The true essence of this story is not about whether Nashwa ends up with Burhan or Ammar. It’s not about the romance or the love triangle. This narrative is much deeper—it’s about Nashwa’s personal journey of breaking free from the shackles she once chose for herself. The chains she willingly wore for the sake of her mother’s happiness.
Nashwa's life has been a reflection of sacrifice, where she unknowingly became the "qarz"—the burden—that would eventually release her mother from her own emotional imprisonment.
But what’s even more tragic is how fate cruelly loops this cycle of suffering. Nashwa’s own mother, Bisma, was subjected to the same fate—losing her husband right after childbirth, being abandoned by her own mom, and left to fend for herself in barkhat villa who would rather ignore her pain. And now, as if scripted by some malevolent hand of destiny, Beenish finds herself trapped in the same cycle.
She too is forced to experience the agony of losing her partner while dealing with the isolation that follows.
Through all of this, there’s one glaring truth: Nashwa was the "qarz," the one destined to bear the weight of this family’s dark secrets, but also the key to freeing her mother from it. Fate, however, does not make it easy. Beenish's father—who should have been her protector—will inevitably do everything in his power to save his son, Ammar, even though that very act will overshadow his daughter’s suffering. While Nashwa has quietly bled for the family’s sins, she will now witness how her taya's blind love for Ammar becomes yet another nail in the coffin of justice.
Ammar’s own arc is one that spirals into tragedy. Whether or not he is truly the murderer of asad is yet to be seen, but the implications are irreversible. The accusation alone—that he killed his own sister’s husband—will forever tarnish him. His reputation, his peace, and his soul will carry the weight of the lies and accusations that haunt him. The emotional wreckage he caused Maheen’s family, will now haunt him back in the form of Asad’s murder, it will leave scars that never truly heal. Even if he isn’t the one who took Asad’s life, the guilt and shame of being wrongly accused, coupled with the endless torment of living with that stigma, will be his cross to bear.
In the end, there’s no escaping the truth. Bakhityar and Barkhat, the architects of this familial destruction, will face their own reckoning. They too will pay the price—a "qarz e jaan" that will take form in the broken lives of their children. Beenish, and Ammar—victims of their recklessness—will suffer through countless deaths of the spirit, unable to ever fully heal. Seeing your own children in pain, their lives shattered, will be the most excruciating punishment for the sins that were sown long before them.
This isn't just a story about love or betrayal. It's about the generations of pain, the unpaid debts, and the unbearable cost of sacrificing one’s soul for the sake of family, and in the end, finding out that nothing was ever worth it. The "qarz" of fate will claim them all.