I no longer feel the sweet pleasure of the ache in my heart; I fear that the beloved's mischievous glance has forgotten me.

In classical Urdu poetry, the ache of love is rarely a curse; it is a cherished sweetness that keeps the lover alive. Here, the poet feels an unsettling numbness and worries that the beloved's bewitching, trouble-making gaze has completely forgotten him. To a true lover, her playful cruelty is a blessing, but her quiet indifference is the most unbearable wound of all.