Having spent a little over an hour with one of Bollywood's leading actors, Anil Kapoor, I step into Delhi's blistering heat and get into an auto. The driver's excitement is palpable when he finds out about the interview, and adds for good measure: "Anil Kapoor ki main bahaut izzat karta hoon. Voh mujh jaise logon ke liye acting karta hai (I respect Anil Kapoor very much. He acts for people like me)," writes Abhilasha Ojha.

It could be a reason why Kapoor is regarded as one of the success stories in the industry. And it wouldn't be wrong to say that for the past 30 years he's walked the proverbial tight rope with uncanny ease. Be it the tapori Munna of Tezaab or Lamhe's suave businessman, Virendra Pratap Singh, the innocent Naren in 1942: A Love Story or, more recently, the sophisticated, middle-aged man in Salaam-e-Ishq who is attracted to a girl much younger than him, there's a little bit of Kapoor for everyone; from the front benchers to the elite multiplex goers.

Kapoor's tryst as a producer began precisely two years ago when theatre veteran Feroz Abbas Khan came to him with the script of Gandhi My Father. "When I first read it, I instantly felt that it was a story waiting to be told," he says, while instructing a visibly star-struck attendant to bring coffee — "milk separately, please," he warns.

"There hadn't been, to the best of my knowledge, a film that humanised Gandhi, or, for that matter, spoke about his complicated relationship with his son Harilal." But why did he take so long to step into this avatar? "Things are not always planned," he says, while handing me a cup of coffee that arrives within minutes of our ordering it. "The script was so powerful that it came across with all the ingredients of good cinema," he says, while carefully adding some artificial sweetener.

If he's made himself a strong cuppa during the course of our interview, Kapoor's done it with good reason. He's had little sleep, what with all the last-minute organisational hiccups. "From air tickets to settling each and every bill, I'm doing all of it on my own. And just as we do this interview, the third song for the film is getting recorded in Mumbai," he says.

On the face of it, Kapoor has taken several risks with Gandhi My Father. He doesn't have any screen appearance in the film ("I didn't feel the need to be involved in the acting"), he's roped in music directors Shankar-Ehsaan-Loy who have so far created only contemporary scores ("They are doing a period film for the first time") and he's found a director who, despite being a theatre veteran, is directing his first motion picture ("They — theatre and films — are two completely different mediums").

There's another gamble in the making too. For the film Kapoor has roped in actors like Akshaye Khanna and Bhumika Chawla — actors who, despite having talent and potential, haven't seen too many commercial successes.

"I am not making this film keeping commerce in mind," says Kapoor defensively, while reaching out to pick an oatmeal cookie. "True, this film doesn't have actors who've always given box office hits. But I'm the sort of person who works with people who basically enjoy their work," he says. "For my next productions too, I'm working with people with whom I share a comfort level."

For someone who feels that "acting is the business of taking risks," Kapoor, at the start of his career, did unconventional roles in films like Woh Saat Din, where he essayed the role of a struggling musician who loses his lady love to a man who is far more successful, suave and immensely mature than his own character.

A self-confessed workaholic, Kapoor is clearly restless and this could be a reason why he's already begun working on his next production. Called Short Cut, this film will be directed by another theatre veteran Neeraj Vohra and will star Akshaye Khanna and Arshad Warsi in pivotal roles.

And while this film's already under production, Kapoor's also juggling his acting career with varied roles, including that of a vagabond called Majnu bhai in Anees Bazmi's Welcome, a negative character in Yash Chopra's Tashan (Kapoor returns to the banner after 15 long years, post Lamhe) and a central role in Subhash Ghai's Black and White. He's also working in director duo Abaas-Mustan's next film, Race.

Born into a family which has been producing films for the past 50 years, Kapoor says, "I hated the financial side of films so I told my dad, ‘I'd like to be an actor.'" But beneath all the glamour of showbiz, he admits to seeing a lot of difficult times at home.

"Being a producer was the most thankless job and we often joked, ‘If you want to seek revenge, make your enemy a film producer.' Actors, financiers, distributors, people were backing out all the time. Those were scary times," he says. Even as an actor he admits to witnessing troubled times. "When I started," he says, "I was considered an outsider. I was called a ‘pseudo', ‘manipulator' and people thought I interfered unnecessarily. On my part," he ponders, "I was only wanting to work honestly and sincerely."

Which is why Kapoor feels he's entered the "production" domain at the right time. "The film industry is getting a clean corporate image now and the best part is that I can relate better to the industry now." He winks, "You see, I'm now no longer an outsider, I'm now the insider."

With his daughter Sonam entering the film industry opposite Ranbir Kapoor (Rishi-Neetu Kapoor's son) in Sanjay Leela Bhansali's Saanwariya, Kapoor admits to being excited and nervous at the same time.

"Sonam's Sanjay's discovery and protégé and I'm sure she'll do well. The current breed of actors are anyway far more aware than we ever were in our days," he laughs. "My children always say that I was a fool not to endorse products ever in my career. I was offered Rs 40 lakh to endorse products nearly two decades ago but I just didn't do it. I said to myself, ‘If Raj Kapoor and Dev Anand didn't, even I won't."

"My daughter jokes, ‘Papa, you didn't but I will,'" he laughs. "Seriously speaking, some of my friends in advertising say that this is precisely the reason of my longevity in the industry."

Clearly, it's a point that one can't help ignore. And just as I'm about to leave, my eyes wander to the oatmeal cookie on the plate. Kapoor's cookie, as I see it, hasn't crumbled. Not yet.