By LYDIA POLGREEN


BAGEPALLI, India - Under harsh fluorescent lights, dozens of heads bend over keyboards, the clattering unison of earnest typing filling the room. Monitors flicker with insurance forms, time sheets and customer service e-mail messages, tasks from far away, sent to this corner of India to be processed on the cheap.

This scene unfolds in cities across India, especially in the high-tech hubs of Bangalore and Gurgaon, places synonymous with the information technology revolution that has transformed India’s economy and pushed the country toward double-digit economic growth.

But these workers are young people from villages clustered around this small town deep in rural Karnataka State in India’s southwest. They are part of an experiment by a handful of entrepreneurs to bring the jobs outsourcing has created to distant corners of India that have been largely cut off from its extraordinary economic rise.

Only about a million workers are employed in the busy call centers and pristine tech company campuses that have come to symbolize India’s boom - a small number, given the country’s more than 1 billion people.

Almost all of those jobs are in cities. But 70 percent of Indians live in rural areas. India largely skipped - or never arrived at - the industrial phase of development that might have pulled the rural masses to cities.

India has struggled unsuccessfully with the question of how to lift this vast underclass out of poverty. Some economists argue that India still needs rapid urbanization if it is ever to become a major economic power and provide jobs to its vast legions of unemployed. But the founders of Rural Shores, a company that is setting up outsourcing offices in rural areas, say it makes more sense to take the jobs where the people are.

“We thought, ‘Why not take the jobs to the village?’” said G. Srinivasan, the company’s director. “There is a lot of talent there, and we can train them to do the job.”

Rural India was once seen as a dead weight on the Indian economy, a bastion of backwardness. But Indian and foreign companies have come to see India’s backwaters differently, as an untapped market for relatively inexpensive goods like low-tech cellphones, kitchen gadgets and cheap motorcycles.

Now some businesses have begun looking to rural India for an untapped pool of eager and motivated office workers. Rural Shores has hired about 100 young people, most of them high school graduates who have completed some college, all of them from rural areas around this small town. The company has three centers now, but it aims to open 500 centers across India in the next five years.

Most of the center’s employees are the first members of their families to have office jobs. They speak halting English at best, but have enough skill with the language to do basic data entry, read forms and even write simple e-mail messages.

With much lower rent and wages than in similar centers in cities, the company says it can do the same jobs as many outsourcing companies for half the price. A Bangalore office worker with skills similar to those of workers here commands about 7,000 rupees a month, or $150, Mr. Srinivasan said. In small towns and villages, a minimum-wage salary of about $60 a month is considered excellent.

Here in Bagepalli, most of the workers are the children of farmers and often the first generation to finish high school. For many, a job at an outsourcing center is an unimaginable opportunity.

K. Aruna, 19, lives with her widowed mother and younger sister in a tworoom house on a narrow, muddy lane in a small village on the outskirts of Bagepalli. Until Ms. Aruna got a job at the Rural Shores center, the family subsisted on what their small farm and two cows could produce. Sometimes they struggled to earn $20 a month among the three of them. They could scarcely afford vegetables.

With her new job Ms. Aruna now makes more than $70 a month. The family has bought some furniture - a wardrobe - and new saris and jewelry. When she came home with her office identification badge hung around her neck, the whole village gawked.

“I am the only person in this village to have an office job,” Ms. Aruna said, fingering the teardrop-shaped gold earrings she had bought herself. “I never thought it would be possible.”

LYNSEY ADDARIO FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES / K. Aruna, second from left, said she was the only person in her village to work in an office.


Hari Kumar contributed reporting.