Her silence sounds a warning cry to keep one's distance, and I do not claim that the afflicted Nazm is doing well.

In classical royal courts, heralds would cry 'door-baash'—ordering crowds to step aside and keep their distance. Here, the poet imagines his beloved's stony silence acting as that very royal command, imperiously pushing him away without uttering a single word. Crushed by such cold, unyielding quiet, the lover wryly admits that his state of heart is far from well.