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By Saroo Brierley

Saroo Brierley (born 1981) is an Indian-born Australian businessman who, at age five, was once separated from his organic mom. He was once followed by means of an Australian couple, and 25 years later reunited along with his organic mom. His tale generated major overseas media recognition, in particular in Australia and India.
An autobiographical account of his studies, far domestic, used to be released in 2013 in Australia, published the world over in 2014, and tailored into the 2016 movie Lion, starring Dev Patel as Saroo and Nicole Kidman as his adoptive mom, Sue Brierley.

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Sample text

The burning sensation told me that I had accidentally eaten a chunk of salt that had fallen into the bowl. I was dying of thirst, but I knew I couldn’t ask for water, and somehow I managed to continue peeling the rest of the potatoes. After I had finished, he made up the dough and cooked the delicacies. I was paid my six pani puri, and thus managed to fill my stomach and also Shekila’s. By the time Guddu and Kallu were about fourteen and twelve, respectively, they were spending very little time at home.

Mum had decorated the house with Indian objects—there were some Hindu statues, brass ornaments and bells, and lots of little elephant figurines. I didn’t know then that these weren’t normal objects to have in an Australian house. She had also put some Indian printed fabric in my room, across the dresser, and a carved wooden puppet in a brightly colored outfit. All these things seemed sort of familiar, even if I hadn’t seen anything exactly like them before. Another adoptive parent might have made the decision that I was young enough to start my life in Australia with a clean slate and could be brought up without much reference to where I’d come from.

My father spent very little time with us (I later discovered he had taken a second wife), and so my mother raised us by herself. My mother was very beautiful, slender, with long, lustrous black hair—I remember her as the loveliest woman in the world. She had broad shoulders, and limbs made of iron from all her hard work. Her hands and face were tattooed, as was the custom, and most of the time she wore a red sari. I don’t remember much about my father, since I only saw him a few times. I do recall that he wore white from top to bottom, his face was square and broad, and his curly dark hair was sprinkled with gray.

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