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Mythic gender fluid they/them transition story : Teiresias and Sudyumma

  Teiresias and Ila’s Cosmic Body-Swap Sagas


The Greek Prophet Who Pissed Off Snakes (and Hera)
Born male to the nymph Chariclo, Teiresias had one fatal flaw: terrible timing. While wandering Mount Cyllene, he stumbled upon two snakes mid-coitus. His response? Whack them with a stick. Bad move.

Hera, ever the champion of marital bliss (and snake solidarity), cursed him on the spot: “Enjoy womanhood.” Just like that, Teiresias became female.

For seven years, he lived as a woman – marrying, bearing children, navigating a world suddenly reshaped. His parole came via poetic justice: spotting another pair of entwined snakes. This time, he left them alone. Curse lifted. Manhood restored.



The Hindu Prince Who Walked Into the Wrong Forest

Sudyumma (later Ila), son of Manu, wasn’t just unlucky – he was catastrophically oblivious. He wandered into Sharavana, Parvati’s sacred grove – a place where Shiva and his consort engaged in eternal coitus. The rules were clear: No males allowed. Parvati’s curse ensured it: trespassers would shed masculinity instantly.

One step past the threshold, Sudyumma became Ila. Trees, animals – even the air – feminized around her. Shiva demanded monopoly; the grove complied.

Ila adapted: she married Budha (Vedic moon god, not the Buddha), bore a son (Pururavas), and navigated duality. After desperate pleading, Parvati offered a compromise: one month male, one month female. True freedom only came after bribing Shiva himself with a horse sacrifice.

III. Why These Stories Still Slap
On the surface, these are divine punishments. Dig deeper? They’re about identity as a temporary state.

  • Teiresias didn’t "escape" womanhood – he lived it. His later clairvoyance? Arguably forged in the fire of dual existence.

  • Ila didn’t "revert" – she integrated. Her lineage (via Pururavas) founded lunar dynasties. The body was fluid; the self endured.

The Real Moral
Life detonates your plans. A goddess curses you. You eat questionable salmon. You wake up unrecognizable.

But – as Teiresias and Ila prove – you are not your anatomy. You are the choices made around it. The children raised. The sacrifices offered. The self rebuilt, month by month, or snake encounter by snake encounter.

So if today’s disaster feels permanent? Remember: even gods change their minds.
Especially if you bring a horse.


Heavenly Homewreckers : Alcmene/Zeus and Ahalya/Indra


Alcmene: The Queen, The Quest, and the God in Disguise

Alcmene, wife of Amphitryon, was renowned for her beauty — so much so that she caught the eye of none other than Zeus himself.

One day, Amphitryon left Thebes to lead a military campaign against the Taphians and Teleboans. Sensing an opportunity, Zeus disguised himself as Amphitryon and visited Alcmene, claiming victory and returning home. For three nights, Zeus extended the illusion (thanks to some divine manipulation of time), and Alcmene unknowingly spent those nights with a god.

When the real Amphitryon returned, he was confused — Alcmene swore he had already come back and spent the night with her. That divine deception led to the birth of one of mythology's most famous heroes: Heracles (Hercules), son of Zeus.



Ahalya: The Sage’s Wife and the Trickster God

Across the cultural cosmos, in Hindu mythology, we meet Ahalya — a divine beauty crafted by Brahma himself and married to the sage Gautama. Despite being married, Ahalya lived a celibate life in her husband’s hermitage.

One morning, Gautama left for his ritual bath in the Ganges. Spotting an opening, the ever-scheming god Indra disguised himself as Gautama and approached Ahalya. Whether Ahalya was fooled or secretly complicit is debated even today — but the result was the same: Indra succeeded in seducing her.

Upon his return, the real Gautama was furious. He cursed Indra with a bizarre and infamous punishment: his body was covered with a thousand vaginas (yes, really). Later, after some divine intervention from Brahma, they were transformed into a thousand eyes, giving Indra his iconic "eye-covered" form.

