S. R. Faruqi:

The verse is ordinary, but is in Mir's style. That is, in it Mir's story-telling and character-depiction are operative. To call the beloved apnā sar-garm-e kār is also fine. Because if we assume sar-garm-e kār to be a metaphor referring to the beloved, then the reference of apnā is turned toward the speaker. And if we suppose it to be an attribute of the beloved's, then the interpretation will be 'she who was hotly eager in her work'.

Vali has versified this theme in a slightly different aspect, and versified it very well:

dil chhoṛ ke yār kyūñ-kih jāve
zaḳhmī hai shikār kyūñ-kih jāve

[leaving the heart, why/how would the beloved go?
the prey is wounded--why/how would she go?]

FWP:

SETS == DIALOGUE; MIDPOINTS
MOTIFS
NAMES
TERMS

SRF points out the two possibilities of apnā (is the beloved eagerly pursuing 'her own' work, or is she eager to know about 'my own' activity?). But he then ignores the very enjoyable second line.

For how does the ardent hunter react when her prey suddenly vanishes from her sight? On one reading, she falls silent (in amazement? in consternation?), then begins to lament the loss of her prey. But another meaning of chupkā is 'stealthy, sly' (see the definition above). So perhaps she at once sets up a new hunting trick.

She pretends to lament the loss of her prey, so that the prey, who cannot have gone far, will hear her plaint. What will he do then? Will he be lulled into a belief that he's safe, and perhaps betray himself by some rustling in the bushes, or even a loud sigh of relief? Or might he even hastily reappear, so that the fatally attractive hunter wouldn't lose interest in him?