New Delhi, Oct. 13 -- Manoj Bajpayee is almost an hour late for our meeting. He calls me thrice with traffic updates. I answer in monosyllables. He knows I'm sulking. "I'm sorry, Apu, please don't be mad at me," he says, alighting from an unassuming car. How can I be mad at him? He's as real as they get! But I don't tell him that. I say, "You're buying drinks tonight, and I'm getting the most expensive cocktails." "Done," he says relieved. "I'm buying dinner too." This is a hip, young, members-only club, populated with millennials. In his tight tee and white sneakers, Manoj seems to fit in just fine. Heads turn as he walks by. "Loved you in The Family Man," says almost everybody, and Manoj skips gleefully to the elevator. "Most of these kids didn't see Satya, [Gangs Of] Wasseypur or even Aligarh," he tells me, "But they know me now thanks to The Family Man." Manoj is proud of himself. He has conquered a new medium and a new audience. This is fuel for the neanimorphic Mumbaikar who turned 50 last April. ...