India, Sept. 28 -- I do not know who saved me that day in Assisi.

I had just come out of the Basilica of St Francis after spending several hours looking at the murals depicting his life, his coarse habit, the relics preserved beneath the Church and the many objects associated with a man who had renounced wealth to embrace poverty. As I stepped out, I slipped on the polished marble.

For a fleeting moment, I thought I was going to fall. But I did not.

I felt as though someone had caught me from behind and pushed me forward, enabling me to regain my balance. Footballer Diego Maradona used to call such moments the "hand of God." I do not know whether it was St Francis, St Clare, St. Teresa of Kolkata, God Himself or merely the body's inst...