I almost always choose Rapido over Uber, and the reason is embarrassingly small. It has nothing to do with pricing, availability, or even loyalty. It comes down to the OTP.
Uber gives me a new OTP for every ride. Rapido doesn’t. It’s the same number, every single time. On paper, that feels like a bad idea. We’ve been trained to believe that anything involving an OTP must be random, temporary, and treated like a state secret. Reusing it feels… sloppy.
And yet, in real life, it feels oddly perfect.
Most rides begin in a very unglamorous moment. I’m stepping into an auto or climbing onto a bike, my phone already pushed into my pocket because I need both hands free. I’m not in the mood to unlock the screen, glance at a random four-digit number, remember it for ten seconds, and announce it loudly. I also know myself well enough to admit that I’m terrible at remembering random numbers, even for a short while.
With Rapido, none of this happens. I already know the number. I don’t think about it. I just say it, sit down, and the ride begins. There’s a strange calm in that flow, as if something unnecessary has been politely removed from the world.
What makes this interesting is that the OTP here isn’t guarding money or approving a transaction. It’s just a small handshake between two people trying to find each other in traffic. Treating it with the same seriousness as a bank OTP feels excessive, almost theatrical. Somewhere along the way, someone decided that this didn’t need to be overprotected — and that decision shows.
It reminds me that good experiences don’t always arrive wearing labels like “best practice” or “industry standard.” Sometimes they show up quietly, in places where the system chooses not to be too clever. There’s a kind of confidence in that restraint. A sense of knowing when to loosen the grip instead of tightening it further.
Good products are built by people who understand human behaviour better than checklists.
Great UX often comes from asking when not to be strict, when not to add another step, and when to trust the user.
Sometimes, restraint is the real design skill.