Parvati Maa had made up her mind about Shiv ji. Her father had made up his about Vishnu ji, and the word was as good as given.
So her friend took her — harit, carried off; alika, by a friend — into the forest, where no one would look. There, under a bel tree, Parvati Maa took river sand in her hands and shaped a Shivling from it. She ate nothing and drank nothing, and sat in front of it the whole day, and did not sleep the whole night.
On the third day of the bright half of Bhadrapada, Shiv ji came and gave her his word. Her father, when he found her, had no argument left.
The day is named for the friend, not for the bride — for the one who was willing to carry her away.
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