Are our bedrooms becoming blood-soaked battlegrounds? The Indian home, once a symbol of warmth and intimacy, is rapidly becoming a crime scene. Wives bludgeon husbands with bricks, lovers hide corpses in cement drums, and honeymoon suites double as murder spots.

The new-age romance in India is increasingly reading like a thriller of deceit, betrayal, and cold-blooded revenge. Behind every smiling couple’s selfie may lurk a secret chat, a surge of jealousy, or a meticulously planned killing.

Read in Hindi: वैवाहिक बंधनों में छटपटाहट, बेडरूम बन रहे खूनी युद्ध के मैदान...

As extra-marital affairs grow, so does a chilling new crime of passion, where love doesn’t fade, it kills. “Social media has turned into a hunting ground for misplaced desires,” says social activist Vidya Devi. “The fake intimacy of Facebook and WhatsApp has wrecked families. Beneath the glitter of modern love, there’s a storm of lust, greed, and moral decay.”

Across India, from Patna to Mumbai, Meerut to Jaipur, police are uncovering brutal crimes born out of forbidden love. Consider a few chilling cases. In Vaishali of Bihar, Priyanka Devi crushed her husband Mithilesh Paswan’s skull with a brick, slit his throat, and severed his genitals. In Meerut, Muskaan and her lover Sahil killed Saurabh Rajput and stuffed his body into a cement drum. In Jaipur, Gopali Devi and Deendayal beat Dhannalal to death with an iron rod and tried to burn his body in the forest. In Auraiya, newlywed Pragati Yadav, with her lover Anurag, hired a contract killer to murder her husband within weeks of marriage. In Mumbai, Ranjoo Chauhan and her lover Shahrukh strangled her husband in his sleep. The cruelty is staggering.

In Haryana, a couple dumped a husband’s body into a canal; in Meghalaya, a newlywed wife allegedly plotted her husband’s death during their honeymoon. Down south, a woman poisoned her husband after falling for her tutor. Across these stories, love and revenge have become indistinguishable.

According to the National Crime Records Bureau, extra-marital affairs now account for 6–10 per cent of murders nationwide. In 2020, around 1,740 such cases were recorded. The number surged to 3,000 in 2021, and though it dipped to 2,031 in 2022, the trend has rebounded sharply in 2025. The line between love and lunacy is vanishing.

Is India’s growing sexual liberalisation to blame? Partly. The 2018 Supreme Court verdict that decriminalized adultery, combined with dating apps and smartphone freedom, created new opportunities for emotional and physical exploration, but without the emotional maturity or ethical guardrails to handle them.

In metros, the clash between traditional expectations and global lifestyles has created volatile tensions within marriages. Women’s financial independence has redefined power equations at home, but also, unexpectedly, reshaped the profile of perpetrators. Once seen only as victims of domestic violence, women now appear more often as conspirators or killers in such crimes.

This isn’t just a story of passion gone wrong; it’s a reflection of a society that has lost its emotional compass. Love, once rooted in commitment, has become a consumer product. Relationships today last only as long as the thrill does; once the spark dies, what follows is not heartbreak, but bloodshed.

Love must be more than physical freedom; it must carry moral responsibility. When relationships lose sensitivity, passion mutates into poison. The digital-age romance has turned from ‘swipe and chat’ to ‘suspect and control’.

India now faces a sobering question: should freedom only mean freedom of the body, or also responsibility of the heart? Because when love loses its decency, it doesn’t liberate, it destroys. If this cultural drift continues, the next chapter of love in India may not be one of revolution, but of revenge.