Alimony Exposed – Dhanashree and Yuzi Chahal’s Divorce Sparks a Heated Debate

In the swirling vortex of celebrity divorces, few cases have sparked as much public intrigue and outrage in India as that of cricketer Yuzvendra Chahal and choreographer Dhanashree Verma. As of March 19, 2025, their divorce has reached a pivotal moment, with the Bombay High Court waiving the mandatory six-month cooling-off period, directing the family court to finalize proceedings by March 20.

Reports indicate that Chahal has agreed to pay Verma ₹4.75 crore in alimony—a figure significantly lower than the rumored ₹60 crore that once set social media ablaze. This high-profile split, layered with financial implications and public scrutiny, thrusts the contentious issue of alimony into the Indian spotlight, raising a fundamental question: Is alimony justified, or has it become an outdated tool of exploitation?

The Dhanashree-Yuzi Chahal Saga: A Case Study in Alimony

Cricketer Yuzvendra Chahal and choreographer Dhanashree Verma

Yuzvendra Chahal, a celebrated Indian spinner with a reported net worth of ₹45 crore, and Dhanashree Verma, a successful dancer, choreographer, and influencer with an estimated net worth of ₹25 crore, tied the knot in December 2020. Their romance, born during the COVID-19 lockdown when Chahal sought dance lessons from Verma, was a fairy tale—until it wasn’t. By late 2024, signs of strain emerged: unfollows on Instagram, deleted photos, and cryptic posts fueled speculation. In February 2025, the couple was spotted at Mumbai’s Bandra Family Court, confirming their mutual consent divorce after 18 months of separation, citing “compatibility issues.”

The alimony rumors began with a staggering ₹60 crore figure, which Verma’s family vehemently denied, calling it “baseless” and clarifying that no such amount was demanded or offered. The final settlement of ₹4.75 crore, with Chahal paying ₹2.37 crore upfront and the remainder post-divorce, suggests a negotiated compromise. Yet, the question lingers: Why does Verma, a financially independent woman with no children from the marriage, receive alimony at all? This case encapsulates the tension at the heart of India’s alimony debate—balancing tradition, fairness, and modern realities.

The Indian Context: Alimony’s Roots and Evolution

In India, alimony—known as maintenance under laws like Section 125 of the Criminal Procedure Code and the Hindu Marriage Act—aims to ensure that a spouse, typically the wife, isn’t left destitute post-divorce. Historically, this made sense in a patriarchal society where women often sacrificed careers for homemaking, leaving them financially vulnerable after separation. The Supreme Court has emphasized that maintenance should reflect the lifestyle enjoyed during marriage, factoring in income disparity, duration of marriage, and individual circumstances.

But the Chahal-Verma case challenges this framework. Verma isn’t a dependent spouse; she’s a self-made professional whose career flourished alongside her marriage. Their union lasted just four years, with no children to support. If both parties are financially stable, why does the law still tilt toward alimony? The answer lies in a system that often assumes female dependency—a relic of a bygone era clashing with today’s egalitarian ideals.

Global Perspectives: Lessons from High-Profile Cases

Globally, alimony’s justification varies, offering a lens to critique India’s approach. Take the 1996 divorce of Donald and Ivana Trump in the U.S., where Ivana received $14 million, a mansion, and child support—despite her own wealth—because she contributed to Trump’s empire as a homemaker and mother. Contrast this with the 2011 split of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Maria Shriver, where Shriver, a successful journalist, waived alimony, leveraging her independence and a hefty prenup. These cases highlight a key principle: alimony often hinges on sacrifice or dependency, not entitlement.

Samantha Ruth Prabhu and Naga Chaitanya

Closer to home, the 2021 divorce of Samantha Ruth Prabhu and Naga Chaitanya stirred debate in India. Rumors swirled of a ₹200 crore alimony demand, which Samantha denied, opting for no financial support despite Chaitanya’s wealth. Her choice underscored a growing sentiment: independent women shouldn’t lean on ex-spouses unless dire need dictates.

The Opinion: Alimony’s Time Is Up—Unless Proven Necessary

The Dhanashree-Yuzi Chahal case lays bare a stark truth: alimony, as a blanket expectation, is an anachronism in modern India. When a woman like Verma—educated, employed, and thriving—can claim ₹4.75 crore from a short, childless marriage, it’s not justice; it’s opportunism cloaked as tradition. The law’s intent to protect the vulnerable is noble, but its application has morphed into a weapon, wielded not out of necessity but out of precedent or pressure.

Globally, progressive systems are shifting. In Sweden, alimony is rare unless one spouse sacrificed career prospects significantly. In the UK, courts increasingly favor clean breaks over lifelong payments. India must follow suit. Alimony should be a scalpel, not a sledgehammer—reserved for cases of genuine hardship, proven through income disparity, caregiving sacrifices, or child-rearing responsibilities. A woman’s right to equality shouldn’t mean a free pass to extract wealth from an ex-spouse; it should mean standing tall on her own merits.

Critics argue that scrapping alimony risks abandoning truly needy spouses, especially in rural India, where women still face systemic disadvantage. Fair point—but the solution isn’t perpetuating a one-size-fits-all model. Courts must demand rigorous evidence of dependency, not rubber-stamp payments because “she asked for it.” In Chahal’s case, whispers of settling to avoid “false cases” (a nod to India’s misuse of dowry laws) hint at a deeper rot: a legal system that coerces rather than adjudicates.

The Verdict: Reform, Not Blind Adherence

The Chahal-Verma divorce isn’t just gossip fodder; it’s a clarion call. Alimony isn’t inherently unjust, but its blanket justification is. When both spouses are equals—financially, professionally, emotionally—paying one to leave is absurd. It’s time India’s courts ditch the autopilot of tradition and embrace a merit-based approach. Let Dhanashree and Yuzi’s crores be a wake-up call: