Cosmo gets the lowdown from Rahul Khanna, Zayed Khan and Sahil Shroff on how women amuse, baffle, amaze and confound men.
“Out of all the things that baffle me about women, the number- one is their purses. Firstly, handbags have become the new jewellery and cost as much or more than diamonds. For some reason, I can’t help but measure purses in the value of Tata Nanos. When a woman mentions how much her designer purse cost, I think, ‘ Holy Fendi, she’s carrying five Nanos on her arm’. Then, I imagine it and it makes me chuckle. They’re either the size of check- in luggage or postage- stamp tiny; you need to observe carefully to notice them. I have seen women carrying around tiny sparkly objects that resemble, I could swear, the little figurines you see in the show windows of old Parsi relatives’ homes. Apparently, these purses have secret latches that pop
“A bathroom isn’t my idea of a social venue and the last place I want company. Yet, I haven’t seen a woman go
open and are like a magician’s hat because, no matter what the size, women’s purses are filled with vast quantities of mysterious trinkets and treasures. They contain everything you could possibly need— fists full of Splenda, a shot of penicillin, a copy of War And Peace, the portal to a parallel dimension. However, there is one thing they will never have and that is a tissue when you’re about to sneeze. There have been innumerable instances when I can feel a sneeze measuring at least five points on the Richter scale coming on and I throw a look of desperate hope to a woman with a gigantic purse. On every occasion, she dives into the inner depths of the bag, comes up with a casual shake of her head and a shrug, leaving me to deal with my own nasal tsunami.
The other thing I don’t get about women is why they go to the loo in packs. A bathroom is not my idea of a social venue and the last place I want company. But yet, I have never seen a woman go to the bathroom alone. There’s something very conspiratorial about the whole thing. After spending an inordinate amount of time inside, they emerge with smug looks on their faces, fastening their purses and adjusting their dresses. To me, bathrooms are magical wonderlands with champagne fountains and unicorns handing out hand towels. What goes on in there? Are they putting their spy equipment into their bags after averting a World War? Or, and this is most terrifying, are they discussing men?!”