By Munjal Shroff

We were first introduced to the vast and vibrant world of Indian folk paintings by our guru, the late Padmashri Ram Mohan Sir. I vividly remember accompanying him to the CSMVS Museum in Mumbai—wandering through galleries of exquisite folk paintings, and then poring over back issues of Marg Art Magazine in the museum library. Those trips sparked a question that would shape our creative journey. At Graphiti Studio, alongside Ram Mohan Sir and Tilak, we began with a simple idea—to restore and reimagine these art forms and make them accessible to children. But static images, we knew, would not capture the imagination of the YouTube generation. Animation could.

And so, an audacious idea was born: to bring alive the folk stories of India using the intricate, colorful folk paintings themselves as the animation canvas. Imagine a Rajasthani miniature painting breathing with life, or the fish, birds, and animals of Madhubani springing into motion on screen.

Our vision was clear: revive India’s folk art and stories in a way that was fun, playful, and relatable. But India isn’t one story, or one style. It’s hundreds. How could we travel across states and traditions, weaving diverse folk forms into a single storytelling universe?

The answer came from our own culture—the Sutradhars, India’s ancient traveling storytellers. Inspired by them, we created three quirky narrators: Krish, the cheeky monkey; Trish, the sharp-witted cat; and Baltiboy, the loveable, goofy donkey. Together, they became guides across India’s folk landscape. 

That’s how Krish, Trish and Baltiboy (KTB) was born. A series of animated tales told through banter, songs, and laughter—each episode rooted in an authentic Indian folk art style: Madhubani, Rajasthani Miniature, Chitrakathi, Thangka, Pattachitra, Kerala mural, and many more. We didn’t just “Draw Inspiration”—we studied the rules of each art form, the handmade colors, the traditional surfaces, the grammar of strokes, keeping the essence of the art alive. And then we painstakingly adapted them frame by frame into animation. The goal was never to dilute, but to let the art itself move.

What makes the series special, is how we’ve used authentic Indian folk art forms—like Madhubani, Rajasthani Miniatures, Chitrakathi, Thangka, Pattachitra and many more—as the visual language of the show. We didn’t want to just “draw inspiration” from these forms. We wanted to animate them, frame by frame, keeping their essence alive. That meant studying the rules of the art styles, the medium on which the were painted, how the colors were made  and figuring out how to then adapt them to animation. The goal was never to dilute, but to let the art itself move.

As a concept the Krish, Trish and Baltiboy was unique and broke every rule of kids animation show. No consistent visual style, no familiar cast of characters and different dilaects! It broke every rule of kids content programming!!  

Kids are far more open minded and welcoming of new idea then adults give them credit for. Kids didn’t need an explanation. They just loved the stories, the music, the characters. They weren’t thinking about “cultural preservation”—they were just laughing at Baltiboy being silly or singing along with Trish or loving the naughty antics of Krish. But at the same time, they were absorbing Indian culture, visual grammar, and storytelling traditions. That’s the power of animation—it doesn’t need a lecture to teach.

Over the years, Krish, Trish and Baltiboy(KTB) has streamed on Doordarshan, Pogo, Netflix, and other platforms. It travelled to international film festivals. We’ve received messages from parents in the U.S. and Europe saying their kids started asking questions about India after watching the show. That’s when it hit me— KTB isn’t just entertainment. It can also be a window to different cultures.

And in the digital age, that window is open wider than ever. A folk tale from Rajasthan, told through Phad art, can reach a classroom in Canada. A Malayalam lullaby visualised in Kerala mural style can be watched on a phone in Brazil. The digital world doesn’t erase culture—it can amplify it, if we use it right.

I believe culture needs to be adapted for every generation and its needs to use the prevalent medium for propagating it. Folk art was never meant to be static. It was storytelling for the people—painted on walls, sung in streets, woven into rituals.  For kids today the most prevelant medium is animation and digital media. Animation just gives it a new wall: the screen. And digital platforms give it a new village: the world. 

There are hundreds of styles, dialects, songs and stories waiting to be brought to life. My hope is that more creators will explore this space—not out of nostalgia, but because it’s fresh, vibrant, and full of untapped creative potential.

For us, Krish, Trish and Baltiboy has been more than a show. It’s been a way to say: this is India. Not just in the cities and scripts we usually see, but in the art, color, and rhythm of its many, many stories.

And if that can travel the world? Even better.