The Shayar suggests that perhaps his heart was roasted in the fire of sorrow, and its fragrance arrived too late, like a kebab.

This couplet beautifully captures the lingering ache of memory. The poet suggests that the heart, having been roasted in the intense fire of sorrow, finally yields a scent... a scent compared to the delicious, yet delayed, aroma of *boo kabab*. It speaks to the bittersweet nature of pain—a realization that the deepest emotions, whether pleasure or sorrow, often arrive too late to be fully savored.