O Turab, the ascetic now sits in his secluded chamber with eyes closed; out of fear of houris and beautiful beloveds, how could his door possibly remain open?

In this couplet, Turab takes a witty and lighthearted dig at the fragile piety of the orthodox ascetic. He paints a humorous portrait of the zahid hiding inside his dark cell with eyes tightly shut, terrified that even a passing glance of beauty—earthly or heavenly—might shatter his discipline. The deeper message is that a devotion so terrified of life's temptations is hardly genuine, for true inner strength doesn't require bolted doors to keep itself pure.