S. R. Faruqi:

Probably because in gulshan-e be-ḳhār Sheftah wrote kyā kām instead of kyā rabt̤ , the second line is famous as:

kyā kām muḥabbat se us ārām-t̤alab ko

However, kyā rabt̤ is not merely the correct text, but also a better one. Between rabt̤ and muḥabbat there's no doubt a tajnis, which is a kind of verbal affinity; there's also a 'meaning-play' [riʿāyat-e maʿnavī], because love too is a kind (and the strongest kind) of 'connection'.

This verse too is a miracle of 'mood' and meaningfulness. He has captured a whole picture of helplessness, neglectedness, and despair, but there's not a trace of self-pity or lamentation. In addition, there's sarcasm directed toward a person who would be entirely despair and defeat and hopelessness, through the taunt that he's a lazybones, what does he have to do with love?

The meaningfulness is that he's established a very lofty standard for love. The lover ought to leave the world, or else leave the city and town and become a desert-wanderer. If not even this, then at least he ought to beat his head, tear his collar. That person who would only lie silently in the shade of a wall, absorbed in someone-- he is not a lover.

Then, look at the meaningfulness of 'some wall'. Apparently this wall is that of the beloved. But because he hasn't made this clear, the possibility has also been created that perhaps it might be any wall at all. The lover seeks shade/shelter, and he is without a house. Any wall that would look good and shade-giving-- he lies down beneath it and stays there. This is his life. He is in such a state of homelessness and vagabondage that he doesn't even have access to the beloved's wall. But despite this (or rather, because of his lack of access) he has been called a lazybones.

In addition to the wordplay of rabt̤ and muḥabbat , there's also wordplay between t̤alab and muḥabbat , because love too is after all a search. The speaker can be some friend, or neighbor, or some Rival. When someone asked about Mir, then he flared up and replied. Apparently he criticized Mir, but in truth he recited an ode to his greatness and his sincere attraction/absorbedness. The speaker apparently doesn't even know what he wanted to say-- but what he ended up saying! On just such occasions, Derrida's idea is seen to be true.

FWP:

SETS == GESTURES; KYA
MOTIFS
NAMES
TERMS == CONNECTION; MEANING-PLAY; MOOD

The 'kya effect' works brilliantly here. The speaker is surely asking an indignant rhetorical question: 'What connection with love does that lazybones have?' (Why, none at all, of course!) But the verse is so framed that his rhetorical question shades over, for us, into a real question-- indeed, what connection does he have? (It might turn out to be a profound one.) And as we continue to turn the verse over in our minds, the utterance can even morph into a burst of admiration, a high compliment (an ode, as SRF says)-- 'what a connection he has!'

Even the presumptive hogā adds to the multivalence of the effect. The speaker doesn't actually know where Mir is (and perhaps he doesn't even care either). He only gives, dismissively or exasperatedly, his best guess. Where else would he be except lying around somewhere, morbidly and uselessly? The speaker's attitude toward Mir is sarcastic; but finally the sarcasm is redirected in our minds toward the speaker himself, since he's so blind to everything except the superficial.

Even his calling Mir an ārām-t̤alab is itself ambiguous (as well as amusing). For if Mir really sought ārām (see the definition above), he would hardly behave so crazily as to lie around futilely and uncomfortably in the street. Does Mir not really seek ārām at all-- does he insist on courting hardship and contempt instead? Or does he have a very different vision of what constitutes ārām ?

This is an example of what I call 'gesture' verses, in which the central image (Mir lying prostrate in the street, against a wall) is physical rather than verbal, and thus remains open to any amount of (unresolvable) speculation. Especially since the image itself is based on nothing but a guess.