do you think? If you don't like it, we can make some changes.' And I said, 'Stop, I love it. Don't change anything.' I think I benefited greatly from my editor being Indian American and having a vision for it and wanting to make sure that the cover looked Indian and had this sort of mythic quality to it. You decided to write Kaikeyi as a first-person account? When Kaikeyi's voice came to me in first person, I felt if I'm going to tell her story, I have to tell it through her eyes directly. It was critical for me, to be in her head, to actually get her hopes and dreams, and most importantly, understand her fears. So you understand her motivations, what she's trying to react to, and why she's doing what she's doing. In your portrayal of Kaikeyi, she has a magic ability, one you call the 'binding plane,' which helps her connect with people and even influence them. I love fantasy and magic and wanted an element of this in the story. But I didn't want it to be something that was completely just divorced from the story. I wanted it to be something based on maybe, you know, yoga practices or meditation, energy, etc. And then I had the idea for the binding plane, in part because Kaikeyi starts out her story wanting to not be like a woman. She sees so much value in hunting and fighting and riding and things that are more masculine practices in that time period. But ultimately, her great power is her ability to see and use relationships and subtleties and influence—which, especially in that time period, was considered a means of women's power. You portrayed Ram with human frailties. Did you expect the intense backlash that followed? I did get a significant amount of backlash when Kaikeyi came out. It was a pretty intense response—I got death and rape threats, but thankfully, it was all online. I tried to keep details about where I live off the internet, so I was fairly protected. It was my mom who got very worried, and she was more right than me, which is always the case. I should always listen to her more than I do. How did you cope mentally with that level of hostility toward your work? Kaikeyi came out in April, and then in May, I graduated law school, and then in June, I got married, and then in July, I took the bar exam to become a lawyer. And I think that really helped—that I didn't have too much time to think about it. My sister helped me manage my social media, so a lot of the stuff that came through was filtered, and I didn't really have time to get upset about it. It can be really hard if you're just fully invested—it can hurt your ability to write again. I've seen this happen to friends of mine, where they get afraid to write anything potentially controversial again. I feel lucky that that didn't happen to me. Tell us about the situation with publishing Kaikeyi in India. What exactly happened there? I'm so glad that so many of you are based in India and were able to get the book, because there's no official version in India. It was actually meant to be published—it was set to release the week before Diwali 2022. I asked, Are you sure about this timing? And the publishers were like, Yes, people will buy it as a gift for Diwali. So they had printed the copies, and the copies were in India. And then ten days before publication, I was told, an Independent Review Board has said that this book is religiously offensive, and we're going to pulp all the copies. So they gave a cancel order, and the books were—I was told that they were pulped, which means that they were literally, physically destroyed. But thankfully, we live in a very interconnected world, so it's no longer the case that if a book isn't being published by an Indian publisher, it's inaccessible. You can get it imported through a lot of other places. So it's not a full ban, but it has made it harder because the book is much more expensive. In your story, the character of Ravana is different—he is Sita's father and is protective of her. How much of this draws from existing versions of the Ramayana versus your own invention? This is not the Ravana in the original Valmiki Ramayana. But there are Ramayanas spread across South India, Sri Lanka, and Southeast Asia. Each of these different areas put different spins on the story according to their own principles, traditions, and how they viewed the world. And so in some versions of the story that are told in Southeast Asia, such as, for example, the Thai Ramayan, they have Ravana as Sita's father. And in that version of the story, Ravana is told that your daughter is going to be your doom. And so he basically puts her into the earth, and the earth brings her north. And then later, in some versions, he recognizes it's his daughter, and he's trying to be like, If my daughter is going to kill me, then I'm going to imprison her. And in some versions, he doesn't recognize that it's his daughter. But either way, it's the classic idea that in trying to protect yourself or in trying to avoid your destiny, you, in fact, bring your destiny upon you. However, I did a lot of research on these other versions of the Ramayana and drew on portraying some elements from those into Kaikeyi. I wanted to weave in these nuances rather than sticking to a single 'authorised' version. Tell us about your new book. I studied colonial history a lot in school, and I like to tell women's stories of rising up and fighting back. I do this in Ten Incarnations of Rebellion, a reimagining of a portion of India's independence movement. And you are working on a fourth book as well? It's called We Dance Upon Demons, and it is about a young woman who works at an abortion clinic that's being threatened by demons. So it is very much diving into American politics, and specifically the abortion fight, on which we are an incredibly backward country. I used to volunteer at an abortion clinic, and one of my areas of civil rights law that I have worked on is abortion rights. Given all the controversy and even threats you've faced, what gives you the courage to keep writing these challenging stories? What do you hope readers ultimately take away from your work? You should tell my mom that, because she is very much like, Please stop writing, stop writing these dangerous books. She is very supportive, but she's just worried about me. I'm interested in women's rights, gender justice, voting rights, how democracy works and the interest in those topics transcend law, so they go into my writing quite a bit. I'm interested in women's stories, in their side of the story, in hearing their voices. I'd love for readers to think about motivation behind actions, and to think about different perspectives and for readers to have conversations across generations on these issues. That's exactly what you dream of as an author. (Sonya Dutta Choudhury is a Mumbai-based journalist and the founder of Sonya's Book Box, a bespoke book service. Each week, she brings you specially curated books to give you an immersive understanding of people and places. If you have any reading recommendations or reading dilemmas, write to her at sonyasbookbox@ The views expressed are personal.) Get 360° coverage—from daily headlines to 100 year archives.
