I admit, I was already in awe of her before we even began our conversation. There’s something deeply touching about a young woman who chooses to sit with candlelight and craft heartfelt letters in an age of hurried texts. And then you find out that this same girl is also climbing snow-draped mountains, walking through freezing dawns, and returning with stories of strength and serenity.
That’s Riya Khochikar for you—just 18, but with the clarity and conviction of someone who’s quietly journeyed through shadow and light.
She’s the founder of Letters and Love, a soulful venture that creates digitally printed bookmarks, vintage-style magazines, and handwritten letters that feel like they’ve arrived from another era. The work is slow, meditative, and deeply personal. And Riya doesn’t just design the content—she writes, photographs, packages, markets, and personally follows up on every order. A one-woman army who, at the same time, is also healing, exploring, and rediscovering life—step by snowy step.
“I went through a phase of darkness,” she shares softly. “Depression, isolation… I felt lost.” But instead of turning away from that darkness, she began writing her way through it. What started as personal letters soon became Letters and Love—a space for beauty, meaning, and quiet connection. Around the same time, she found herself drawn to the mountains. “Mountains healed me,” she says. “They gave me silence, space, and the courage to keep going.”
It may have all begun with her family’s love for letters. "Letter writing has always been part of my growing up," she says. “My grandparents still send me letters in the post.” Her own first letter was to her father, Mr. Shridhar, when he completed 27 years in his bank job—a note full of gratitude and emotion. “My father has always been my protective shield,” she says. “No matter what I chose—whether it was Letters and Love or mountaineering—he always stood by me.”
Riya doesn’t speak with the hesitation we often expect from teenagers. She dreams of opening her own book café—a quiet space full of reading nooks, fresh bakes, flowers, and the scent of well-loved pages. Her voice is soft, but her vision is sharp.
She speaks of solo trips not as someone chasing destinations, but as someone seeking herself. From the spiritual pull of the Mahakumbh to the peace of Rishikesh and Mussoorie (Feb–March 2025), and the misty calm of Ooty and Coonoor (April 2025), each journey has brought her a little closer to the light. In May 2023, she trekked to Everest Base Camp with her father. A year later, in May 2024, she returned—this time solo (with a group). She also completed the Annapurna Base Camp trek in December 2023.
One of the guiding lights on her mountaineering path has been her mentor, Satyarup Siddhanta—the youngest mountaineer in the world to climb both the Seven Summits and the Seven Volcanic Summits, and to ski to the South Pole. “He changed my life,” she says. “He taught me that anything is possible with clarity and intention.” Riya had enrolled at NIMAS (National Institute of Mountaineering and Adventure Sports) to pursue her Basic Mountaineering Course, but had to leave midway due to health concerns. And yet, she continues to train and dream—undaunted.
Every creation she sends out carries a part of her. Whether it’s a bookmark laced with vintage textures or a letter wrapped in poetry, her work feels more like a warm gesture than a product. One of her clients, Nandini Issar, described the experience as “endearing,” saying the letter she received was “so aesthetically crafted, it just couldn’t get better than this,” and that each bookmark had a unique message, design, and vibe—“just right for different kinds of readers.”
Despite the beauty of her work, Riya remains grounded. On her Instagram, she clearly mentions her “shipping window”—the number of days she needs to dispatch an order. “Transparency matters to me,” she says. “I’d rather be honest about my time and limits than promise something I can’t deliver.”
What makes Riya remarkable isn’t just her creativity or courage—it’s her consistency, her quiet discipline, and the way she has turned her pain into purpose. Grounded in the teachings of Sri Sri Ravi Shankar, her inner world is reflective, gentle, and resilient. She doesn’t just make things—she heals through them.
Her dreams are not escape routes—they are maps of becoming. The mountains aren’t metaphors—they are meditations. Her bookmarks are not products—they are promises. Her letters are not content—they are connection.
And maybe that’s what stays with you. Not just the beauty, the treks, or the testimonials—but the way she has chosen to rise. Slowly. Quietly. Steadily. Making real time for real things—the handwritten, the heartfelt, the human.
As I wrapped up our conversation, I found myself hoping she never stops—writing by candlelight, walking through snow, pressing petals between pages. Because in a noisy, rushing world, Riya Khochikar is choosing something else.
She is choosing light.
And that, in itself, is the most powerful kind of healing.

















