A Love Written in Waves and Words

She danced with the waves while he found solace in the books.

She was adventurous and bold, like the ocean, she called home. He was introspective and thoughtful, weaving tales with his silent gaze.

She was the tempest, fierce and unrelenting like the waves, and he was many shades like the books, layered and full of secrets.

Meet Riya, a professional surfer with a zest for life, and Ronit, the owner of a cozy book café perched on the sun-kissed shores of North Goa.

Riya, who also ran a surf school nearby, often crossed paths with Ronit at the beach. Riya was an extrovert and carefree. She knew that Ronit watched her from afar, but he was too shy to approach her, let alone start a conversation. So, she would often step into his book-filled world with the excuse of having a latte.

Ronit’s café, The Literary Shore, wasn’t just a place to grab coffee, it was a sanctuary of stories. The wooden book café with large open windows, nestled right on the beach. It was a perfect spot where the sound of the waves blended seamlessly with the soft hum of conversations and the rustle of pages being turned.

Ronit poured his heart into designing the café. The walls were lined with bookshelves, each shelf dedicated to a different theme. One corner held sea-themed stories, from Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea to Jacques Cousteau’s ocean adventures. Another was filled with romance novels, their cover worn by eager readers. There was even a shelf for children’s books, a nod to Ronit’s childhood love for tales of whimsy and wonder.

The centerpiece of the café was a giant corkboard where visitors could pin their own stories—scribbled notes, postcards, or photographs. Riya loved this board. She’d often stand in front of it, savoring the warmth of her latte. She loved reading snippets of strangers’ lives, from love letters to travel memories. It fascinated her how so many people shared pieces of their souls in Ronit’s little book café.

Riya had a trail of admirers following her like shadows, but she found herself drawn to Ronit. Maybe it was the way he seemed so different from everyone else. Or maybe it was those quiet smiles and thoughtful eyes that held the promise of untold stories.

“Hey, Ronit! How’s your day been?” Riya greeted him one afternoon, fresh from a surf lesson.
Ronit glanced up, his lips curling into a soft smile. “Just like any other day, Riya. My life isn’t nearly as adventurous as yours, you know.”

Riya laughed, a sound as vibrant as the crashing waves behind her. “Adventurous isn’t the only way to live, you know. Sometimes, the quiet ones have the best stories. They just don’t tell them to everyone.” Riya teased,

Ronit smiled, looking down at the coffee beans he was carefully scooping into the grinder. “And what makes you think I have any stories worth sharing?” he asked, avoiding her gaze.

Riya leaned on the counter, her surfboard tucked under one arm, her hair still damp from the ocean. “Because, Mr. Book Café, people who love books always have something hidden behind their pages.”

Ronit did not realize but he was staring at her a little longer than normal, her damp hair clinging to her face, her eyes sparkling with life, and her infectious energy lighting up the room. He admired her fervently, perhaps even loved her, but the words never seemed to find their way out. Instead, he buried them deep, hidden behind his unspoken glances.

For a moment, the silence stretched between them. It was filled only with the hum of the grinder and the faint sound of waves. Then Ronit spoke, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “Do you know why I opened this café by the beach?”

Riya tilted her head. “Why?”

“I wasn’t always this calm,” he confessed.

“When I was younger, I used to be restless, always searching for something I couldn’t quite name. Books were my escape. They showed me worlds beyond my own, but they also helped me understand myself.”

Riya listened intently, her usual lively demeanor softening.

“It’s my way of giving back,” Ronit said. “A place where people can lose themselves, like I did, and maybe find something they didn’t even know they were looking for.”

“Look at this one,” he said, pointing to a faded photo of a couple standing by the shore, holding hands. “They left a note saying they met here during a book club meeting. Every year, they come back to relive the moment.”

“That’s adorable,” Riya said, her eyes sparkling. “Your café isn’t just about coffee and books, Ronit. It’s a place where stories begin.”

Ronit smiled. “That’s the idea. Everyone who steps in leaves a little bit of themselves behind, whether it’s a story, a memory, or even just a moment of peace.”

Riya listened intently as Ronit shared the story behind the café. The more he speaks, the more she finds herself drawn to him, not just because of his quiet nature or the gentle way he smiles, but because of the raw vulnerability he reveals.

When he confessed that he wasn’t always this calm and that books helped him find peace, something stirred within her. She has always been a person who lives for the thrill, the rush of the waves, the challenge of the surf. But Ronit’s words, his journey from restlessness to quiet contentment, left her mesmerized. There’s a depth in him that matches her own desire for something more than the surface.

And in that moment, Riya realized that she was more than just intrigued by Ronit. She was captivated by him, by the man who found solace in stories and built a haven for others to do the same.

