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Watching the old TV I was just the other day and there's this knock at my door.

I peer through the window to see several gentlemen dressed in white. Oh no it's the tabs and three of us dive behind the sofa.

Hmmm..now normally opening the front door shouldn't be such a problem. A part of me thinks I have to open the door whilst another of me wants to watch the footy. With all the crap going on in the world I'm going to get told my trousers aren't turned up right and my left nail is yellow and someway that might send me to the lowest level of hell!

With a chandah (charity) collector you can pretend you have no dosh in the house or fob them off with a few well chosen fibs like...'But I just gave yesterday' or We give our zakat to the mosque already.' or Isn't that mosque built yet?' But with this lot there is no escape.

They are still outside...watching and waiting. The tension is unbearable. I feel like a child again hiding and seeking. Without any warning my mum opens the door and invites the brothers in and they walk into the front room where we are hiding.

Oh dear...this is indeed embarassing. A grown man and two of his mates cowering behind the sofa.

But thankfully they forgive and proceed to ask me the usual like when I last went to a mosque and so forth.

"I went just the other day..' I get the feeling the main dude knows I'm lying through my teeth - especially after his next question of where the mosque is?'...means I have to pause for several seconds before I answer.

Apparently one of the guys has travelled all the way from Norway and is in town for while.

I see...I don't really give a **** and after some oohing and aaahing the party leave.

The door knocker.

It's another lovely day and I am joined by a few of my fellow brothers as we make our regular visits.

Most people are very welcoming. We don't want to intrude on people's lives and try our very best to be as polite as possible.

Hey...I remember how I would feel when people would come to my door. Oh those were days...but things haven't changed that much. I'm still the same person inside although I might have grown a little beard.

I knock at this guys' house and there is the usual pause. I have already seen him in the window yet he seems to think we are a bunch of stupid idiots who can't see curtains move and a 48 inch TV being switched off.

The wait goes on and just to prove that I did see him I knock on the door again. Oh come on brother we are not here to make your life difficult or get in your way but a couple of minutes of your time isn't going to harm anyone is it?

Eventually we are welcomed into the house by the mother. She greets us and shows us into the front room.

Surprise surprise everyone is indeed home.

Rather than embarass the poor guy we pretend we didn't see him and his mates get up from behind the sofa.

As we sit down we simply ask him to come over the mosque on a more regular basis. It is a quite a simple and sincere request.

Some people are honest whilst other think we are the Spanish inquisition and are judging them.

Not the arguing types we decide that his guy obviously wants us to leave and soon enough we get the message and bid him good day. Maybe next time he will understand it is not so bad to just want to listen for a change.

All we wanted was a word - that wasn't too much to ask or was it?

9:30am Wednesday 9th January 2008

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