Dr. Gour Mohan Roy College Campus Facilities - Hostel Fees, Infrastructure, Address

Infrastructure: Our college infrastructure was simple, basic, but full of utility. We didn’t have the fanciest labs or the most modern classrooms, but we had space—space to grow, to fall, to rise. The benches might have creaked, but they held our laughter. The blackboards might have faded, but they saw dreams forming. Wi-Fi was unreliable, but connections with people were strong. There were days when the projector didn’t work, yet our discussions lit up the room. The canteen was small, but it served comfort food during stressful times. There was no AC in the library, but its silence cooled our minds. We learned to adapt, to adjust, and make the best of what we had. This infrastructure taught us to be resourceful and grateful. And one day, when we sit in glass buildings, we’ll still remember these concrete walls with love.thanks

Hostel: Hostel life was a whirlwind of emotions. You come in with suitcases, unsure of the faces around you. Soon, those strangers become your emergency contacts. You learn to share—not just beds and food, but pain and peace too. From 2 AM noodles to 6 AM wake-up calls, life had no fixed rhythm. Arguments over fan speed, bonding over late-night walks, laughter that echoed through corridors—hostel had its own soundtrack. There were moments of loneliness, of homesickness. But also moments of freedom that home never allowed. We learned how to coexist—different backgrounds, habits, moods—and still be one noisy, chaotic, loving family. There were rules, yes. But we found joy in bending them together.

Infrastructure: Our campus didn’t look like a movie set. There were no big fountains, no digital boards. But it had something rarer — function, familiarity, and peace. The classrooms were clean, airy, and quiet. Fans always worked, blackboards were always in place, and the light always made its way in. The library was a gem — not in its size, but in its silence. It gave space to think, to pause, and to feel unpressured. The laboratories didn’t have shiny glassware or high-end gadgets — but they gave hands-on practice, guided support, and consistency. Everything — from the drinking water system to the washroom maintenance — was simply dependable. And perhaps that’s what I appreciated the most. The campus didn’t demand attention. It earned trust — through quiet reliability. Yesh

Hostel: Living in the hostel was my first time away from home. It was new. Loud. Sometimes uncomfortable. And yet, it became one of the most important parts of my life. I shared a room with someone I didn’t know. And then… we shared late-night talks, tired mornings, and the sound of silence during exams. Meals weren’t luxurious. But they were warm, timely, and familiar. I had to manage laundry, timing, studies, emotions — all by myself. And slowly, I stopped expecting comfort. I began building strength. The hostel wasn’t perfect — but it taught me the value of space, the meaning of boundaries, and most importantly, how to live on my own without feeling completely lost.

Infrastructure: The walls didn’t shine. The floors weren’t smooth. But the space felt steady — strong, and dependable. Our classrooms weren’t decorated, but they gave us shelter from confusion. The library wasn’t filled with modern tools, but it had that silence where I found my focus again. Labs had the essentials. And trust me — sometimes, that’s all a student really needs. Not appearance. Just function. Everything worked. Not always perfectly — but always truly. Understand

Hostel: I had never lived away from home. But I did. And I survived. I shared a room. Shared noise. Shared silence. Sometimes I didn’t like the food. Sometimes I didn’t like the rules. But eventually, I realized — this discomfort was teaching me what school never could. I became responsible. I became aware. And above all, I became ready for the world beyond comfort.

Infrastructure: Your buildings weren’t big. But your classrooms felt safe. Your benches were hard, but steady. And your chalkboards still had stories to tell. The library was small— but it knew how to hold focus. The labs weren’t glossy— but they were ready every time we were. You didn’t offer comfort. You offered constancy. And that made all the difference.

Hostel: I came in scared. Left with a spine. The hostel didn’t pamper me. It gave me the mirror I never wanted— the one that showed me my own mess, my own laziness, my own small victories. From standing in the food line, to sharing space with strangers, I learned that self-discipline doesn’t come from rules— it comes from routine. And slowly, I built myself up in that space.

Infrastructure: The campus may not sparkle with fancy decor, but it holds everything a learner truly needs. Classrooms are neat, properly ventilated, and arranged with care. They are simple, but they serve their purpose without fail. Library shelves carry more than just books—they carry calm. A place where silence feels helpful, not empty. The labs function well. The machines work, the tools are available, and assistance is never far. You won’t find luxury here, but you will find dependability— And sometimes, that’s all that matters.

Hostel: The hostel taught me how to live with structure, and how to manage the chaos inside that structure. Morning bells, shared rooms, quiet hours— it all shaped a rhythm that slowly made me more focused. There’s care in how things are managed—cleaning, food, basic services. Security is solid. You sleep without fear. Meals are homely and steady. Not extravagant, but enough to keep you going. And beyond food and furniture, the hostel teaches survival, friendship, and independence— in the most unexpected ways.

Infrastructure: The buildings may not be modern glass towers. But they stand strong—with walls that hold years of stories and students. Classrooms are basic, but full of light—both natural and intellectual. Fans whirr gently above as teachers draw ideas on the board. The library is where time slows down. A place to read, think, breathe—and sometimes, just be alone in silence. Labs are clean and functional. Everything we need is there, even if nothing is fancy. And it all works when it matters. From filtered water to working lights, the system holds itself up—quietly, reliably. Nothing felt missing. Everything felt enough.okay

Hostel: The hostel is where I learned what routine really means. Not because someone forced it—but because life here demands it. Waking up on time, managing my own space, remembering meals, missing home— All became a part of me. Rooms are shared, but so are feelings—laughter during chai, silence during study, bonding in boredom. Clean washrooms, clean food, and a sense of order—that’s what defines the hostel here. It doesn’t pamper you. It prepares you. Some nights were hard. But those nights made me stronger than any classroom ever did.Lovely

Infrastructure: The college buildings are simple, but everything is student-friendly. Classrooms are open, airy, and well-maintained—perfect for focused learning. The blackboards are always ready, the projectors often used, and the benches spaced well. Nothing feels suffocating or broken. The library has just the right silence—a place where thoughts can breathe. Books are arranged properly, and there’s space to sit alone or with a group. The laboratories aren’t overcrowded. Equipment works, and the setup is clean—no stress, no mess. Drinking water, lights, washrooms, and sitting areas—all functional and maintained. It may not look high-tech, but it never failed me. And that matters more.

Hostel: At first, hostel felt unfamiliar. But slowly, it became the first space where I truly lived on my own. The rooms are shared, but that taught me to adjust, listen, and give space. Some days were quiet, some noisy—but every day taught me something. Hygiene is good, and everything from water to cleanliness is looked after regularly. Security is active—so I never felt unsafe, even late at night. Meals are simple, healthy, and on time. It’s not a restaurant, but it’s home food in a student’s life. The biggest thing hostel gave me was routine— And through that, self-control. Yes

Infrastructure: Everything in this campus is simple, but thoughtfully arranged. The classrooms don’t look grand, but they’re clean, well-lit, and comfortable for long hours of learning. Boards are clear, fans work properly, and projectors are available when needed—basic, but dependable. The library was one of my favorite places—it’s quiet, with a decent range of useful books and a peaceful atmosphere. Labs are not over-decorated, but well-equipped. I never felt limited during any practical work. Even the small things—drinking water, seating spaces, notice boards—are placed with the student’s ease in mind. There’s nothing flashy here. But everything works. And that, for a student, is more than enough.okay

Hostel: Hostel wasn’t always easy—but it was essential. It taught me how to manage my day, live with others, and stay strong when no one was watching. Rooms are decent—neither too small nor luxurious—but they felt like mine. I shared space, shared food, shared laughter, and sometimes even silence. Cleanliness is taken care of. Bathrooms, corridors, common spaces—all are maintained daily. The food is regular and healthy. It may not feel special, but it keeps us going. Most of all, the hostel gave me a rhythm—fixed timings, quiet hours, shared evenings. And slowly, it became a second home I never expected to love.

Infrastructure: The college infrastructure isn’t showy, but it quietly supports everything a student needs. The classrooms are airy and well-lit, making long lectures feel less tiring. Digital tools like projectors and smart boards are used frequently, keeping classes more visual and interactive. The library is a peaceful corner where I often found silence and focus—it’s stocked well and well-managed. Labs are functional and clean, with enough equipment to ensure smooth practical sessions. Drinking water, toilets, benches, and basic furniture are all in place, showing the college’s attention to small but essential needs. It may not look fancy—but everything works. And for a student, that’s what really matters. OKAY

Hostel: Staying in the hostel gave me more than just a place to sleep—it taught me discipline, patience, and adjustment. The rooms are comfortable and shared, creating chances to build friendships and learn compromise. There’s a rhythm to hostel life—morning bells, meal timings, study hours—that slowly turns into habit. Cleanliness is taken seriously, both in rooms and washrooms, and security is tight enough to feel safe at all times. The food is basic but consistent—and on most days, that’s exactly what a student needs. Some evenings felt lonely, yes—but those were the moments that taught me self-reliance. The hostel became a space where I lived, learned, and quietly grew up.