As for Ahalya, she was turned into a stone — a fate that could only be reversed when Rama, an avatar of Vishnu, would one day step on her during his forest exile. Which he eventually did.


Mythology's Moral Compass (Or Lack Thereof)

Both stories feature gods who use disguise to seduce women, and both women suffer consequences — though their levels of awareness and consent vary across versions and interpretations.

And what’s the moral takeaway? In the ancient mythological world, divine deception was common, and women bore the brunt of curses, scandal, or divine births. As the cheeky modern punchline might go:
"Chastity belts and divine disguises — because trust wasn't a virtue among gods."



Nepoticide : Invest in birthcontrol maybe?? : Cronos and Kamsa

 Mythology’s Messiest Uncles and Their Doom-by-Baby Fetish

Ever notice how ancient tyrants never learn? Take Kamsa (Hindu myth) and Cronos (Greek legend). These paranoid uncles had identical playbooks: swallow/kill babies, get owned by the one kid who slipped through. Prophecy? More like a self-fulfilling idiot trap. Let’s break it down.


Cronos: The OG Uncle-daddy and Baby-Gobbler 
(Greek Mythology)

  • The Setup: Daddy Cronos gets a prophecy: "Your own kid will yeet you off the throne."

  • His Solution: Marry sister Rhea → Swallow every kid she pops out. Smooth.

  • The Twist: Rhea hides baby #6, Zeus, swaps him for a rock (classic). Cronos swallows it.

  • The End: Zeus grows up, forces Cronos to puke up his siblings, and dethrones him. Karma’s a bitch

Kamsa: The Mathura Menace (Hindu Mythology)
    • The Setup: Kamsa overthrows his dad (Uranus vibes, anyone?), imprisons sister Devaki (Rhea 2.0) after a prophecy: "Your 8th nephew will END you."

    • His Solution: Kill every baby Devaki births. Six newborns, six tiny graves.

    • The Twist: Baby #8, Krishna (Zeus with a flute), gets swapped with a baby girl born to Yasodha. Kamsa spares her (lol, "prophecy said nephew!").

    • The End: Krishna chugs cow milk (upgrade from Zeus’ goat milk), grows up, and cave-chests Kamsa into the afterlife. Bye, uncle.

Moral of the story : 

If you’re a tyrant with a prophecy-obsessed ego?
Castrate your brother-in-law.
Or use condoms.
Or slip your sister birth control.
At minimum: DON’T LOCK HER IN A ROOM WITH HER HUSBAND.
Seriously, Kamsa. Use your brain.

Tales of Divine Peeping Gone Wrong : Teiresias/Athena and Trinity/Anushya

 

    Look and Suffer: Teiresias Blinded, Trinity Diapered. Another tale about gods behaving badly and women fixing quietly (as usual).

    Teiresias & Athena: When Peeping Toms Meet Bathing Goddesses

    The "Gentleman" (Hardly):
    Son of shepherd Everes and nymph Chariclo. Forget "gentleman’s gentleman"—this guy’s defining trait was seeing exactly what he wasn’t supposed to.

    The Crime Scene (Bath Time):
    Teiresias stumbled upon the virgin goddess Athena mid-bath. Did he avert his eyes? Blink? Please. He stared like it was open season on divine nudity. Enraged (and understandably so), Athena—possessor of the ultimate "Greek goddess body"—struck him blind on the spot. No trial, no jury. Just instant ocular obliteration.

    Mommy Saves the Day (Kinda):
    Enter nymph mommy Chariclo, weeping like her son hadn’t just committed the ultimate cosmic faux pas. She begged Athena to undo the curse. Athena’s response? "Too late, lady. My blindness curses are non-refundable."

    The (Underwhelming) Payout:
    As a consolation prize? Super-powered ears. Athena gifted him the ability to understand bird gossip and see the future (ironic, since he clearly hadn’t foreseen this). Prophecy: the ultimate disability accommodation.