Scroll.in
01-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Scroll.in
‘The Legend of Meneka': A fun and feminist retelling of a mythological heroine's story
The Legend of Meneka by Kritika H Rao is a tale of a celestial seduction artist, an apsara who finds herself torn between the chains of duty and the pull of love as she must seduce a sage, Kaushika, who threatens the influence of Indra over common people. Meneka answers to Indra (a Hindu deity who presides over the heavenly city of Amaravati and wields a vajra) and must conquer the heart of this prince-turned-maharishi, who is on a mission to make Indra right all his wrongs and mend his ways. Meneka must not only win his heart but also render him apathetic to his tapasya and mission, leaving him obsessed and seduced by her ethereal beauty. This sage, if you happen to have picked up one or two Amar Chitra Katha or Nandan in your childhood, is none other than Vishwamitra. Meneka's story Years ago, I pored over countless Hindi storybooks during summer vacations (and the rest of the year as well), and the story of Meneka and Vishwamitra always featured in a slightly patriarchal way, subtly degrading Meneka for being an instrument of lust. Her seduction of a rishi is also shown with a comedic tint in skits and movies. The sage is made to bow to his 'base instinct' and thereby jeopardise his tapasya. Of course, when I was a kid, I had no inkling there could be another side to this mythic legend. Rao, with a swooping flourish, rights these wrongs, restoring the grace of Meneka and the respect of the rishi. Meneka is quite reluctant to this seduction mission. The more time she spends in the mortal world, the more she finds fault with her demeanour. Her devotion to Indra (he is described as 'the first of all devas, ancient and impenetrable. He is a power that formed and became sentient at the dawn of creation') begins to dwindle. Rao writes: 'My sari belt constricts around my waist. The necklaces tighten, and my hand rises to skim against my collarbone, trying to loosen their leash. What will Rambha say if I tell her this is how the jewels have felt for so long? That wearing them has been no blessing but a prison sentence? The boon I intend to ask of the lord today will surely catch her unaware-but the lord himself will see that it comes from a desire to be more pious. The jewels are wondrous, but they take me away from him each time I leave Amaravati. All I want is to be untainted in my devotion, close to him, worshipping him.' In addition to being quite racy, this is also a 'queernormative' (found this quote in a Goodreads review) world where a man can love a man and a woman can have affection for another woman without having to explain the whys behind their nature or behaviour. In the ashram of Kaushika, there are such pairs who freely express their love. It was brief but a refreshing change nonetheless. Meneka, too, is smitten with Rambha, who is her mentor and handler. A headstrong woman Rao's Meneka is headstrong and doesn't shy away from arguing with an angry sage. Rambha says about her, 'She is unique. She prides herself on never becoming involved with a mark, a failing I have tried to stamp out, yet it has only made her more creative with her missions. Her wits and resourcefulness cannot be denied, and it is because of those that she accomplishes her missions so successfully. While her illusions are rawer than other apsaras, she has been successful so far because she has learnt not to rely only on her magic and beauty. Instead, she studies her enemy deeply, carving her illusions based on who they are and what they fear. In a few years, I would have her seduce more challenging marks, and with more training, she could one day become heaven's greatest weapon.' The profuse use of Hindi words is delightful, but I felt some words (adrenaline, handler) were alien to the story. 'Adrenaline' is a common word in the novel's vocabulary but 'vagina' is alluded to as an 'opening'. It was a bit frustrating to see the author skirting around it. But these are minor issues and who am I to object to a woman writing about a woman? Rao has normalised what is described as 'amorous behaviour' in Hindi storybooks. I have read countless stories where humans or celestial beings are cursed with shraap because they were either indulging in lovemaking or going skinny-dipping in the lake. Meneka says, 'One time I arrive at the small pool near the hut to bathe, and Kaushika is already there. He is submerged to the waist, his dark skin glistening, performing prayers while in the water. I hesitate, then remove my clothes to enter the same pool. So what if he is praying? The pool is mine as much as his.'
