Indian blokes have a hard-earned reputation for interpersonal ineptitude and troglodytish attitudes to gender roles. The sub-species of Indian softies, condemned to a life of cut-and-pasting code rightfully or wrongfully copied from somewhere of the other, intersperse with occasional bouts of toadying to white corporate chieftains and cosseted by a society that measures marriagability in terms of money earned and opportunities for a foreign stint, have plumbed proud new nadirs of chauvinism and all-round interpersonal uselessness. In light of all this, and with due compassion to the much-abused, both physically and mentally (when they're not being summarily murdered) women of this nation, I propose a solution to ensure the personal well-being, satisfaction and genetic destiny of the softy without further inconveniencing women, their families, or society at large.
First of all, mandatory castration needs to be imposed as an entry procedure into the softie profession. Nip their balls off, and the little bastards are less likely to embark on testosterone-fuelled lives of passive-aggressive rage and disorder. Sperm samples can be taken beforehand, and offered to deserving parties in European countries with declining birth rates, thereby satisfying the wildest aspirations of every middle-class Indian to somehow become phoren, or at least watch their offspring do so.
Next, having cut off the marriage problem at its root (ouch, and ouch again), something needs to be done to cater to the extensive culinary, sanitary and sartorial needs of the softie in the absence of the indentured service usually provided by a spouse. Given that persons of a Marathi disposition are currently being edged out of their livelihood in their own home state by Northerners, as R. Thackeray repeatedly assures us, and that even a softie who has been nipped in the bud is no great company for any sane female, and that vast numbers of disposessed Marathi males need a vocation, all we need to do is indenture them to softies as male servants, after the requisite training. Once every Bertie Wooster softie has his private Jeeves, it may even be possible to salvage society as a whole from the quagmire it has sunk into. These male servants will cook, clean, iron, sew, bathe, massage, medicate, and when necessary, euthanise their charges. Mothers of softies may also breathe a sigh of relief and sink into a long-deferred stupor when this plan is implemented.
Of course, the buggers are still liable to have some residual pervy needs, I'm informed. This also a problem easily solved, by providing each softie with a blow-up doll. This will provide them with a healthy, safe outlet for excess vigour and give their lungs good exercise.
Detailed plans can be provided to interested governmental bodies by applying with the blogger.
*An unintendedly derogatory term for software engineers occasionally used by the Bangalore Slimes,and appropriated by me in all malice.