make the story from opening John and and she lived in a poor cottage on a small hill top in a remote village one day when John had gone out of the house
It is the story of a long past. In a village, there lived an old couple. They had a single daughter. They did not have any son. As they wanted a son, they performed various religious rituals and duties, and went on fasting as believers. Wherever they went, whichever temple they visited, they sought a blessing from the God and that was for a son. In hope of a son, their youth passed and they started getting old. Yet they had no son. As their daughter got young, they arranged her marriage to a man far away from their village. After her marriage, the old couple was left alone. The agony of not having a son ever left them.
On night the old woman had a dream. In the dream, she was told that she would have a son. She shared this dream with her husband and they both felt happy at the thought. They thought that their devotion to God is going to yield good results. The dream turned true. The old woman conceived a baby and had a son. But the son was born with mula (planetary positions in such a place according to astrology that the new born baby's birth would invite death to the parents). The parents were worried. The asked the astrologers about what to do and did many things to avert death, but nothing would work. They were after all destined to death. They, however, consoled themselves thinking that even if they dies, their son who would help them cross the river in the underworld after their death. They will not be forced to remain in hell as they had a son to lead them through. (Hindus believe that only the son can help them cross the deadly river and free them through the rituals from the cycle of rebirth and redeem them from sins they have committed in this life).
Time passed and parents died away. The son was left alone as an orphan. As he was an orphan and was small, his relatives (uncles and cousins) tried to chase him away from his house. They wanted to drive him away and capture his property. Therefore, they started ill treating him. In a long time run, the boy could not tolerate their treatment. He started keeping away from home. He looked after the cattle of some other villagers and thus made his living. The villagers told him that he had a sister who was married to a man of a far off village. They told him to go to his sister. The boy grew up in the village by looking after the cattle of other villagers and when he was young, he went to his sister's place.
Kennedy is a country doctor, and lives in Colebrook, on the shores of Eastbay. The high ground rising abruptly behind the red roofs of the little town crowds the quaint High Street against the wall which defends it from the sea. Beyond the sea-wall there curves for miles in a vast and regular sweep the barren beach of shingle, with the village of Brenzett standing out darkly across the water, a spire in a clump of trees; and still further out the perpendicular column of a lighthouse, looking in the distance no bigger than a lead pencil, marks the vanishing-point of the land. The country at the back of Brenzett is low and flat, but the bay is fairly well sheltered from the seas, and occasionally a big ship, windbound or through stress of weather, makes use of the anchoring ground a mile and a half due north from you as you stand at the back door of the "Ship Inn" in Brenzett. A dilapidated windmill near by lifting its shattered arms from a mound no loftier than a rubbish heap, and a Martello tower squatting at the water's edge half a mile to the south of the Coastguard cottages, are familiar to the skippers of small craft. These are the official seamarks for the patch of trustworthy bottom represented on the Admiralty charts by an irregular oval of dots enclosing several figures six, with a tiny anchor engraved among them, and the legend "mud and shells" over all.
The brow of the upland overtops the square tower of the Colebrook Church. The slope is green and looped by a white road. Ascending along this road, you open a valley broad and shallow, a wide green trough of pastures and hedges merging inland into a vista of purple tints and flowing lines closing the view.
In this valley down to Brenzett and Colebrook and up to Darnford, the market town fourteen miles away, lies the practice of my friend Kennedy. He had begun life as surgeon in the Navy, and afterwards had been the companion of a famous traveler, in the days when there were continents with unexplored interiors. His papers on the fauna and flora made him known to scientific societies. And now he had come to a country practice - from choice. The penetrating power of his mind, acting like a corrosive fluid, had destroyed his ambition, I fancy. His intelligence is of a scientific order, of an investigating habit, and of that unappeasable curiosity which believes that there is a particle of a general truth in every mystery.
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Explanation:
It is the story of a long past. In a village, there lived an old couple. They had a single daughter. They did not have any son. As they wanted a son, they performed various religious rituals and duties, and went on fasting as believers. Wherever they went, whichever temple they visited, they sought a blessing from the God and that was for a son. In hope of a son, their youth passed and they started getting old. Yet they had no son. As their daughter got young, they arranged her marriage to a man far away from their village. After her marriage, the old couple was left alone. The agony of not having a son ever left them.
On night the old woman had a dream. In the dream, she was told that she would have a son. She shared this dream with her husband and they both felt happy at the thought. They thought that their devotion to God is going to yield good results. The dream turned true. The old woman conceived a baby and had a son. But the son was born with mula (planetary positions in such a place according to astrology that the new born baby's birth would invite death to the parents). The parents were worried. The asked the astrologers about what to do and did many things to avert death, but nothing would work. They were after all destined to death. They, however, consoled themselves thinking that even if they dies, their son who would help them cross the river in the underworld after their death. They will not be forced to remain in hell as they had a son to lead them through. (Hindus believe that only the son can help them cross the deadly river and free them through the rituals from the cycle of rebirth and redeem them from sins they have committed in this life).
Time passed and parents died away. The son was left alone as an orphan. As he was an orphan and was small, his relatives (uncles and cousins) tried to chase him away from his house. They wanted to drive him away and capture his property. Therefore, they started ill treating him. In a long time run, the boy could not tolerate their treatment. He started keeping away from home. He looked after the cattle of some other villagers and thus made his living. The villagers told him that he had a sister who was married to a man of a far off village. They told him to go to his sister. The boy grew up in the village by looking after the cattle of other villagers and when he was young, he went to his sister's place.
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Explanation:
Kennedy is a country doctor, and lives in Colebrook, on the shores of Eastbay. The high ground rising abruptly behind the red roofs of the little town crowds the quaint High Street against the wall which defends it from the sea. Beyond the sea-wall there curves for miles in a vast and regular sweep the barren beach of shingle, with the village of Brenzett standing out darkly across the water, a spire in a clump of trees; and still further out the perpendicular column of a lighthouse, looking in the distance no bigger than a lead pencil, marks the vanishing-point of the land. The country at the back of Brenzett is low and flat, but the bay is fairly well sheltered from the seas, and occasionally a big ship, windbound or through stress of weather, makes use of the anchoring ground a mile and a half due north from you as you stand at the back door of the "Ship Inn" in Brenzett. A dilapidated windmill near by lifting its shattered arms from a mound no loftier than a rubbish heap, and a Martello tower squatting at the water's edge half a mile to the south of the Coastguard cottages, are familiar to the skippers of small craft. These are the official seamarks for the patch of trustworthy bottom represented on the Admiralty charts by an irregular oval of dots enclosing several figures six, with a tiny anchor engraved among them, and the legend "mud and shells" over all.
The brow of the upland overtops the square tower of the Colebrook Church. The slope is green and looped by a white road. Ascending along this road, you open a valley broad and shallow, a wide green trough of pastures and hedges merging inland into a vista of purple tints and flowing lines closing the view.
In this valley down to Brenzett and Colebrook and up to Darnford, the market town fourteen miles away, lies the practice of my friend Kennedy. He had begun life as surgeon in the Navy, and afterwards had been the companion of a famous traveler, in the days when there were continents with unexplored interiors. His papers on the fauna and flora made him known to scientific societies. And now he had come to a country practice - from choice. The penetrating power of his mind, acting like a corrosive fluid, had destroyed his ambition, I fancy. His intelligence is of a scientific order, of an investigating habit, and of that unappeasable curiosity which believes that there is a particle of a general truth in every mystery.