He moved cities. I thought our love wouldn’t survive the map.

When my transfer to Bengaluru came through, we promised we’d “manage.” We didn’t. Missed calls became mini-wars. She said I’d chosen work over us; I said she didn’t understand the pressure. A friend sent me Pt. Dayaram Joshi’s page and said, “He steadies people first, then situations.”

On call, Daya Sir didn’t offer shortcuts. “Let me handle the process,” he said, “and you two handle steadiness.” Through the days that followed, he ran a focused Yagya; we followed simple boundaries: no blame-lists, no midnight post-mortems, and fixed windows for honest talk.

Somewhere mid-process, the tone changed. Our calls stopped sounding like trials and started sounding like us. She said, “I don’t feel abandoned anymore.” I felt it too—calmer, clearer. By the end, we had a plan for visits, money, and future housing—grown-up, not dramatic.

What I learned: distance doesn’t break love; panic does. Daya Sir removed panic from our home—even when home was two cities.