Lion Page #7

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Not a child in this room has any idea of their fate. The song

holds it all together: for this one moment, all are soothed.

ON SAROO:
gradually, his eyes close.

FADE TO BLACK.

Over the black, a SUPER: THREE MONTHS LATER

HARD CUT INTO:

INT. YOUNGER DORM, LILUAH - MORNING

JOLTING AWAKE out of the dreamy song is Saroo, being shaken

STAFF MEMBER:

You. You have to come.

Sleepy Saroo is confused: what on earth could this mean?

INT. RECEPTION ROOM, LILUAH - SOON AFTER

We travel BEHIND Saroo as he’s led into an outer room

balcony. Kindly Mrs Sood stands as he enters.

MRS SOOD:

Good morning, Saroo.

He takes her in. Angel of Mercy or Angel of Death? She’s that

woman he briefly noticed on that first day in the mess hall.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

My name is Mrs Sood. Sit. Sit.

(he sits, warily)

I run an organization called ISSA.

(in English:
)

The “Indian Society for Sponsorship

and Adoption.”

(then says it in Hindi -)

Saroo listens, brow furrowed, a little astonished that this

woman is talking to him as if he’s an adult.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

This place is a home for the

deformed. For the mentally ill. For

juvenile delinquents. Or where

parents who cannot cope leave their

children. But you are none of

those. You are lost. I like to make

sure there’s no one here who should

be - elsewhere. That’s why I’m

here. Annoying them. Helping you.

(beat; opening his file)

I’ve been investigating your case

for a while now - we even placed

this ad in all the Calcutta

newspapers when you arrived here

She shows him a cutting of a small classified ad in Sanskrit,

with that photo of Saroo we recognize from the police station

and, in English, “Indian Society for Sponsorship and

Adoption, 1 Kyd Street, Calcutta”.

Saroo stares at the photo of himself. Fascinated.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

Fifteen million people read this.

That’s many, many people.

(beat)

Not one reply, I’m afraid.

SAROO:

I came from far away.

MRS SOOD:

Not one reply.

It’s a harsh truth and she doesn’t hide it. Saroo, desperate.

SAROO:

Ammi? [Mummy]

MRS SOOD:

No ... no Ammi.

Saroo just sits there. Shocked. Silence. A long beat.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

Saroo, do you know where Australia

is?

Saroo looks confused.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

We found a family there who could

look after you.

As Saroo pulls back -What? -Mrs Sood gets that he

understands this means the search is over.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

Come. Sit here.

Saroo says nothing. Falls deeper into numbness.

Mrs Sood pulls him onto her lap. Shows him a little FLIP BOOK

of photos, sent by the prospective parents.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

Would you like to see them?

(flipping through)

Look. That’s “John”. That’s “Sue”.

This is the house. [etc.]

Saroo studies them, intensely. ON THE PHOTOS: John and Sue,

white, smiling. Saroo’s room. The living room. The garden.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

They live on a little island called

Tasmania. Full of very nice people.

(beat)

They look nice, don’t they?

Saroo shakes his head meekly, No.

Mrs Sood strokes his hair gently, once. Gets serious.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

Saroo. You cannot stay here.

A tear rolls down Saroo’s face.

SAROO:

I want Ammi.

MRS SOOD:

I know you do. It’s hard.

She sets him down. Takes out the photo of John and Sue.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

Will you take this? Look after it,

until the next time I see you?

Saroo nods bravely. Takes the photo in his tiny hand.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

Don’t lose it.

Saroo nods, slips it into his little back pocket. He walks to

the door, head down, dejected. He turns.

A huge question - you can see it in every fibre of his being.

SAROO:

Did you really look your hardest?

She nods solemnly.

32

MRS SOOD:

Under every rock.

Saroo stands there. Hanging onto her gaze like a lifeboat.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

You can hold them in your heart,

always. But now you have a new

home, if you want it.

Saroo looks away. A deep breath, almost a sigh.

EXT. LILUAH COURTYARD - DAY

Two KIDS play a joyless game - others pace the yard and lurk,

B/G - while Saroo sits against a decayed wall at the yard

edge. Amita beside him - holding that photo of Sue and John.

ON THE PHOTO:
already, it’s battered and frayed and folded.

Amita studies it, with the fiercest interest. Saying nothing -

but knowing everything. Nodding. Knowing he’s going. Knowing

how lucky he is.

She looks up at the clouds through the wire mesh open roof.

Saroo looks up there too. A silent communion between the two.

Then - almost formally - Amita takes the tiny Ganesh

medallion from around her neck. Puts it around Saroo’s neck.

Not cheap and touristy, but ancient-looking, and worn -

almost like something dug up from an archeological dig.

AMITA:

Ganesh will look after you. He’s

the god of new beginnings.

Saroo takes her hand in his. They sit there, side by side.

INT. SIMPLE HOTEL SUITE, DINING TABLE - SOON AFTER (NIGHT)

We TRACK through a pleasant, simply furnished hotel suite to

find Saroo and two other orphans sitting, a little stiffly,

at a table set in western style: knife, fork, spoon in the

proper order, butter dish, salt and pepper shakers, etc.

As they eat, Mrs Sood is giving them a last-minute lesson.

MRS SOOD:

(in English)

“Fork”.

Saroo proudly holds up his fork, grinning.

MRS SOOD (CONT’D)

Good. “Knife”?

The orphan boy holds up the knife.

Mrs Sood points to the salt shaker.

ORPHAN GIRL:

(tentative)

“Salt...”

MRS SOOD:

(in English)

Salt. Good.

She points to the pepper. Orphan Girl racks her brains.

SAROO:

(jumping in)

“Peppa...”

It’s the funniest word they’ve ever heard. The three children

giggle, repeating the word.

INT. QANTAS JUMBO JET - DAY

CLOSE with Saroo as he steps into the enormous interior of a

Qantas jet. Awestruck. Everything so gleaming and new - just

like Saroo himself, wearing that hilarious “Tasmania and its

territories” tee-shirt from the Long Way Home book cover.

His minder settles him and sits beside him.

On Saroo:
what a world. The seat. The seatbelt. The magazine

pocket. The window shade. The overhead light.

QANTAS ATTENDANT

Would he like a Kids’ Kit?

MINDER:

Thank you.

She hands the kit to the minder. Then an extra surprise:

QANTAS ATTENDANT

Would you like a Cadbury bar,

little man?

SAROO:

(taking it from her)

Cadbury.

He looks at the minder, who nods Yes, you can open it.

Saroo opens the purple wrapper. Blown away by what chocolate

looks like up close. He bites into it.

INT. QANTAS JUMBO JET - SOON AFTER (DAY)

TAKE-OFF. We study this tiny 5-year-old, glued to the window

as the plane lifts off.

INT. QANTAS JUMBO JET - SOON AFTER (DAY)

POV from window:
all of Calcutta. So tiny down there.

INT. QANTAS JUMBO JET - LATER (DAY)

The astonishing view from 30,000 feet. Saroo’s been glued to

that window for hours. The earth is vast.

Saroo pulls down the window blind. Pulls it up again.

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