Riya looked around the café, now bathed in the warm glow of lanterns. A couple sat in the corner, quietly sharing a book. A group of friends laughed over their drinks. And a lone traveler wrote in a journal by the window, glancing occasionally at the waves.

“You’ve created something magical, Ronit,” she said.

Ronit shrugged modestly, but her words stayed with him.

He chuckled nervously. “Thanks. It’s not as exciting as conquering waves, though.”

“Hey, don’t downplay it!” Riya nudged him lightly. “We all have our own kind of adventure. Yours is in stories, mine’s in the ocean. And who knows? Maybe your quiet, bookish life has some surprises waiting.”

Ronit raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Like what?”

“Like me taking you surfing,” Riya said with a mischievous grin.

Ronit’s eyes widened. “Oh no. I’d make a fool of myself.”

“And I’d love to see that,” Riya teased.

For a moment, Ronit felt his heart skipped a beat. He was caught off guard by her playful charm.

“But seriously, Ronit, you spend so much time watching the ocean from here. Don’t you ever wonder what it feels like to ride the waves?”

He hesitated, then admitted, “Maybe I do. But I’m more comfortable with my feet on solid ground.”

“That’s what everyone says before their first wave,” Riya said, her voice brimming with excitement. “Come on, one lesson. If you hate it, I’ll never ask again. Deal?”

Ronit looked at her, his heart thudding for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. Her energy was infectious, and for the first time in years, he felt a spark of curiosity about stepping outside his comfort zone.

“Deal,” he said, surprising even himself.

The next morning, Ronit stood at the edge of the shore, feeling equally nervous and curious. He clutched a borrowed surfboard in one hand that felt alien in his hands.

His gaze drifted to the waves, where Riya moved like she was born from the sea. She rode the crest of a wave with effortless grace, her body a perfect blend of power and fluidity. Her hair, still damp, clung to her face, but she didn’t care. She was wild and free, a force of nature.

Ronit stood there mesmerized, a sweet smile on his face. He thought “She’s like poetry in motion—untamed, fearless, and utterly captivating.“

“Hey, book boy!” Riya called out, paddling closer to shore. “Stop staring and get in the water. We’ve got work to do!”

Ronit chuckled, his nerves dissipating a little. “Work? I thought this was supposed to be fun.”

“Oh, it will be,” she said, flashing him a mischievous grin. “But first, you need to learn the basics. Can’t have you drowning on my watch.”

Riya began with a quick lesson on the sand, showing him how to position himself on the board, how to paddle, and, most importantly, how to stand up.

“Balance is key,” she said, her tone serious but encouraging. “Think of it like a story—you need a strong beginning, a steady middle, and an ending that doesn’t make you crash into the water.”

Ronit laughed. “You really know how to speak my language.”

When they moved into the water, it was a different story. Ronit wobbled, flailed, and fell more times than he could count. But Riya was patient, guiding him through each attempt with a mixture of humor and support.

“Come on, Ronit, you’ve got this!” she called out as he tried to catch a small wave. “Don’t overthink it. Feel the wave, trust it!”

Finally, after what felt like a hundred tries, Ronit managed to stand up—just for a moment—before tumbling into the water. When he surfaced, spluttering but laughing, Riya was cheering louder than anyone else.

“You’re a natural!” she teased as he splashed back to shore.

“Yeah, naturally terrible,” Ronit laughed, shaking water out of his hair.

“But you tried,” Riya encouraged. “And that’s what matters.”

“Thanks for this,” Ronit said, his voice softer now. “I didn’t think I’d ever try something like this. But you made it… feel possible.”

Riya smiled, her gaze meeting his. “That’s the thing about surfing—and life, really. Sometimes, you just have to take the plunge and trust the waves.”

“You know,” Riya said softly, her voice carrying a rare vulnerability, “the ocean has always been my escape. But today… it felt different. Better.”

She met his gaze, a small smile tugging at her lips. His breath caught, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of them.

Over the next few weeks, their worlds began to intertwine. Riya taught Ronit to surf, and in return, Ronit introduced her to the magic of books, recommending stories that matched her fiery spirit. They spent countless evenings on the café’s terrace, swapping tales—some written in ink, others carried by the waves.

One day, as they sat watching the sunset, Riya turned to Ronit and said, “You know, life isn’t about choosing between waves and books. It’s about finding someone who makes both feel like home.”

Ronit smiled, his gaze lingering on her. “And what if I already have?”

The waves crashed gently against the shore, as if in agreement. For the first time, both Riya and Ronit realized that sometimes, the most beautiful stories aren’t found in books or the ocean. They’re written in moments shared, in connections made, and in the spaces where two different worlds meet.

PS1: This post is a part of Blogchatter Blog Hop

PS2: This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’
hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla.