It does not even end with the great symbol of finality, death. For when the protagonist dies the story continues: his widow suffers bitterly or celebrates madly or throws herself on his pyre or knits herself into extinction; his son turns to drugs or becomes a man or seeks revenge or carries on as before; the world goes on. And – who knows? – perhaps our hero goes on too, in some other world, finer than the one Hollywood could create for him.

There is, in short, Ganapathi, no end to the story of life. There are merely pauses. The end is the arbitrary invention of the teller, but there can be no finality about his choice. Today's end is, after all, only tomorrow's beginning.

The lover for his part portrayed as a spineless individual resigned to his fate that has no choice but to continue hopelessly loving his beloved. He almost enjoys the pain and torment that the beloved puts him through, for that is better than nothing. This is illustrated in the following couplet from Ahmed Faraz's Urdu ghazal "Ranjish hi sahi":

ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa
aa phir se mujhe chod ke jaane ke liye aa

Misery at least; come, even if it is to break my heart
Come, even if it is so that you can leave me once again