A call centre company called Rural Shores is trying to bring the two Indias a little closer together
WITH FANS whirring lazily overhead, several lines of young men and women peer at flickering computer screens as the sound of hundreds of fingers tapping on keyboards fills the room. At first glance, the scene could be that of any office in the high-tech hubs that have mushroomed in many of India’s cities over the past decade, helping propel an economic growth rate of almost 9 per cent this year.
But this is Bagepalli, a sleepy town of some 20,000 people deep in rural Karnataka. In the dusty market, barefoot traders sell their produce to locals who depend mostly on farming and labouring to make a living. Some two hours’ drive – and a world – away is the bustling city of Bangalore, India’s Silicon Valley and home to IT giants Infosys and Wipro. When a company named Rural Shores began data processing operations here in Bagepalli two years ago, it was an attempt to bridge those two worlds and bring urban and rural India just that bit closer.
“We asked ourselves: instead of bringing the people to the jobs, why don’t we just bring the jobs to the people?” says Rural Shores chief executive Murali Vullaganti.
Only a small fraction of India’s 1.2 billion people work in the country’s predominantly urban-based IT and services sector. Given that 70 per cent of Indians live in villages and small towns like Bagepalli, the question of how to bring the boom beyond the cities is crucial to India’s future prospects.
“Unless economic development happens at the rural level, the growth that India is experiencing today is not going to be sustainable in the long-term,” says Vullaganti.
Since the Bagepalli centre opened in 2008, Rural Shores has moved into several other Indian states. It plans to establish 500 centres across India by 2017. Each will employ 150 to 200 people.
The company’s literature boasts of its aim to “assimilate rural India into the knowledge economy”. Most of those who work at the low-slung Rural Shores building near an ashram on the outskirts of Bagepalli are the first in their families to experience anything beyond agricultural work, let alone office life. The majority have completed secondary school, and some have begun to study for degrees by correspondence course. “When they started here, around 90 per cent, while they knew what computers were, had never seen one before,” says Ganesha Subramanian, a manager from Bangalore. “But they are fast learners, and we have learned much from them too.”
Surrounded by walls hung with posters carrying slogans emphasising success and customer service, the employees, mostly in their 20s, handle data entry work for Indian and multinational companies, including insurance and logistics firms. They also answer customer queries through e-mails.
To get to the Rural Shores centre, M Venkatesh (24) travels more than 40km from his village every day on his scooter. “There are no other opportunities for young people in this area,” he says. “I have learned to type and my English has improved through talking to managers. Having a guaranteed monthly pay cheque means a lot.”
V Aruna (21) was one of the first people employed by Rural Shores when it opened. “Before, people had to go to Bangalore if they wanted to find this kind of job. Life there was expensive and very often people felt lonely so far from home. Now we can do this work without moving out of our comfort zone,” she says. “We can stay living with our parents – that is very important for us.”
For E Pushpa (20) the work gives her a sense of independence she once only dreamt of. “My parents wanted me to get married as quickly as possible but I would like to become a social worker,” she says. “I give half my salary to my parents, and use the rest for a correspondence course. Having money I have earned myself is very liberating.”
Stories like that of Pushpa help illustrate how India’s economic growth is also ushering in something of a quiet revolution in terms of values and aspirations, particularly for young women.
But in the conservative heartlands of rural India, there is much wariness when it comes to what is sometimes referred to as “call-centre culture”. Several Indian films and novels have portrayed the life of a call centre worker as one of endless office flirtations and even premarital sex – still taboo in a society where most marriages are arranged. The weight of tradition in rural areas means companies like Rural Shores must tread carefully. Managers have met with local elders to assuage concerns, and the centre does not operate an overnight shift. “Some convincing was required at the beginning because parents of young women were concerned about the image this kind of work sometimes has in the cities,” says Vullaganti. “We need to be careful that we only bring the jobs, not import the culture. We must be conscious of the fact the social fabric here is different from the cities.”
Rural Shores was one of the first companies to explore rural India’s potential for business process outsourcing (BPO). Much of the impetus stemmed from the need to keep the industry – worth almost €9 billion in India – competitive, particularly as other countries, including the Philippines, tried to muscle in. “Outsourcing the outsourcing” to rural India means operating costs are cut by half. Pay scales at Rural Shores start at 3,400 rupees (around €60) per month. The same work in Bangalore would command double that amount. But, managers argue, the cost of living in Bagepalli and its environs is much less – the average monthly household income here is 2,500-3,000 rupees.
Several other companies have followed the example of Rural Shores, opening similar operations in different parts of India. The firm has received several awards. The government has made offers of partnership.
“They are asking us how they can help us grow further, and in other states,” says Vullaganti. “The idea has now gone mainstream.”