We were never supposed to marry, and our marriage was wrong because of many reasons but it didn't take him a single second before he shouted in front of the whole village and said that I am his wife and marry me in front of them. And I was just standing there like a statue because what could I have done when my own family is in different country and the person whom I was getting married ran away leaving me to get killed by the goons. He saved me when no one was there for me, when everyone was against me and wanted to kill me. He stood there like a rock and become my shield and my husband. And this is where our story of endless love and fight begins. And all of this just because we are from different religion and society will never accept our marriage and love. All of this started because of that tremendously awful day when it was announced that our country is getting divided into two parts and that we have to leave our country, my home where I was born and brought up. The partition of 1947 changed my life for forever. I am Noor and this is my story of Love and War with those whom I used to thought were my loved ones.

What happens when sweet love of vihaan and Disha turns toxic? What happens when vihaan gets obsessed with Disha? Can Disha adjust with his obsessiveness? *Excerpt* "Strip." My eyes widens. "I said STRIP. DISHA." I shake my head. I would have done it if he was not angry. If he was my cute and sweet vihaan. He took the knife which was in the fruit basket. He pushed me on the bed so now I was laying on the bed. He puts the knife at the neck line of my top and sliding it down ripping the cloth in two parts. "How many times have I said you that I don't like when you talk to other boys." "Why?" I ask. I want to know why does he always gets angry. "Because I don't like it. Damn it." He rips the plazo pant in a one stroke of the knife.