Money problems made us cruel. We found our kindness again.

My home turned into a calculator after my startup folded. Every conversation was numbers, every silence was blame. I snapped; he withdrew. My sister said, “Talk to Dayaram ji before the marriage becomes an audit.”

Pandit Ji listened without judgment. “Protect dignity first,” he said. He held a disciplined process for us; we agreed to a few ground rules: discuss money at a set hour only, no name-calling, and weekly mini-plans we both signed off on.

By mid-process, our tone shifted from “You failed” to “What can we adjust?” We mapped expenses, paused non-essentials, and promised each other we’d keep affection separate from accounting. By the end, we weren’t rich, but we were together—lighter, kinder, on the same side of the table again.

Pandit Ji told us, “Money tests love; it doesn’t have to rewrite it.” We believed him—and it saved us.