    Anushya & the Trinity: Chastity as a Weapon of Mass Babyfication

    The Setup:
    Anushya, wife of sage Atri, was the ultimate pativrata (think: chastity so intense it could probably stop a tsunami). Enter Narada—Hinduism’s answer to Loki—who couldn’t resist stirring the pot. He bragged about Anushya’s virtue to the Trinity’s wives (Parvati, Lakshmi, Saraswati), sparking nuclear-level jealousy.

    The "Test" (Creep Edition):
    The jealous wives sicced their husbands—Shiva, Vishnu, Brahma—on Anushya. Disguised as Brahmin beggars (because exploiting holy hospitality rules is so godly), they showed up while her husband was out and demanded she serve them... naked. Classy.

    Anushya’s Power Move:
    Did she panic? Refuse? Nah. She weaponized her pativrata superpower. With a flick of her chastity, she transformed the almighty Trinity into helpless babies. Then, she served them milk... while nude. Rules technically followed? ✔️. Creepy demand utterly subverted? ✔️. Ultimate flex? ✔️.

    Wifey Cleanup Crew:
    Cue the Trinity’s wives rushing down to earth—proof that Indian gods truly graduate "from momma’s boobs straight to wife’s boobs." They begged Anushya to un-baby their husbands. She agreed, but only if the Trinity promised to be reborn as her sons later. Deal struck.


    Moral of the Stories:

    1. Diamond cuts diamond: One woman’s curse is another woman’s cleanup job. Divine patriarchy runs on female labor.

    2. Keep your rescue squad on speed-dial: Whether you’re a peeping tom, a creep demanding nude service, or just a general cosmic nuisance—always have your mommy (if single) or wifey (if married) prepped for damage control.
      (Athena, maybe next time install a "BATHING - NO PEEPING" sign? Anushya, queen of loopholes – we salute you.)

When Gods Order Take-Out(Your Kid) : Tantalus/Pelops and Sirutonda/Chiralan

 

Pelops: The Stew, the Shoulder, and the Divine Comeback

Meet Pelops—prince of Mount Sipylus and unfortunate son of Tantalus, a king whose parenting style would horrify even the most hands-off gods. Aiming to either impress or troll the Olympians (jury’s still out), Tantalus went full psycho-chef: he murdered Pelops, chopped him into stew, and served him up at a divine dinner party.

Yep. That happened.

The gods, usually up for some chaos, weren’t laughing. They immediately clocked the trick—except for Demeter. She was emotionally MIA, grieving her daughter Persephone’s abduction to the Underworld. Distracted and despondent, Demeter accidentally ate a piece of the dish. Specifically: Pelops' shoulder.

Horrified by Tantalus's cruelty, the gods did what gods do—resurrected Pelops. They gathered his remains, reassembled his body, and breathed life back into him. Small hitch: Demeter had already digested the shoulder. Oops.

No worries—Hephaestus (or one of the divine crafters, depending on the version) fashioned a shiny new ivory shoulder. Pelops was reborn: part boy, part luxury tableware.

But wait, there’s more.

As compensation for, you know, being turned into dinner, Pelops was invited to Olympus. There, he was gifted divine horses and chariot lessons—because what better way to make amends than horsepower and speed?

And so, Pelops rode into his next myth with a god-given glow-up, gleaming shoulder included. Tantalus, meanwhile, was thrown into Tartarus, eternally punished with hunger and thirst just out of reach—a fitting fate for a man who turned dinner into a murder weapon.

And Demeter? Grief-stricken or not, she still managed to take a bite. Relatable. We’ve all cried through cake. Hers just happened to be a human shoulder.

Dinner, Devotion, and Divine Plot Twists: The Tale of Sirutonda Nayanar

In Hindu tradition, hospitality isn’t just polite—it’s sacred. “Atithi Devo Bhava” means “The guest is God,” and turning away a hungry soul is considered a sin of cosmic proportions. So what happens when the guest at your door is literally God… asking for something horrifying?

