Those madly in love with the beloved's tresses should have some distinctive style or flair; even if one enters Paradise, one should go with disheveled hair.

This couplet celebrates the intoxicating madness of love with incredible charm and defiance. The poet plays cleverly with the word 'pareshan', which means both troubled in heart and disheveled like tangled curls of hair, alongside 'latak', evoking both swagger and the sway of a lock. The lover is urged that even if one enters Paradise, one shouldn't go looking prim and conventional—enter with wild, disarranged hair, wearing the scars and frenzy of passion like a badge of honor.