Business Standard
22-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Business Standard
Applause Entertainment Launches 'ApplaToon' - A New Animation Channel on YouTube
PRNewswire Mumbai (Maharashtra) [India], April 22: Turning the page to an exciting new chapter in its storytelling journey, Applause Entertainment today announced the launch of its dedicated kid's animation channel, 'ApplaToon', exclusively on YouTube. Created for young minds, ApplaToon kicks off with its first original animated series Kiya & Kayaan -- based on popular Amar Chitra Katha Junior Library. The makers released the official trailer today, offering a first glimpse into the magical world of the show. The series premieres on April 25 on the ApplaToon YouTube channel. * Debuts Original Animated Series Kiya & Kayaan, based on ACK junior from Amar Chitra Katha Aimed at children aged 4 to 8 years, Kiya & Kayaan follows the adventures of two imaginative siblings who stumble upon VR headsets that whisk them away to Storyland, a spellbinding world built on iconic stories from Indian mythology and folklore. As they journey through fantastical realms, they encounter ancient wisdom, mythical beings, and thrilling quests, all while discovering the values of curiosity, courage, and compassion. Applause Entertainment, in a landmark partnership with Amar Chitra Katha, has acquired rights to adapt over 400 iconic stories from its celebrated comic book universe. Kiya & Kayaan is the first in a vibrant slate of animated series reimagining India's timeless tales. Created by Applause Entertainment and directed by Sanjeev Sahoo, the production partners on the series are Popcorn Animation Studio, Prayan Animation Studio Pvt. Ltd., Living Pixels, and Warnick Studios. Sameer Nair, Managing Director, Applause Entertainment, said, "With ApplaToon, we're venturing into an entirely new creative space -- kids animation and it's both exciting and deeply purposeful. This is not just a new vertical for us; it's a chance to shape young imaginations through powerful Indian storytelling. With Kiya & Kayaan, based on the timeless Amar Chitra Katha Junior Library, we're bringing heritage to the here-and-now, combining technology, mythology, and heart. YouTube gives us the perfect playground to do this at scale, taking Indian stories to global audiences." Preeti Vyas, President & CEO, Amar Chitra Katha, said, "For decades, Amar Chitra Katha has introduced generations of readers to the richness of Indian heritage through its iconic comics. We're thrilled to see our stories come alive in a new format with Kiya & Kayaan. Animation opens up magical new possibilities for children to engage with Indian mythology, folk tales, culture, history, and values. Our collaboration with Applause Entertainment is a step towards making timeless tales both accessible and exciting for today's digital-first kids." Catch the magic of Kiya & Kayaan starting April 25 on ApplaToon. New episodes drop on every Tuesday and Friday. About Applause Entertainment: Applause Entertainment is a leading Content & IP Creation Studio with a focus on premium drama series, movies, documentaries and animation content. A venture of the Aditya Birla Group, led by media veteran Sameer Nair, the studio has produced and released popular series across genres and languages which includes shows like Black Warrant, Criminal Justice, Scam 1992: The Harshad Mehta Story, Scam 2003: The Telgi Story, Rudra: The Edge of Darkness, Mithya, Undekhi, Kafas, Bhaukaal and others that have gone on to win acclaim and applause. The content studio has recently forayed into theatrical movies with the acclaimed film 'Zwigato', Tamil hit 'Por Thozhil', a rom-com 'Do Aur Do Pyaar', direct to streaming 'Sharmajee Ki Beti' and a docu-series 'Modern Masters'. Currently in production is also a robust slate of film, animation and docu-series. Applause has partnered with leading platforms like Netflix, Disney+Hotstar, Amazon Prime Video, Sony LIV and ZEE5 for its creative output.