Meet Sirutonda Nayanar—a Chola king, devout Shaivite, and full-time overachiever in the hospitality department. One day, his piety gets put to the ultimate test when a wandering devotee knocks at the palace door. Spoiler: it’s Lord Shiva in disguise, showing up as Bhairava—his fierce, ascetic form with a taste for chaos.

The guest makes a shocking request: he doesn’t want rice, sweets, or even a sacrificial goat. No, Bhairava asks for a meal made from the flesh of a flawless five-year-old boy.

Specifically… Sirutonda’s own son, Siralan.

Most people would slam the door at that point, but not Sirutonda. Bound by dharma and devotion, he and his wife do the unthinkable. They prepare their child for the meal, sparing only the head. Their hands tremble, their hearts break—but their faith doesn’t waver.

Just as they sit to eat, Bhairava makes one final, bizarre demand: “Call your son to join us.”

With grief thick in his throat, Sirutonda steps outside… and calls. And then—miracle! Siralan comes running, whole and smiling, as if nothing had happened.

The parents rush inside to share the good news—only to find the guest gone.

In his place? A divine mic-drop: Shiva, Parvati, Ganesha, and Murugan appear in all their glory. It was a test all along. And Sirutonda passed. For his unwavering devotion, the godly family grants him and his loved ones a VIP pass to Kailash—the divine mountain home of Shiva himself.


Final Takeaway?
Hospitality: 10/10. Parenting: deeply questionable.
Faith? Absolutely unshakable.

Dry Heels, Covered Groins, and Dead Heroes : Achilles/ Thetis and Duryothana/Gandhari

  Let's talk about ancient superheroes and the surprisingly consistent problem of overzealous moms. Seriously, across continents and cultures, these maternal powerhouses were out there trying to make their kids invincible, only to leave behind a glaring, fatal flaw. Talk about an epic backfire.

Exhibit A: Achilles and Thetis’s Dip-and-Slip

You know this one. Baby Achilles. His mom, Thetis (a literal sea nymph, no pressure), decides the best baby shower gift is invulnerability. How? By dunking the tiny terror in the River Styx. Great plan! Except... logistics. She held him by the heel. The heel. So, while the rest of little Achilles became god-tier tough, that one dry patch? Yeah, that stayed squishy. Fast forward to Troy, Paris (with a little divine guidance, because let's be honest, Paris couldn't hit the broad side of a barn otherwise) plugs an arrow right into that damp-proofed tendon. Game over. Thanks, Mom! Moral: Always get full coverage on your mystical spa treatments. And maybe wear armored sandals. 

Exhibit B: Duryodhana and Gandhari's "See No Evil, Strengthen No Groin" Debacle

Now, buckle up for the Indian version of this mess, because it’s even more... awkward. Meet Duryodhana, the OG Kaurava bad boy in the Mahabharata. His mom, Gandhari? The ultimate "ride-or-die" wife. Her husband, Dhritarashtra, was blind. So Gandhari, in a display of devotion that screams "boundary issues," blindfolded herself for life. Yep. Decades of accumulating divine power through sheer, stubborn spousal solidarity. Powerful stuff! Mostly useless for seeing where the furniture is, but powerful.

The night before Duryodhana's climactic duel with Bhima (think Hector vs. Achilles, but with way more mace action and family drama), Gandhari decides to cash in her divine chips. She tells her grown son: "Honey, go take a holy bath... and then come stand buck naked in front of me." Record scratch. Uh... what?

Her plan? Remove the blindfold, unleash her accumulated divine vision gaze, and turn Duryodhana's entire body into human steel. Invulnerable! Great! Except...

Enter Krishna. The ultimate cosmic trickster and Vishnu incarnate. He sees Duryodhana strutting back from his bath, au naturel, and basically pulls the world's oldest prank. He pops up, cracks some jokes about Duryodhana's birthday suit, and utterly mortifies the guy. Flustered, Duryodhana grabs the nearest modesty shield: a banana leaf. He covers his groin and thighs before presenting himself to Mom.

