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Mohun Biswas was born in a small village in Trinidad into a poor Indian family. His birth was surrounded by superstitions, and from the beginning, everyone believed he was unlucky. His father drowned when Mohun was still a child, and this tragic event left the family broken and penniless. After his father’s death, Mohun was sent to live with relatives who treated him poorly. Growing up, he always felt like an outsider, restless and eager to have his own identity and place in the world.
As a young man, Mr. Biswas worked in small jobs to make a living. He tried to learn different trades—sign painting, carpentry, and even writing. One day, while painting a sign for a shop, he met a man named Seth, who worked for the Tulsi family—a large and powerful Hindu household that owned many estates. Soon after, Mr. Biswas met Shama, one of Seth’s relatives, and before long, he was tricked into marrying her. The marriage tied him to the Tulsis, a dominating family who treated him as insignificant. Though he had married into wealth, Mr. Biswas had no power, no respect, and no freedom.
Living in the Tulsi household at Hanuman House, he found himself surrounded by bossy sisters-in-law and a mother-in-law who ruled everything. He felt suffocated by their control. Every time he tried to express his own opinion, he was mocked or ignored. He worked for the family as a store clerk, a sign painter, and sometimes as a helper on the estates. But no matter how much effort he put in, he was always treated like an outsider. Deep inside, he dreamed of having a home of his own—a place where he could feel like a real man, independent and free from the Tulsis’ control.
After many quarrels, he moved away from Hanuman House to live in the countryside on a Tulsi estate called The Chase, where he ran a small shop. Life there was difficult. The villagers took advantage of him, and he often fell into debt. Shama gave birth to their first child, Anand, but even with a growing family, they struggled to make ends meet. Eventually, the shop failed, and they had to move again. Mr. Biswas grew bitter, realizing that the Tulsis controlled everything—even the house he lived in. Yet he refused to give up his dream of one day owning his own home.
Later, the family moved to another Tulsi estate called Green Vale, where Mr. Biswas worked as an overseer. The area was isolated and wild, filled with snakes and swamps. The work was hard, and Mr. Biswas felt trapped in another version of slavery. His health began to suffer, and after a violent quarrel with one of the overseers, he decided to leave once again. He returned to Hanuman House for a short while, ashamed and defeated, but he couldn’t stay there long. The Tulsis’ dominance crushed his spirit. So, he took his wife and children and moved to Port of Spain, hoping for a fresh start.
In Port of Spain, Mr. Biswas began working as a journalist for a small newspaper. This job gave him a new sense of pride and dignity. He wrote about local issues and became known for his witty and sharp writing style. Though he wasn’t paid much, the work allowed him to express himself freely for the first time. Shama and the children adjusted to city life, and for a while, things seemed to improve. However, the dream of owning a home still haunted him. Every rented place he lived in reminded him of his dependence and failure.
One day, Mr. Biswas heard about a small piece of land for sale in a place called Shorthills. Without much thought, he decided to buy it, convinced that this was his chance at freedom. But the decision turned out to be another disappointment. The land was not truly his—the ownership papers were confusing, and the building was half-completed and poorly constructed. He had invested all his savings and borrowed money, only to realize he had been cheated. The walls began to crack, and the house started falling apart. His dream of security crumbled once again, and despair took hold of him.
Despite this failure, he did not give up. He continued working, saving little by little, hoping for another chance. His family expanded, and he had more children, but life stayed difficult. The Tulsis continued to interfere in his life, and Shama’s loyalty often remained with her family rather than with him. Still, she stood by him quietly through all his ups and downs. Anand grew older and began to understand his father’s struggles. Mr. Biswas’s dream of having his own home became not just about bricks and walls—it became a symbol of his dignity, his fight against dependence and humiliation.
After years of struggle, another opportunity came when he learned of a house for sale in Port of Spain. It was not large or luxurious, but it was complete and stood on its own piece of land. The price was high, but Mr. Biswas was determined. He borrowed money from relatives and friends, even though he knew it would burden him with debt for years. When he finally moved into that small house with his family, a deep sense of satisfaction filled him. For the first time, he had something that was truly his—something no one could take away.
Though the house was imperfect and the rooms were small, to Mr. Biswas it felt like a palace. He took pride in repairing it, painting the walls, and arranging the furniture. Every corner of the house represented his hard work and endurance. Yet, his health continued to decline due to years of stress and overwork. He suffered from heart problems and often had to rest. His job at the newspaper became uncertain, and he worried constantly about his debts and children’s future. Still, every morning he would sit by the window, looking at his house with quiet pride.
As time went by, Anand grew up and left for college, bringing a glimmer of hope to the family. Mr. Biswas took comfort in the thought that his children would have better lives than he did. But his body began to weaken, and he often fell ill. Despite his fragile condition, he refused to move out of his own house, fearing that if he did, it would somehow stop being his. Even in sickness, he clung to his independence, guarding his little home like a precious treasure.
One evening, as he sat quietly in his chair, he thought about his life—the endless struggles, the humiliation, the years of wandering from one place to another. Though he had suffered so much, he also realized he had achieved something meaningful. Against all odds, he had managed to build and own his own house. It was a symbol of victory over the forces that tried to control him. His heart was at peace knowing that, in this small corner of the world, he had left behind something lasting for his family.
Not long after, Mr. Biswas passed away peacefully in his sleep. His death was quiet, but his life had been full of fight and courage. His wife and children mourned deeply, but they also knew what the house meant to him. It stood as a reminder of his stubborn determination and his lifelong dream to live on his own terms. Even though his life had been full of struggles, he had achieved what he desired most—a place of his own, where he finally belonged.
In the days that followed, the family continued to live in the house, taking care of it with love and respect. Every wall and window carried memories of Mr. Biswas’s efforts, his laughter, his frustration, and his endless hope. His son Anand often sat where his father used to sit, thinking about how much the house had cost—not just in money, but in years of hard work and pain. He began to understand that his father’s dream was never just about owning property. It was about finding self-worth, independence, and dignity in a world that tried to deny him all three.
Years passed, and the house aged with time, but it remained strong—a living symbol of one man’s will to stand alone. The family grew, the children moved away, yet they always thought of that small house as home. To them, it was more than walls and a roof. It was the story of their father’s life, his courage, and his fight to be free. And even though Mr. Biswas was gone, his spirit lived on in every room, every memory, and every moment spent within that house.
Through all his struggles, failures, and small victories, Mr. Biswas’s story became one of quiet triumph. His life had shown that even a man with nothing—no money, no support, and no luck—could still carve out a place for himself with sheer willpower. His journey from a poor village boy to the proud owner of a modest house was a story of hope and humanity. It proved that the true value of a home lies not in its size or beauty, but in the dreams and sacrifices that built it.