Gandhari whips off the blindfold. Divine power laser-beams out! Every inch of skin she sees turns harder than vibranium. But that strategically placed banana leaf? Yeah, that created a critical foliage-shaped weak spot. Like Achilles' heel, but significantly more embarrassing.

Next day, Bhima is whaling on Duryodhana with his mace. Nothing. Dude's ringing like a gong. Bhima's sweating bullets. Krishna, standing nearby, gives Bhima the look and subtly points... downwards. Bhima gets the message. One mighty swing... aimed low. Right at the banana-leaf zone.

Thud. Duryodhana falls. Dead. Killed because his divine-strength mommy magic missed the family jewels, thanks to divine interference and a well-placed leaf.

Moral of the story : 

  1. Listen to Your Mother: Especially when she tells you to take a bath before your big fight. Hygiene matters, people.

  2. But Maybe Keep Your Pants On: Seriously. The "stand naked before mom" strategy has a 100% historical failure rate with catastrophic consequences. Flashing mommy? Not the power move you think it is.

  3. Divine Help is Overrated: Gods are basically chaotic interns. Sometimes they help, sometimes they trick you into covering your only weak spot with a salad ingredient.

  4. The Real Villain is Embarrassment: If Duryodhana hadn't been flustered by Krishna's teasing, he might have just owned his nudity, gotten fully fortified, and lived to be a terrible king another day. Pride cometh before the fall... onto a mace.

  5. So there you have it. From the shores of the Styx to the banks of the Ganga, the message is clear: Moms will move heaven, earth, and rivers to protect you, but sometimes, their love leaves you vulnerable in the stupidest possible way. Usually involving poor grip technique or questionable requests involving nudity and foliage.

     Listen to Mom. But maybe draw the line at impromptu naked strength inspections.


Sleeping beauty and the beast : Endymion/Selene and Kumbakarna/Saraswati

  Let's talk about two dudes cursed with epic naps and the goddesses who messed them up. Greek myth meets Hindu epic in the weirdest sleep clinic ever.

Endymion (Greek Mythology)

  • Who: Son of Zeus. Apparently ridiculously handsome.

  • The Setup: Chilling, sleeping in a cave on Mount Latmus. Enter Selene, the Moon Goddess herself. She sees him snoozing, thinks, "Dayum," and falls hard.

  • The "Gift" (and Curse): Selene ain't playing the long game. She goes straight to Zeus (daddy issues much?) and asks for Endymion to get eternal youth, eternal sleep, and immortality. Why? So she could visit him every night while he's out cold. And yeah, "visit" means exactly what you think. She straight up violated the sleeping beauty. Every. Single. Night.

  • The Outcome: They had FIFTY kids. (Fifty stars? Maybe. Fifty kids? Definitely a lot of child support Zeus ain't paying). Think about it: Fairytales have princes kissing sleeping beauties awake to then make love. Here? The goddess puts the prince to sleep so she can have her way with himNappily ever after? Guess women need the power of "NO" and maybe some impulse control too. 



Kumbakarna (Hindu Mythology - Ramayana)

  • Who: Giant brother of the demon king Ravana. Huge appetite, even bigger heart – so pious and brave it scared Indra (King of the Gods).

  • The Setup: Kumbakarna does hardcore penance – skipping food, sleep, everything – to earn a boon from Lord Brahma. He succeeds! Brahma appears: "Ask, my son!"

  • The Divine Screwjob: Scared Indra panics. He begs Brahma's wife, Saraswati (Goddess of Knowledge, Speech... and apparently shady deals), to mess with Kumbakarna's speech as he asks.

  • The Curse (Disguised as Gift):

    • Kumbakarna meant to ask for "Indrasana" (Indra's throne). Saraswati made his tongue say "Nidrasana" (a bed for sleep).

    • He meant to ask for "Nirdevatvam" (annihilation of the Gods). Saraswati twisted it to "Nidravatvam" (sleep).

  • The Outcome: Brahma grants the cursed request: Kumbakarna would sleep for six months straight, only waking for the other six. Worse? If woken during his hibernation... he dies. Guess what happens in the Ramayana war? His brother forces him awake. Kumbakarna fights... and dies. Moral? In Indian culture, waking a sleeping soul is a major sin. Bigger than some other stuff? Maybe.

The Moral Minefield: Who Done Worse?

So... which divine intervention is the bigger crime?

  1. Option A (Selene): Putting a man into eternal sleep specifically so you can violate him nightly, resulting in 50 kids he never asked for? (Seriously, 50 kids? Talk about the ultimate consequence).

  2. Option B (Saraswati): A dude skips food, sleep, all pleasures for years doing hardcore penance. He earns his divine reward. Then, purely because another god (Indra) is jealous and scared, you (Saraswati) sabotage his speech, twisting his righteous wish into a crippling curse of endless sleep and eventual death? You wreck his entire destiny right at the finish line.

Yeah. Chew on that. Both involve epic sleep, divine power plays, and a spectacular lack of consent or fairness. One's a creepy nightly violation, the other is cosmic-level cheating. Which grinds your gears more? The violation of the body, or the theft of a hard-earned destiny? Mythology doesn't do easy answers... just seriously messed-up bedtime stories.

Ephemeral Avengers : Vali and Garuda

  

Norse Vengeance: Frigga’s 24-Hour Hitman

Frigga’s nightmares foretold Baldr’s death. She forced every force in creation—swords, storms, stones—to swear oaths never to harm him. Only mistletoe escaped her list: too fragile, too innocent.

The gods celebrated Baldr’s invincibility by hurling weapons at him. Axes bounced. Spears shattered. Then Loki slid a mistletoe dart into blind Höðr’s hand. One throw later, Baldr lay dead.

Frigga’s grief curdled into fury. She summoned Vali—Odin’s son by the giantess Rindr—demanding instant vengeance. Vali was born at dawn, grew to adulthood by noon, and slew Höðr by dusk. A life compressed into a day for a single purpose: retribution.

The Takeaway: When gods outsource vengeance, they expedite shipping.


Hindu Vengeance: Vinata’s Cosmic Debt Collector

Vinata lost a celestial bet to her sister Kadru over a horse’s tail color. The stakes? Slavery. Her punishment stemmed from impatience: she cracked her first egg early, birthing Aruna—a half-formed son who cursed her with servitude. "You’ll be a slave until your other son frees you."

The second egg hatched Garuda, erupting into the world fully formed and furious. Shape-shifter. Serpent-devourer. Living weapon. To break Vinata’s chains, he stole the elixir of immortality from heaven, traded it to Kadru’s serpent-sons, then made snakes his permanent prey. Their bargain meant nothing; he still hunts them like fast food.

The Takeaway: Some sons arrive pre-vengeance enabled. Snakes are always on the menu.


The Unholy Parallels

Mothers Unleashed:

  • Frigga weaponized prophecy’s grief.

  • Vinata weaponized her own curse.
    Both turned sons into guided missiles.

Flawed Beginnings:

  • Frigga ignored the harmless (mistletoe).

  • Vinata rushed the incomplete (Aruna’s egg).
    Oversights became fatal.

Instant-Grow Avengers:

  • Vali aged a lifetime in hours to execute kin.

  • Garuda hatched ready to raze snake kingdoms.
    Vengeance brooks no childhood.

Collateral Damage:

  • Höðr died for Loki’s trick.

  • All serpents inherited Garuda’s wrath.
    Innocence is myth’s first casualty.


Final Wisdom:

The cosmos keeps a ledger.
Mothers write the entries.
Sons are the collection agency.


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